Page 85 of First in Line

“I’m not letting you pay for everything,” I protest. When I see the flicker of hope in his gaze, I quickly correct myself with, “I’m not coming to Europe with you, but if I were, I would pay for my share of things.”

“You can’t afford half of my lifestyle, princess. And I’m not even paying for most of it. Altron is.”

“Good for you, Hot Wheels. But regardless of who’s paying what, I can’t follow you halfway around the world.”

“It’s not even one-third of the way around,” he corrects me. “And why?”

“I have a job.”

“You just said it would be quiet this summer. And you can take your laptop along. I promise I’ll let you work.”

“I can’t drop everything for two weeks.”

His demeanor completely changes, and he starts looking around the tiled floor intently, bending over to check every nook and corner. “What are you doing?” I ask, confused.

“Looking for a dog or a cat that needs daily feedings.”

My face falls flat, unamused. “I don’t have one.”

“I don’t see any plants that need watering either.”

“You know I’m bad with plants.”

“So, what’s the holdup? Why can’t you leave for a couple of weeks?”

“Because I just can’t,” I argue, irritated that he won’t let it go.

“One good argument, Evangeline. Give me one good argument why you can’t come with me, and I’ll let it go.”

I try so hard to think of something, but nothing comes. He’s right. I could walk out right now, lock my door, and leave for two entire months without it being an issue at any level. I’m about to give up when I suddenly remember.

“Cynthia. My best friend. Her birthday is right after mine, late June, and we’ve been planning a surprise for her for months.It’ll actually be kind of a joint birthday for us both. I can’t miss that.”

“You’ll be back in time for it. I might even come back with you, unless it clashes with Spielberg, in which case you’ll fly alone, and I’ll go to Austria.”

Crap, that didn’t work at all.

“Come on, princess. Everyone deserves a break now and then. And the French Riviera has to be the best place for it,” he cleverly argues.

That is indeed very tempting…

When I can’t think of anything else to say, I realize I have to tell him the truth about why I can’t follow him to Europe. It’ll hurt us both, but I can’t lose focus on what’s important.

“I’m not coming with you to Europe, Jax, because I’m afraid you’ll read it as something it’s not.”

“Meaning?”

“I meant the divorce. I wanted it, genuinely, and I still do. Tonight, having sex, it—”

“Greatsex.”

“Right. It was great. But it wasn’t anything more than that. Great sex that doesn’t mean we’re getting back together.”

As I suspected, my insistence hurts him. He’s good at hiding it, but not good enough. “What if I promise not to make a big deal out of it? We’ll travel around together, do the touristy shit, fuck whenever we’re in the mood… And when the time comes, I promise not to say anything or hold you back. I’ll drive you to the airport, even, and let you return to your job and your life here without a complaint.”

I wish I could believe him. I really do, but if there’s one thing I know about this man, it’s that when he wants something, nothing can stop him from getting it.

“Can I think about it?” I ask. My mind is made up, but it’ll buy me some time.