Tabitha got out of the bath an hour later, wrinkled like a prune, refreshed and secure enough in her feelings for Eric to look forward to tonight with more hope than the dread she had felt earlier. She dried off, made herself something light to eat, settled in front of the television and watched just enough of some mindless, I-slept-with-my-husband’s-brother-and-may-be-pregnant-with-his-baby themed talk show to start doubting her feelings all over again. Tabitha shut off the television, set her alarm clock for eight, and decided to take a nap.
As soon as the clock went off a couple of hours later, she jumped up, instantly awake, and started to get ready.
Since he’d liked the black dress she’d worn on his birthday so much, Tabitha decided to wear a similar one, but this dress was red and perfectly went with the necklace Eric had given her. She put on a pair of matching pumps to complete her outfit.
She carefully made up her face, only putting on a light touch of blusher and lipstick, then brushing and leaving her long hair down beyond her shoulders and framing her face in glistening waves.
She was ready by eight-forty-five and not yet concerned since she knew Eric didn’t do early, though he’d gotten better about watching the clock since she’d known him.
By nine-fifteen with no sign of him, she did get concerned. By nine-thirty, she was annoyed. By nine-forty-five she called his loft, got no answer and left a curt message. Worried, she called his cell, was directed straight to voicemail, and left another message. By ten-thirty she was concerned, annoyed, angry, pissed, frightened, and had such a severe flashback to her mother abandoning her at Port Authority, no-one could have told her that she wasn’t that unloved and unwanted eight-year-old girl again.
216
Beneath the Surface
What was wrong with her that no one wanted to stick around? What was wrong that people kept walking out of her life right when she got used to having them around?
God, how could she let him make her feel this way? So helpless, vulnerable and like yesterday’s trash?
By eleven, Tabitha left the house on her way to Eric’s loft.
* * * *
He, the rest of his siblings and his mother all lingered in the waiting room on the Coronary Care Unit of Long Island Medical Center hoping to hear good news about Dad.
EJ had been in the middle of putting the last touches to his outfit before going to pick up Tabitha when his mother had called him from the hospital to say that Dad had had a heart attack and she was at the emergency room with Angela and Evelyn.
EJ’d immediately stopped what he was doing, got all the pertinent information he needed and ran out to his Jeep to rush to the hospital.
He arrived an hour after Viviana’s call, cell forgotten at home and without a way to call Tabitha to let her know what was going on until he hunted up a phone.
By the time he reached his mother and sisters in the emergency room however, all thoughts of calling Tabitha were replaced with thoughts of whether or not his father would survive the night after having—what the doctors had told Viviana looked like—a moderate heart attack.
Viviana, however, had her doubts, relaying to Angela and Evelyn their father’s frightening chest pains, pallor and out of breath state when the ambulance had rushed him to the emergency room.
That had been hours ago and since EJ’s arrival, Emilia, Donna and Nick had joined the family for a waiting room vigil. By ten-thirty, EJ remembered to borrow Nick’s cell, was on his way outside to make his call to Tabitha when a doctor came out with news of how their father was doing. He paused to listen, promised he’d make his call as soon as he heard what he needed to from the doctor.
The diagnosis was better than the family had hoped, confirming that Joe had had a moderate heart attack, been stabilized and was resting comfortably.
The doctor told them what had probably caused the attack, what treatment he and his team were planning on utilizing to correct the problem, and what the family and Dad could expect in the next few days as he recovered and before he was sent home.
“He should be able to return to work or engage in strenuous activity in about four weeks or so.”
EJ was so preoccupied with the doctor’s youthful appearance he almost interrupted him a few times throughout his spiel to ask the man how old he was and where were his credentials. He wisely remained silent and absorbed the man and his team’s prognosis with the rest of his family, comforted by the doctor’s unflinching confidence, insight and tact.
