Heat
“Spit it out, Jake,” I tell him.
“Look, if… if it seemed like we were a couple—like a real couple—and we let people think whatever they want, you have to admit it wouldn’t be bad for Red Hall. For that matter I might have a shot at—”
“Stop,” I tell him. Whatever heat was in me is gone now. Ice courses through my veins and now I think I really may be sick. “Just stop.”
“Janie, I didn’t—”
“I cannot believe this.” Ice melts, starts to boil. I think I am going to be sick. “This whole… Jesus Christ, you’re a fucking impressively dedicated bastard, you know that? I cannot believe I fell for your bullshit…” The world spins around me. It’s hard to breathe.
“Listen to me, Janie,” Jake says, and reaches for me.
But I’m up and out of his reach before he can lay some more of his alligator charms on me, getting dressed. The guilt on his face is plain, but it’s not enough. “All this time, and I actually thought you just wanted… fuck, I don’t even know what I thought.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, standing.
“Put some clothes on,” I snap.
“Sure, yeah,” he says. “I’ll... ah… I’ll drive you back.”
I laugh, already headed for the door. “No, no, no. You can hang out here and fuck yourself. I’ll get a cab.”
He’s coming at me like he wants to prevent me from leaving, but stops when I round on him. “Jake, I swear to God if you take another step toward me you’ll regret it. We. Are. Done. Fuck you, fuck your father, don’t ever fucking talk to me again.”
I slam the door on my way out. Luckily I’m still too furious to cry. I have no fucking clue how to get home. Thank God for Uber. By the time I make it to the road to wait, I’m not exactly calm so much as numb.
Hell, I knew he was a scorpion. Am I that surprised I got stung?
Chapter 23
Jake
For a full minute after Janie leaves, I’m able to keep it more or less together. I try to go numb—God knows I’ve got enough practice at it. But the numbness doesn’t come quick enough and before I know it I’m imagining my father’s face when I tell him I blew it, and I can hear him already coming up with some other plan.
My hand aches, and it’s not until that moment that I realize I put it through the wall. The thick plaster and drywall topples out of the hole when I pull my hand out and falls to the floor, shattering.
I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have lowered myself to take part in Reginald’s delusional “grand plan,” and I shouldn’t have kept myself closed off from Janie like I did. All the guilt and anger just serves to illuminate what I already realized.
What I had with Janie wasn’t an act. I didn’t need to put on a mask to make her fall for me—I just fell for her and that was all I needed to do.
Flexing my hand, I sink down onto a stool at the bar, staring at my scraped knuckles. My whole life is told in that one image. Daddy says jump, and I ask how high, and deal with the injuries afterward. And what does he have to offer me? Money?
I don’t need it. I don’t need him, I don’t need the company. It’s not worth giving up Janie just to get a slice of the Ferry fortune—or even the whole goddamn pie.
Janie’s right; what she said before. Standing on her own two feet—she’s more alive than any woman I’ve ever known, and for a moment I managed to convince myself that I could have some kind of a future with her.
I could have.
Despite the fact that I know she doesn’t want to hear from me, and I want to give her that, I can’t help trying to make things right. I send text after text, and call her. No responses, and my calls go straight to voice mail.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her.
“Let me explain.”
“I need to make this right.”
“Forget about the PR shit. I want to be with you.”
I stop short of telling her how I really feel—or, how I think I feel, anyway. How am I even supposed to know?