"It’s really late.I’m riding with you,” he insisted, pulling on his coat.
Their wait for an Uber lasted less than a minute.Always the gentleman, Jay opened the door for her.This ride differed, with no hand holding and no conversation.Claire gripped the handles of the Silver Screen bags tightly as she ran over the scene on the green velvet sofa, completely baffled.
I guess a drive out to the country tomorrow is off the table now.
When they arrived at her hotel, he followed her out of the car.She took several steps toward the main door before his hand touched her shoulder, forcing her to stop.Her heart beat a furious cadence.Preparing for the worst, she turned back to face him, having no idea how this goodnight scene might play out.
"Thank you again for a lovely evening and for the gifts,” she said.
"Claire, I…” He shook his head, struggling for the right words.
She took his hand, silencing anything that might further contribute to the most grandiose awkward moment of her life.
"Goodnight, Mr.Avery," she said softly.
She gave his hand a quick squeeze, then disappeared inside the hotel.
As much as she wanted to, she didn’t look back.
Just steps inside her suite, she let go—throwing her new coat and purse on the floor in frustration.Seconds later, her shoes and dress landed beside it.Her chest heaved, and she lost it.Tears fell as she paced back and forth, still mentally dissecting what had just happened.
Everything was fine… until it wasn’t.I couldn’t have said anything to upset him.We were kissing, not talking.
And it was incredible.
And I didn’t want to stop.
These and a thousand other thoughts followed her to bed.Lying in the dark room, she popped her knuckles.The sound echoed loudly in the quiet space, minus the ring finger on her left hand, which refused to pop.Well, if that’s not a sign…
Her thoughts turned from Jay to Calvin and the ring.Tears returned—quiet, soft tears of reflection.She tried to imagine what Calvin might be doing at that exact moment.Then, she did the unthinkable.She scrolled through her contacts and stopped on his name.She’d never deleted him from her phone.She hesitated for a few seconds then placed the call.Her heart beat so loudly she could hear it in her ears.
“Hello?”a man answered.
He didn’t have a British accent.Claire’s heart caved.Lucy probably made him get a new number.
“M-May I speak to Calvin?”she asked, her voice quiet and unsure.
“Listen, I don’t know who this Calvin guy is, but this isn’t his number anymore!Stop fucking calling this number!”
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
CLAIRE
Heavy raindrops pelted the windows.The day so perfectly matched Claire’s mood.She sat at her desk in front of the large picture window analyzing proofs from a recent photoshoot.But the weather, coupled with images of Jay’s face, made it difficult to keep her mind on her work, and her eyes kept turning back to the city beyond the damp glass.
Something behind his eyes still eluded her.Despite his intelligence, quick wit, and genuine laugh, something about him unsettled her.He carried a sense of disconnection that went beyond the death of his wife—something deeper, more intense.Something she often recognized in herself.
A whistling kettle brought her thoughts back into focus.She shoved the photos into a large folder and hustled to the kitchen.Cup of tea in hand, she snuggled on the sofa in her living room, thankful to spend the rainy Sunday afternoon in quiet solitude.She reached for her cell and placed her weekly covert check-in call.
"Hello?"a woman answered, almost out of breath.
"Carol?Are you okay?You sound like you just ran a marathon."
"Never a dull moment around here.How are you, honey?"
"I’m great.Sorry to bother you.Thought I'd see how he's doing."
"He’s his charming, snarky self, same as always.You know how Harry is.”