217
Gracie C. McKeever
After the doctor had outlined the steps that Joe would need to follow to take better care of himself and prevent another heart attack, the family was allowed to visit with Dad in stages. Two individuals at a time, until just Viviana sat with her husband for several minutes before coming back out to the waiting room with her children.
It took some doing, but Angela and her siblings convinced their mother that she needed to go home and get some rest so that she would be bright and strong tomorrow when she came back before Dad went in for his bypass.
Angela volunteered to take Viviana home, a no-brainer since she wouldn’t have allowed anyone else to do so, and considered it the most logical course of action as she lived the closest and had easier access to her parents’ house.
The rest of her siblings left for their homes under Momma Angela’s orders, all promising to meet at the medical center tomorrow to await the outcome of their father’s surgery.
Nick hung back for a minute while EJ finally made his call to Tabitha and got voicemail.
EJ frowned, barely felt his brother nudge him in the shoulder as he left a hasty message.
“She probably couldn’t wait for you and went partying without you, bro.”
“That’s not funny, Nick.” The last thing he needed on top of everything else that had gone on tonight was the idea of Tabitha dancing the New Year’s Eve away in some other guy’s arms.
She wouldn’t, would she?
Nick plucked his cell out of EJ’s hand and headed for his car. “Just call her again when you get home. Maybe she stepped out for a minute or is taking a hot bath to relax and get you standing her up off her mind.”
“Thanks for your constant support.”
“Don’t mention it.”
He had to take everything Mr. Play The Field Smart Aleck said with a grain of salt. It wasn’t
his
woman not answering the phone after all. Nick did drive-bys, and didn’t let women come to his apartment, always rendezvoused at his sexual target’s house, didn’t allow jealousy and possessiveness in his world.
How could a cool playboy like this sympathize with EJ’s quandary?
By the time EJ made it back home it was already eleven-thirty, and he was still coming down off an unpleasant adrenaline rush that he had been on since his mother had called him earlier in the evening.
He didn’t remember Tabitha until he was parking in front of his building and by then he was anxious to speak to her, and knew she’d be totally pissed when she heard from him.
EJ came up short at the entrance of his building when he saw who was standing there waiting for him.
218
Beneath the Surface
“Hello EJ.”
“This is a very unpleasant taste of déjà vu, Jade, and I’m not in the mood for drama now.”
“No drama this time.”
He noticed her shy stance, her uncertain tone as she approached holding a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of champagne.
“I acted like a total bitch the last time I was here and just wanted to come by and apologize, wish you and Tabitha a Happy New Year on the off-chance you were here.”
She peered at his Jeep then frowned at him. “Where is Tabitha?”
“She’s not here right now. I’m on my way upstairs to call her.” He must have looked more troubled than he sounded, more troubled than he wanted to come across, because Jade was immediately at his side, putting her free hand on his closest arm.
“Are you okay?”
“My father had a heart attack tonight,” he blurted. One simple question, and his facade cracked, emotions on the verge of pouring out of him at Jade’s concerned glance.
He’d been holding up his mother and sisters at the hospital most of the evening, calming them and assuring them in the absence of his father and older brother. All the while beyond assurance and peace himself thinking about the pillar of a man he knew as his father flat on his back and at death’s door.
“EJ, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
At that moment she ceased to be his and Tabitha’s nemesis, and became the woman he had gotten to know at Smith and Wollensky, the playful, teasing and sensuous woman with whom he had become friends before lovers.
“I’ll be fine. I just need to settle in and grasp everything that’s happened before I go back to the hospital tomorrow.”
“Do you want me to keep you company until Tabitha gets here?”
He swallowed, unable to speak, focused more on keeping the tears from welling, silently nodded as Jade slid an arm around his waist and walked with him the rest of the way to his building.
“We’ll go upstairs and you can tell me everything over a glass of hot tea.”
He stared at her profile and she must have felt his look as she returned it and smiled.
EJ peered in her eyes and saw no malice or calculation, just sympathy and sincerity.
