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Eva laughed and ended the call, wishing her sister love, wishing she could hit Rewind and do this month over. She’d avoid Ames, and not—
No, she would never do that. As much as this hurt, she would never wish she hadn’t met him, hadn’t gotten to know him, hadn’t fallen in love with him.
She flopped back down onto Chris’s bed, buried her face into the pillow. Outside the squeal of tires and angry honking, then furious obscenity-laden shouts. Down the hall, icky sex noises.
Eva grabbed the pillow and put it over her head, screwing her eyes shut. She missed California. The wide-open space, the quiet, the slower pace of life. She missed her privacy. She missed her bed.
She imagined herself lying in it, windows wide-open, the sound of the surf coming through clearly, Ames’s arms around her... Mmm.
Wait. How did he get there? He lived here.
She adjusted the pillow and went back to California, strolling Aura Beach at sunset, letting the waves splash her ankles, her hand in Ames’s...blissful.
Her eyes opened. Him again. In California. Again.
Wait a second...
She slithered off the bed and onto the floor, got in lotus position, cleared her mind, relaxed her body, concentrated on her breathing. In a few minutes she fell into the familiar light trance of meditation, and imagined herself staying with Ames in New York. Together at another client dinner. Eating falafel on a bench in Washington Square Park. Playing mini golf. Serving him coffee at NYEspresso.
The inner voice was clear as a bell, same as ever, no, no, no, no.
She regrouped, redirected, refocused. Went back to California. With Ames. Again strolling on the beach, picnicking at the cliffside table, serving him coffee at Slow Pour. Introducing him to Zac...
Yes.
Adrenaline poured through her system. She got to her feet, breathing hard, her chest heaving.
It wasn’t Ames she didn’t belong with.
It was New York.
* * *
AMES SAT AT his desk, staring at the phone. He had about ten calls to make. Existing clients. Potential clients. Vineyards they worked with. Vineyards they wanted to work with.
He didn’t want to talk to anyone.
How could one woman rule his life to this extent? He’d never been this caught up in anyone, never had a woman who wielded this much power over him without any attempt on her part to do so.
Maybe he should have known from the beginning Eva would be trouble, when she’d approached him in NYEspresso with his armful of flowers for her sister and told him she’d like to order him for home delivery.
The memory stabbed him. How had he gone from exasperation with her to giddy heights of passion and love, then down to the painful depths in such a short time?
If this was what love did, maybe he should give it up. Maybe Eva was right to be so afraid of letting herself fall—he was sure that was the problem. Not that she didn’t or couldn’t love him, but that she felt it would squash her as flat as the little black dress.
He wanted her to stay as she was, colorful and free. But with him.
Of course it was too much to ask her to give up her life in California for him. But another month...was that too much? Or was she right and whether she stayed or went, they’d still be stuck in this same place?
“You know, I’ve seen misery in my life, but nothing as depressing as being around you.”
He tried to hide how badly she’d startled him. “Yeah, thanks, Jean. That was really sweet.”
“I’m serious.” She folded her arms across her Yankees sweatshirt and glared at him through her thick glasses. “You’re a loser.”
“Really. I’m a loser. Hey, thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. Dinner is in the refrigerator—I made you chicken soup—see if it will make you feel any better.” She rolled her eyes. “Though I doubt it.”
He nodded, reaching for the phone, even though he had no intention of talking to anyone. He just wanted her to leave. “Thanks, Jean. You can—”
“Only one thing good for what ails you, buddy.”
“Yeah?” He took a breath, started counting to ten.
“Grow a pair.”
That was it. “Excuse me?”
“I said—”
“Yeah, I heard you.”
“You miss her? You love her? Go after her!”
