Love Online (Truly Yours Digital Editions) (10 page)

“In any case I couldn’t bear another moment in Jim’s company, and with Tom there—” Jess slid to the edge of her seat. “I went to the rest room, wrote Jim a note of apology for having to leave, and gave it to Dora to pass on to him.”

“You walked out on your date?” Marilyn’s mouth hung open in a circle of awe.

“I took care of the bill. I was nervous, okay?” The better part of judgment told her not to go on with the worst of it. “And then I gave Dora a note—to give to Tom.” The confession tumbled out of her mouth as if of its own volition.

A mild gasp escaped Marilyn’s lips. “Jess! He was on a date!” She shook her head. “What kind of note?”

“In retrospect a pathetic, ugly note. I asked him to call me.” Jess unzipped her purse, dug through its contents, and pulled out her cell phone. “And look at the number of unheard messages I have.
Zero
.”

A waitress arrived at the table, rail thin and jumpy, pad and pencil poised. “Ready to order?”

“Burger, well done,” Marilyn said, eyes still round.

“A cup of chicken soup, please.” Her topsy-turvy stomach pitched in protest.

“An
ugly,
pathetic
note?” Marilyn rested her cheek against her fist. “Care to elaborate?”

“Not really, but”—Jess took a sip of iced water and cleared her throat—“it went something like, ‘I hope we’re still best friends. I love you and—’ ”

“Whoa! Back up!” Marilyn brushed a bouncy curl from her forehead. “
I love you?
”

Jess tightened her trembling fingers. “Tom knows what I mean.”

“Does he?”

Ignoring the sarcasm, she lifted her chin. “I invited him to dinner at my place on Saturday, with a promise to cook all his favorites.” Jess’s nervous giggle failed to alter her friend’s scowl of disapproval. “You don’t think Tom took it the wrong way, do you?”

Marilyn fanned herself with a napkin. “Are you sure you want the truth?”

“Keep in mind that I’ve been leasing my apartment for less than a year. I haven’t had a chance to invite him up for dinner.” Jess sat ramrod straight. Spoken aloud, her claims sounded ridiculous. “Tom’s been
inside
my apartment—when other friends were there.” She pulled in a breath. “So what do you think?”

Marilyn shrugged. “That you were afraid to be alone with him?”

“Ha! You know Tom. He’s the perfect gentleman.” At least when it came to her.

“I don’t know.” Marilyn sighed. “The first time you see Tom on a real date is the first time you decide to invite him to your place for dinner—alone. He has to think you’re making a play.” She put her hand to her throat. “Or that you’re a jealous maniac. And I’m beginning to think it’s the latter.”

“
Oh, yuk!
” Jess said as the waitress set down their plates, then shot her a scathing look. “I didn’t mean
yuk
about the food.” The woman strode off without acknowledgment. “I’m a mess.”

Smiling, Marilyn quartered her burger with a knife. “Tom’s going to call, Jess. I’m sure of it.”

“Right.” And even if he did, where would they go from there? “Tom pinned a flower in his date’s hair. Can you believe that?”

❧

Tom declined Frank’s invitation to lunch. Preferring the solitude of his office, he phoned the deli to have a sandwich brought in and retrieved Jess’s wrinkled note from his pocket.

Sitting at his desk, he flattened the paper on the blotter. Last night he’d only scanned her letter. And when his head hit the pillow, he thanked the Lord he hadn’t read anything into it.

Before walking out the door to work this morning, he stuffed the note into his pocket for the sole purpose of reexamining his motives before flat out refusing her offer of dinner at her place.

Clasping his hands behind his head, Tom pulled in a deep breath. A man with a big ego might interpret her sudden interest as a sign of jealousy. If jealousy had provoked her reckless, uncharacteristic behavior, he’d have no part in it. But if she sincerely wanted to maintain their friendship, how could he refuse? As a man of his word, he intended to keep his promise to Dean to look out for Jess. He just wished she wouldn’t tease him. He had no illusion that Jess’s note meant anything other than she didn’t like seeing him with another woman. Well, he was no saint there. He hadn’t liked seeing her with another man either.