God, he wanted to believe that that’s all there was, hoped that he wasn’t misreading her again, too emotionally drained and weak to delve any deeper than the surface.
“Sure,” he finally murmured, and let Jade lead the way up to his loft as if he was a lost little boy; at that moment, he felt like one.
219
Gracie C. McKeever
EJ unlocked the door with his key, and once inside, Jade took over, ordering him to change into something comfortable while she made a pot of tea in the kitchen, at home in his house and giving orders as if she had been born to it.
Funny how, in all the years they had known each other, he had never seen this domestic, maternal side of Jade. He wasn’t sure if he could get used to it, but welcomed the warmth of her company and concern for now.
By the time EJ emerged from the shower, washing off the antiseptic and medication-laden smell of the hospital from his skin, clad in a pair of well-worn jeans and a T-shirt, Jade had finished making the tea and was settled into a corner of his sofa sipping from a cup.
He felt underdressed in his own house, getting the full impact of the fancy evening wear Jade was wearing once she’d removed her overcoat and waved a hand at her outfit. “You were on your way to a New Year’s Eve party or coming from one?”
“I was on my way to see you.” She rose from the sofa and sauntered over to him as he stood on the threshold of the living room, paused for a moment to peer up at him before throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. “I’m really sorry to hear about your father, EJ,” she whispered.
He returned her hug, pat her shoulders, already feeling better since arriving home and eager to be reunited with Tabitha and explain to her all that had happened to him tonight. He realized Jade would have to leave before any of that occurred and was prepared to eat major crow once he reached Tabitha. “I appreciate your being here for me, Jade.” He caught her by the shoulders and pulled away slightly to look at her. “But I’m going to be all right now.”
“I know you are, EJ, but I’d still like to keep you company for a little while longer, just to make sure.”
“Jade…”
She stood on her tiptoes and reached for his lips with hers before he could stop her. Her mouth closed over his, tongue working past his lips in a sinuous passionate demand that EJ could not, in good conscience, obey.
Breathless, he pulled away and glared down at her. “This can’t happen, Jade.”
“Why? Because you’re committed to Ms. Personal Shopper?”
“Her name is Tabitha.”
“I know what her name is, and I know she could never love you the way I do. The way I’ve loved you ever since high school.” She pulled him into her arms again, burying her face against his neck and inhaling deeply.
Since high school?
EJ pulled away again to gawk at her. “What do you mean since high school?”
“Very well, if you must know…” She sighed before her face suddenly brightened with a smile. “I’ll actually feel better once this is out in the open.”
220
Beneath the Surface
“What the hell are you talking about?” EJ had a bad feeling about this, didn’t like the look on her face, or the signals he was picking up from her aura—stronger than usual, not the vague readings he usually received—as if she had finally let down her mental shields and opened up her inner self to him.
To what did he owe the occasion?
“You should know I’ve had my eyes on you for a long time, as far back as when you were with Sinclair.”
“You…you knew Sinclair and me in high school?”
“I was acquainted with Sinclair. You, I only knew from afar.”
He found the first hard to believe. Jade was not Sinclair’s type of friend. Jade was the cheerleader, popular girl type that dated the captain of the football team. She was actually the type that Sinclair despised, the clique-y girl that looked down on every one else who wasn’t like her.
Sinclair, as beautiful and intelligent as she had been, had been anything but popular except to him. She had gone out of her way not to be popular, like EJ’s brother Nick, a rebel to the core.
All of a sudden snippets of that poem came back to him—
She’s in your life now,
like a pit you can’t shake, jaws clamped down tight on your ankle, How to chew through
the bone…
When he had initially read those lines he had thought it was just typical teenage angst, typical dark, melodramatic Sinclair. Now he knew it was so much more; more sinister and ominous.
“It was you!” EJ stumbled away from Jade as she advanced with this cool, self-satisfied look on her face.
“Trust me, EJ. It was for the best for everyone involved.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”