Still Obsessed

If I broach the subject again, the conversation we're having will grind to a halt and Jax will spend the next several hours in his home office with the door closed.

"I'm really tired." I place the linen napkin next to my untouched plate of food. "I think I'm just going to go to bed, Jax."

"Don't." He bites the word out. "Don’t run away from this."

"If I don't, you will." I shoot back. "I'll bring up Intersect Investments and you'll slam your fist on the table and run into your office."

"You bring it up at the worst times."

"It hasn't been the right time in six months." I push myself up from the chair. "The deal to buy your shares fell through and you haven't had another offer. You still own half that company and I know part of you wants to go back to it. There. I'm done."

"It's not that easy." His tone is harsh and clipped. "He's not going to pay the way I want him to."

"You can't control everything, Jax." I exhale in a rush trying to temper my rising emotions. "Mark cut a plea deal. That's done. You can't change it."

His shoulders tense as he rises from the chair. "I hate that you can't see how wrong that is."

"I hate that you can't get past this." I straighten and turn to leave the kitchen. "You have to accept that Mark isn't going to prison. You have to accept that he was fined and that he's on probation. That's life."

I close my eyes at the sound of his fist connecting with the table. The unmistakable ring of the silverware hitting the floor and a glass shattering cuts through the dead silence between us. I stand still as Jax breezes past me, the only other sound in the apartment, his office door as it slams shut.

Chapter 3

"Did your husband have a temper?" I pour a small amount of cream into the china teacup before handing it to Mrs. Adams.

"He did, dear." She brings the cup to her mouth with trembling hands before she takes a small sip.

"Jax has this sore spot when it comes to Mark." I take a small drink from my own cup of tea and recoil at the taste. It's too bitter. I should have added more sugar.

"Do you think it's because you two almost married?" I wince at her words. I've tried desperately hard to block out all the lingering memories I've had of my long forgotten engagement to Mark Carleton.

"I think he's gotten over that." I reach to offer her one of the sugar cookies I found in the cupboard in her kitchen. "This has more to do with his father's company."

"Your friend is a proud man." She delicately takes a small bite of the cookie. "He's a good judge of character, Ivy. Mark is a loser."

I laugh, shocked by her complete honesty. "He is a loser."

"You need to tell your fellow that you believe in him." She pats my hand lightly. "If he thinks you're ever taking Mark's side it's going to sting more than if you hit him over the head with a frying pan."

It's an interesting analogy and as much as I want to know why she picked that particular implement of havoc, I skip over it. "Mark's been trying to contact me. I haven't told Jax."

"What do you mean?" She motions for me to take the teacup from her. "How so? Has he been calling?"

"Calling, texting, emailing." I rub the back of my neck. "I haven't responded to anything. I've been deleting all the voicemails and messages without listening to them or reading anything."

"It may be important, dear. I remember you telling me his mother was ill." Her voice is soft and comforting. "Tell your fellow first and then find out what Mark wants."

I nod before I hand her back the cup of tea. She makes it sound so easy. Little does she realize that Mark's name is a literal four-letter word to Jax.

***

"Moore was here looking for you." Jax's gaze fixes on the door behind me. "I didn't realize he knows where we live."

"I mentioned it when I was having lunch with him a couple of weeks ago." I try to play it down. Jax's jealousy over my friendship with my attorney is just another sticking spot between us. If I'm going to bring up Mark's insistent need to talk to me in the next few days, I'm going to have to first put out the fire that is my connection to Nathan Moore.

His eyes shift to my face and I turn away, hanging my sweater up before placing my purse on the chair next the door. "It was nothing."

"You have lunch with the man you crushed all over when you were a teenager, and it's nothing?" He cocks a brow and I swear I see a quick grin flash across his handsome face. He looks relaxed, standing next to the couch, pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips and a stark white t-shirt covering his chest.