Tom picked up the phone, turned it over in his hand, and shook his head. If Jess needed him, she knew where to find him. He was through with following her like a puppy at the heel, nipping and hoping for any sign of attention. Life went on. And he must, too, or he’d spend his life alone while he watched Jess keep him at bay.

Shuffling through his stack of phone messages, he pulled out the one from Linda and dialed her number.

Nine

Jess crushed the sofa pillow to her ear and rolled onto her side. Kiwi’s tweets and whistles grew louder.

Chucking the pillow, she sat upright and looked across the living room at the little green merrymaker. Hopping happily from perch to perch, the parakeet appeared innocent of intruding on her nap. Rehashing her idiotic antics over lunch with Marilyn had left Jess too edgy to sleep.

Pushing up from the sofa cushions, Jess strode across the room to the cellular phone on the desk. The phone’s glass window told her what she already knew—
no new messages
. She took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and dialed Tom’s office. Enough of her childish behavior.

One ring. . .

She pressed the
DISCONNECT
button and shook her head. Perhaps she should plan what she wanted to say. Pacing in front of Kiwi’s cage, she stopped and hit
REDIAL
. There was no good reason to act like a stuttering schoolgirl with Tom.

One ring. . .

Jess loosened her grip on the phone, lest she pop its plastic innards.

Two rings. . .

“Good afternoon, Mr. Winters’s office.”

On hearing Fran’s familiar voice, Jess’s mouth formed words without sound.

“Mr. Winters’s office,” Fran repeated.

“Oh, Fran, hello, it’s Jessica.”

“Why, hello, Jessica. I haven’t seen you in quite awhile.” If the middle-aged, prim, and proper assistant suspected trouble brewing between Tom and her, she was too professional to let it creep into her tone.

“I’ve been working hard, you know.” Jess ran her tongue over her parched lips. “I was just wondering if Tom’s around. But if he’s too busy—”

“Tom’s in his office. Just a moment. And, please, come visit soon.”

“Will do.” A jaunty tune replaced Fran’s voice. Jess pressed her hand over her thudding heart.
Now what?
She dare not ask him why he hadn’t phoned, though he had a nerve.

“Hi, Jess, what’s up?”

Tom’s curt greeting drew strength from her legs. “Are you busy?”

“I’m expecting a client any minute, but—”

“Sorry.” The roots of her hair tingled with embarrassment. She cleared her throat. “I was just wondering if you got my note. . .if Dora gave you—”

“Yes, I got it.”

And?
Treading the carpet like a terrified mouse, Jess stopped for a breath. “So can you make it on Saturday?”

“Really, I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

He didn’t sound a bit sorry. “Oh, that’s too bad.” Jess slapped her thigh. She could do without the whiny voice. “I guess you’re busy?”

“Yes, I have plans.”

“Well, then. . .” Jess resumed pacing.
What kind of plans?
She’d once had the liberty to ask without giving it a second thought. A deep sadness settled over her. But if she didn’t follow up with a comment, she’d risk being a bigger fool in Tom’s eyes. “So how did your online date work out?”

“Actually, pretty good. In fact, Linda’s the reason I can’t make it Saturday.”

Twisting, Jess caught a glimpse of her stunned reflection in the mirror. “A second date then? Good for you.” Her voice broke, betraying her words. Fighting her rising dismay, she pulled in a deep breath. “Can you come for dinner Friday instead? We can catch up on things.”

“Don’t you work Friday nights?”

“Usually.” Her face heated. “But I can trade days with Melanie. You know, the new assistant chef.”

“I see.” Tom’s sigh wafted to her ear, sinking her heart. He wanted a polite way out. But why should she make his departure any easier on him? “I don’t know, Jess. I—”

“Well, what is it?” She spat the words, hurt suddenly veering to anger. “Do you have plans with Linda tomorrow as well?” Jess clamped her hand over her mouth. She wasn’t a jealous maniac, but she’d done nothing to deserve getting kicked to the curb—for a stranger.

“No, I’m
not
seeing Linda tomorrow night.” The edge in Tom’s voice made her shudder. She had to learn a whole new way of speaking to him, of tiptoeing around certain topics—Linda being one of them.

