She exhales loudly. "So you're not cutting?"
"Swear," I say. "Do you want me to show you? I will. I'm not hurting myself, Jamie. I'd tell you. You and Ollie have my back. I know that."
"I thought you did. But then the other day..." She trails off with a shrug.
"I fucked up. I did." I take her hand. "But I promise I'm okay."
"Then what's with you?" Jamie stands up. "Dammit, sorry. Okay, I get it. Not my business if you're not cutting. Fine. I'm curious as hell, but if you want to keep a secret from your very best friend in the whole universe, then you go ahead and do that."
"Stark," I say, and watch her completely freeze.
"Say again?"
"Damien Stark. He called and invited me to the movies."
"And you went? After I warned you about his rep with women?"
I lift a shoulder. "Yeah, well, I decided what the hell."
"Did you fuck him? Oh, god, Nik, Ollie can never know. He'd die."
"I didn't fuck him," I say, but since this is Jamie and she really is my best friend, I bite my lower lip and then admit, "but I really wanted to."
"You do not want to be one pearl on a string of women."
"I don't," I agree. "And I don't think I would have been. He treated me, I don't know, like a diamond."
"That's because he's a manwhore who knows how to handle himself. Wait. You said would have been. So does that mean you're done? Finished?"
I nod.
"Well, good for you. Because of Ollie, right?"
I start to say yes, because that's what she wants to hear. But now that I've started talking, I want to truly talk. I want someone to understand, even just a little, what I left on the table when I walked away.
"No. Not because of Ollie. Because of these." I slide my hands along my inner thighs and then my hips. "He has women like Carmela falling at his feet. He wants me because I'm pretty. And, I don't know, because we can talk and seem to have this connection. But he doesn't know all my baggage. And he doesn't know what I look like under my clothes. And the woman he thinks he wants doesn't exist."
"And you didn't tell him?" She's back on the couch.
"How could I?" I bend over and put my forehead in my hands as if that can hold back the pain of my loss. "He said he'd always protect me," I tell her softly. "And I think he really meant it."
Jamie puts her arm around my shoulder. "Nik, honey, you just met him."
I shake my head. "No, it's not like that. I know him, James. I don't know how, but somehow I do. And he knows me, too. But not all of me. Not my secrets."
"Then you made the right decision," she says, though for the first time, I hear hesitancy in her voice. "Now you just need some time."
She rocks me a little, and even though I know that it's weird, and that we didn't know each other for very long, and that Ollie is such a good choice for me, and that pretty soon I'll forget all about Damien Stark, I let myself cry. And I let Jamie rock me. And little by little, I start to feel better.
I'm about cried out when my phone rings. I glance at the coffee table, but I don't recognize the number.
"Might be a fabulous new client," I say. "Get enough of those over the next week, and maybe I can still get my office." I've given up on the Stark contract. I figure if you snub the boss, you pretty much toss away the possibility of lucrative licensing agreements.
Which goes a long way to explaining why I'm so surprised when I answer the phone and hear Damien's voice. "Ms. Fairchild."
"I--Damien. Hi."
Beside me, Jamie sits up straight. Then she leans toward me in a rather transparent attempt to overhear. At the moment, I'm too flabbergasted to care.
"I wanted to let you know that I'm leaving tomorrow night for New York."
"Oh. Um." I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say to that. "Well, happy New Year."
"I'm taking one of my private jets from the Santa Monica airport. Leaving at eight tomorrow night. I'll be spending New Year's Day in Manhattan then flying back. It's a whirlwind trip, but I thought--or, rather, I was hoping--you might join me."
Beside me, Jamie's eyes are wide.
I clutch the phone tight, because I'm tempted. I'm so, so tempted. But I know what will happen. And on a plane, when he learns my secrets, there's nowhere for me to go.
Slowly, I close my eyes. "I can't," I say. "The guy I'm dating--he's coming back tomorrow." I think about what Jamie told me. About Ollie asking me to move in.
And then I think that I need to go ahead and make that leap. "And, well, I'm going to move in with him."
Silence.
Just dead silence.
Then I hear him clear his throat.
"Well, that's a big step," he says. "I wish you all the best."
"Thanks." My voice is so low and thin I doubt he can hear it.
"Right. Well, I had hoped. So I was planning to tell you this on the plane, but I suppose now will do. I'm sending over some revisions to your licensing agreement. Take a look. If you need to negotiate further, give Preston a call. I think it's best if he handles the details from here on out."
"You're licensing my app? For Stark International?"
"I am. You'll get the up-front payment as soon as the contract is signed."
"Damien..."
I think about the size of that check, not to mention the quarterly fees that the licensing by a company that size will bring in.
Then I think about my office--my office--and how I'm going to decorate it.
"Damien," I say again. "Thank you."
"It's business, Ms. Fairchild," he says. "You have a product I need. And in business, at least, I can buy what I want." And then, without a goodbye, the line goes dead.
"Wow," Jamie says. She takes my hand and squeezes. "And I'm proud of you." But she seems a little bit unsure when she says it.
As for me, I'm reeling. Both from the news about the license and from the indisputable fact that I have truly lost Damien Stark, a man I barely even knew, but whose loss I feel profoundly.
I'm still reeling at six-fifteen the next night when Ollie bursts through the door, then swings me around, making me laugh. "My parents say hi, and I have all sorts of gossip about people from the neighborhood," he announces. "But first I have something to ask you." He draws in a breath. "Nik, I think we ought to move in together."
"I've been thinking about that," I say honestly. "Don't be mad, but Jamie kind of told me."
"I'm not mad." He laughs. "I know you two. Hell, I should have expected she'd tell you," he adds, reminding me once again of just how well he knows me. "So? You've thought about it?"
"I have," I say, and I'm fully intending to tell him that I will move in with him. But in the space of time between the thought and speech, I see my life with him play out in my head. Long years that are fine, but not spectacular. Loving, but not passionate.
In other words, it's an okay life, but it's just a little off. And it's not the life that I want.
"I'm sorry, Ollie," I say as I glance at the clock. "I can't. And I can't stay to explain, either. I'm so sorry, but I have to go. Hell, I have to fly."
Chapter 9
"Are you crazy?" Jamie asks, racing after me as I sprint toward my car.
"I made a horrible mistake, James. If I'm lucky and there's no traffic--a minor miracle on New Year's Eve--maybe I'll get to the airport in time."
"But--"
I pause long enough to hold her by the shoulders. "You're the one who said it. I'm too smart not to know when I've got a good thing. But don't you see? It's Damien who's my good thing."
"You barely know him."
"I know," I agree as I fumble for my keys. "It's crazy."
"What about Ollie?"
I sigh. "That's a hard one, but I can't stay with him because I'm afraid of hurting him. He deserves real love, not best friend love. He deserves passion. And, honestly, so do I."
"And the scars?" she asks as I'm unlocking the car.
That gives me pause, but only for a lit
tle bit. "It's going to be okay," I say, meeting her eyes. "He's not going to care. He's going to have my back, just like you and Ollie do."
"That's one hell of a leap of faith. How on earth do you know that?"
"I just do," I say, and there's not a doubt in my mind that I'm right.
Finally Jamie is all out of questions. "Wait!" she cries right before I slide into the driver's seat. "I love you. If you're really sure..."
"More sure than I've been of anything in a very long time."