The Truth About Fairy Tales (18 page)

             
“You know you’re being too nice to me, don’t you?” he asked me later when we lay in bed holding each other.

             
“No, I’m not,” I grinned at his somewhat guilty expression.

             
“Yes, you are; I don’t deserve it. I would have done anything to get him out of the way and if I’m being honest it started before I ever met you.”

             
Okay, that had grabbed my attention quite nicely. I had no idea what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”

             
“I swore I would never tell you this, but you have to promise you won’t be mad.” I looked at him feeling my uneasiness grow.

             
“I can’t promise you that until I know what you’ve done.”

             
“I lied to you when I told you Ben never talked about you. He was always talking about Maggie this and Maggie that. He was always telling me all those little infuriating sweet things about you. I think I wanted you before I ever even saw you the first time, and I have to tell you Maggie I saw you before that night at the restaurant. I knew the moment I saw you that I had to get to know you better. I just figured, well, I guess I hoped Ben was just being foolish—in love…whatever, I was hoping none of it was true.”

             
“You saw me before that night? When?”

             
At the restaurant where you work. Ben told me where you were working and I knew the owner. I went there one night. I didn’t sit in your section and of course you never saw me, but I sure noticed you. Boy, did I see you. I think I was gone the second I saw those ridiculous little hair clips in your hair. You looked so sweet.”

             
I made a choking sound that had nothing to do with the laughter that I was trying to pull off. I hoped he’d believe I was just thoroughly amused by his story. It was more than that. I was blown away by what Jackson had just said.

             
“I know that sounds crazy, but you looked so cute. All five foot nothing of you standing there laughing at some customer’s joke. I knew then that no matter what Ben thought he felt about you he was history. So, you see, you have nothing to feel bad about over Ben, Maggie. I’m the one that should be feeling like a heel and I do. Please tell me you won’t ever tell him about this. He still holds out some nice thoughts about me and I’d hate to lose my only living relative.

             
At the pitiful pleading expression on his face, I burst out laughing for real. At that moment, he looked more like a lost puppy dog than I’d ever imagined Ben to be.

             
“You’re laughing at me, little bit? I’m pouring my heart out to you and you’re laughing?” He rolled over on his back, taking me with him. I don’t think he really minded my laughter very much. I think he took it just before he took me as just another sign that I’d forgive him anything he wanted me to.

             
Thanksgiving Day dawned cold and rainy in Paris. Jackson woke me just before dawn with coffee.

             
I managed to get dressed with a lot of difficulty that morning because Jackson kept trying to convince me to join him in the shower. I still remembered the last time that had happened. We hadn’t gotten out of bed for hours.

             
“Go away. I’m never getting dressed if you keep doing what you’re doing right now.”

             
He finally left me in peace long enough to put some clothes on, but he was waiting for me with coffee in hand at the bathroom door.

             
“Come outside on the balcony and watch the sun rise with me.” Before Jackson’s little confession last night, I’d always been a little overwhelmed by him. Now I couldn’t have loved him more. Jackson was perfect.

             
We stood together looking out at the street below as the city came to life all around us. It might be Thanksgiving in the states, but it was just another working day in Paris.

             
“I’ve been here maybe a couple of other times—once at Christmas. You would love it here at Christmas. The place absolutely comes alive with the season.”

             
At the mention of the holiday I wasn’t looking forward to, I wanted to cry. Two weeks from now, I would be finished with school and ready to move home again. I’d been reminding Jackson with my little hints for weeks now, but always they met with silence. It was as if that silence confirmed the truth.

             
Every single mention of the time of year that I’d once loved made me want to cry and lash out at him. I believed I had my answer. Jackson didn’t want anything long-term with me. He wanted only to enjoy the moment. I’d long ago given up trying to convince myself that I wanted the same thing.

             
I felt myself withdrawing from him that day more than ever before. It was out of self-defense really. I was steeling my heart for the future, my future—the one that didn’t include him.

             
“Aren’t you even the least bit curious? Aren’t you going to ask me what the surprise is, Maggie?” I knew he sensed the change in me. He wanted to know why, but I couldn’t say the words that would bring that conversation about. I just couldn’t. Instead, I smiled, even though it could hardly be called a smile and asked him about that surprise.

             
“Well today is Thanksgiving, so I’ve managed to find a restaurant that was willing to prepare the traditional Thanksgiving meal for us. Go get dressed up. We’re going out.”

             
That was the very last thing I wanted to do right now, but I did it just to please him. I would have done just about anything to make Jackson happy.

             
The restaurant that he was talking about turned out to be not in Paris but in the wine country beyond.

             
In a converted farmhouse outside of Paris, I found I had the best Thanksgiving ever. Jackson had booked the entire restaurant that afternoon just for the two of us. It should have been a dream come true. If I weren’t looking ahead to that fateful day in two weeks, I would have been thrilled.

             
We ate our traditional dinner, drank wine, and danced to slow music that I didn’t understand but had never sounded more romantic. And for a few hours I managed to push the future away and was happy.

             
Once we were back at the hotel Jackson reminded me that I should call my grandmother. I wanted to, but I had no idea how much it would cost and I was feeling more than a little guilty about all the money he’d spent on me so far.

             
“Call her, Maggie.”

             
The second I heard Gran’s voice I was homesick for the first time on this trip. It was late here, but there they were just sitting down to dinner. We talked for a long time and then my sweet little grandmother asked to speak to Jackson.