Jess pressed her hand to her chest, hoping to still her thudding heart. “Then maybe you can make some time for your friends.” She could get through this. She’d not allow anger to destroy what little remained of what they once had. “This friend in particular?”

Another sigh. “All right, Jess.”

If she harbored any spark of hope that they’d return to the way they were, the sound of his resignation extinguished it. Anger sifted out of her, leaving grief in its wake.

“Jess? What time should I be there?” Tom’s voice was softer now.

“How about six? Is that good for you?” A shiver of humiliation ran up her spine. The self-conscious words passing between them reeked of formality—a prelude to what would eventually dwindle into a final good-bye, she knew.

“Six o’clock sounds—just a sec,” Tom said. “My client’s here, but six sounds fine. I’ll see you then.”

“Yes, I’ll—” The line went dead.

Jess set down the phone and dropped into the chair beside the oak desk. Smoothing her hand across the cool wood, she looked at the framed photo of her smiling father. “See what happened, Daddy.” A sob lodged in her throat. She pressed her lips into a tight line and swallowed. “Even you couldn’t plan for this. But it’s not your fault.”

Jess slipped out of the chair, dropped to her knees, and closed her eyes. “Please, Lord, don’t let Tom fall in love with Linda.”

Sweat tingled on her forehead. “That’s not a valid prayer, is it? If it’s not Linda, it’ll be another woman. I pray for
Your
perfect will to be done, Lord, not mine. I trust You know what’s best for me.” Tightening her laced fingers, she rocked forward and pressed her head against her hands. “But what if I’ve fallen in love with—”

Her throat swelled and ached. Jess scrambled to her feet, knocking the porcelain sailboat to the rug, pushing the unthinkable from her mind. Even in her dreams, the words were too dangerous to utter.

Tom had never shown a romantic interest in her. Jess set the knickknack back on the desk. She had to face facts—she just wasn’t Tom’s type. And if she threw herself into his arms—even once—her heart would forever be in his hands. Somehow she’d always known that.

Jess strode across the room to the sofa, sat down in front of her laptop, and snapped down the keys to sign on to the Internet. She promised herself four more dates. She couldn’t give up on pursuing her dream—not yet.

Scrolling through her E-mail, she clicked open the first with
Love Online
in the subject header.

Dear Loves God (Nice handle),

I’m fairly new to Internet dating, and though I’ve met an interesting member, your profile captured my curiosity. (For personal reasons, I prefer to date several women until I know where the Lord’s leading.)

Jess nodded. “Now that’s honest enough.”

Like you, I’m in my early thirties and live in midtown Manhattan. It seems our similarities outweigh our differences. If after reading my profile you agree, and you’d like to meet me, please send me an E-mail, and we’ll make arrangements.

Best regards,

TCTwo

With trembling hands, Jess hit the
REPLY
button. “Please, Lord, don’t let this be another Jim.”

No one could replace Tom, but a couple of dates might help fill the gaping void he’d left in her life. Short of begging, she’d practically had to twist Tom’s arm to get him to agree to dinner.

Imagine, trying to persuade him to see her as more than a friend? Jess shook her head and typed,
Dear TCTwo
. . . .

❧

Frank slammed his fist into his palm. “You’re getting suckered right back into it, Pal.”

“Thanks for looking out for me, but Jess is a friend.” Tom shrugged into his suit jacket. “She’s extending an olive branch, and I can’t turn her down.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Frank dropped to the edge of the desk. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I promise I won’t.” Striding to the door, Tom hit the light switch and turned. “Planning to sit in my office all night?”

They walked to the elevator in silence. Frank’s shadow felt like a weight on his shoulder—a good angel or a bad angel, he couldn’t decide. Tom pressed the elevator button and leveled a gaze at him. “You really dislike Jess, don’t you?”

Staring down at the floor, Frank shrugged. “There’s no denying she’s drop-dead gorgeous, but she’s driving you crazy.”

The words were a punch to his gut. Suspicion hit, turning his insides cold and tightening every muscle in his body. “What? Is it a love-hate thing? Are you interested?”

Frank’s laugh echoed through the reception area. “Yeah, like I have shot with that. . .
princess
.”

Tom’s pulse kicked up. He jammed his foot against the elevator door to hold it open. “What’s that supposed to mean?”