Page 23 of My Heart Still Beats
I put the phone back to my ear. “Hey, it’s Tessa. I’m really sorry. I thought I was calling Skye.”
“That’s not a problem. Always glad to talk to you.”
“Well, since I’ve got you on the phone, I have some more time to deal with this bachelorette party fiasco.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah. I just got laid off from my job.”
He pauses a moment. Then, “I’m sorry to hear that. You doing okay?”
Such a loaded question. I hardly know this man, and he doesn’t give a damn if I’m doing okay. How could he?
“As a matter of fact, no, I’m not doing okay. You know my past. I’m having a fucking hard time, Ben. And I’ve got this bachelorette party and wedding looming over me. The last thing I need is for strangers to ask me if I’m okay.”
Silence on the other end of the line.
This is not who I am. I don’t go around looking for pity by spouting out my problems or snapping at people for expressing sympathy. But I can’t bring myself to apologize.
For a moment, he says nothing, and just as I’m about to open my mouth to tell him I’m ending the call—
“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that. Tell you what. I don’t have a lot on my calendar today. Why don’t I come get you, we’ll go have some lunch, and I’ll let you know what’s going on with the parties? I have to get the final details to the resort by tomorrow. I’d say we could handle it via a phone call, but I want to show you some photos.”
The parties are this weekend. Invitations have already gone out. Skye handled them for the bachelorette party because she knew who she wanted to invite. Braden is footing the bill for everything. Still, it will be small. Skye, Betsy, me, a woman named Kathy Harmon who used to date Ben’s father and remained friends with Skye, and her other bridesmaid, Daniela Cruise.
So far as I know, they’ve all RSVPed yes.
Why wouldn’t they? An all-expense-paid trip to Jamaica? No-brainer. Old Tessa would be loving this. She’d be listening to reggae and shopping for bikinis.
I sigh into the phone. “Yeah, sure. Let’s have lunch.” Why not? He seems like a nice guy, and I’m unemployed. I may as well take the free meal.
“I’ll be by around noon to pick you up,” Ben says. “Just watch for Sherlock.”
“Fine.”
This time, my skin doesn’t prickle at the thought of seeing Ben. I have no reason to fear him. Sherlock drove me home Friday night and nothing happened. Ben saw me to my door, even helped me take Rita out, and nothing happened.
Funny. A year ago, if I’d lost my job, I’d be devastated.
Today I don’t even feel it.
…
I sit across from Ben in a booth at a local diner.
I try not to look at him, but my gaze keeps getting drawn to his face. To his warm brown eyes.
The whole world knows his reputation as a ladies’ man, but his eyes… They seem so kind and comforting. As if you could tumble into them and land safely.
Part of me wants to lose myself in them.
And that feeling? It scares me.
It scares me how attractive I find him.
And it scares me that I’m notmorescared.
“The Reuben is great here,” Ben says, perusing his menu.