             
“She asked me to have Christmas with her,” he told me later that night when we were drifting off to sleep. I remembered my future without him in it and the pain.

             
“So you’re going to come see us in Santa Anna then?” I asked him in my best ‘I don’t care what you do voice,’ and felt Jackson withdraw from me for the first time.

             
His answer was vague. That night, for the first time in our brief history together, we fell asleep on opposite ends of the bed.

Chapter Ten

             
Back home, I began the final weeks of my life in Austin more determined than ever. I was going through with my plans for the future. I was not going to let Jackson hurt me and I didn’t care if he returned my love or not.

             
I started spending more time at home in my little apartment getting rid of the junk that I’d accumulated through all those years of school. I was pretty much lying to Jackson, telling him I needed all the time I could get to study without interruptions, but the truth was I was distancing myself from him and the inevitable.

             
I’d finished my work at the restaurant before we’d left for Paris, so I was free to obsess about what Jackson was doing without me. I wondered which of the women of the week he would be with tonight.

             
Jackson had told me that he wanted to take me out the night of my final test to celebrate my new career. He wouldn’t tell me where he was taking me, but he’d told me to dress up because it was going to be a special night.

             
By this time, we were barely talking to each other. At least, I was barely talking. He was trying, but I was just so angry with him that I usually ended up picking an argument and having him give up on me entirely or I would simply hang up on him. I was scared and this was the only way I knew to fight that fear.

             
The day of my final test Jackson left a message for me to meet him at the Woods, a very upscale restaurant, at eight. I spent the rest of the day crying.

             
I was determined I was leaving the following morning to take my things back home. I’d told him all of that and been rewarded by his silence again before I’d hung up on him. I still didn’t know where I stood with him.

             
By seven, when I looked at the puffy eyed monster in the mirror, I decided I had to see him one last time no matter how pitiful I looked. I could do this. I could be strong. I would just walk into that restaurant, smile, and tell him to go to hell.

             
I layered on pounds of makeup in an attempt to cover the puffiness beneath my eyes but that really didn’t work. No amount of makeup could cover my red eyes or nose.

             
I put on my favorite dress and told the maître d’ whom I was there to meet. She smiled and told me Jackson was waiting for me.

             
He was seated at a nice quiet corner table of the restaurant facing the door, so I knew he’d seen me arrive. There was champagne waiting—it was to be the perfect sendoff. As I got closer, my steps faltered, the maître d’ looked back at me and I bit my lip and clenched my hands tight to keep from crying.

             
I knew the second he stood and kissed me and then waited for me to sit that he’d seen the evidence of my tears. I saw it all in those compassionate blue eyes of his.

             
Jackson was trying his best to make me smile.

             
“You did it, Maggie.” He smiled at me with that smile that did everything for me and reminded me of so many times with him that I had to look away. I couldn’t look at him.

             
He poured champagne and handed me a glass, which I almost spilled because my fingers were trembling.

             
“I think this calls for a toast, don’t you?”

             
I looked into his smiling eyes and I lost it. I sat the glass down on the table and stood up. “I can’t do this.” I somehow managed to force those words out before I walked away.

             
“Maggie,” he called after me, but I ignored Jackson Riley’s pleas entirely. I’d planned to be strong tonight, but I was still that frightened little girl living on the streets waiting for her little bit of happiness to be taken way.

             
I ran, literally ran from the restaurant because I was afraid he might come after me. Even more afraid that he wouldn’t.

             
I got into my car and drove home, but I didn’t go inside my empty packed up apartment. I couldn’t face the evidence that it was over. Instead, I went to my secret hiding place. The place that no one knew about.

             
I sat there curled up tight on the window ledge and cried. I had been so determined to breeze through life untouched by human emotions, but here I sat with my heart broken by a man that didn’t love me. I could almost understand how my mother must have felt.

             
“Maggie.” I hadn’t heard Jackson come in but at the gentle sound of his voice, I turned away. I didn’t want him to see my tears or just how frightened I was right now.

             
“How did you find me?”

             
“Your grandmother. She told me about your secret hiding places.”

             
“I really don’t want any company right now, Jackson, so if you don’t mind, could you just leave?”

             
“I do mind. Maggie, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? I thought this was what you wanted.”

             
He knelt in front of me and took my hands away from my face. When I looked at him, he was watching me with that same tender expression that had been there so many times before.

             
And I lost it.

             
“You were just going to let me go, weren’t you? You don’t care. You were just going to let me walk away and that would be it.” I was crying so hard I could hardly get the words out, but I caught his expression. I’d never seen him look so hurt or so lost before. That was definitely not the way Jackson felt.

             
“Oh, Maggie…” I barley recognized his voice. “Nothing could be further from the truth. I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to give up your dreams for me either. I’d hate myself for making you have any regrets.”

             
“So you don’t care about me at all. It was all about the sex, is that it? You just want me to go away and leave you alone so you can go back to all those other women.”

             
He laughed, but there wasn’t any real amusement in Jackson’s laughter anymore. “You’ve been telling me since the first day I met you what you wanted to do with your life. You pretty much set me straight that there was no future for us from the beginning, so I’d better not expect any and you’re blaming me for keeping to your demands?”

             
“Oh go away. I’ve heard enough.”

             
He didn’t. He pulled my hands away again and forced me to look at him. “Do you want to stay, little bit?”