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TWENTY-ONE
How far are you willing to go?
Jewel posed the query to herself for the umpteenth time that afternoon.
Regardless of the dire warning issued by Rogen’s mother cloaked in emotional blackmail—and her own personal torment—the plain and simple truth was: The woman had a point.
Several of them, actually.
So now Jewel had to seriously consider how far she’d take her involvement with her two lovers, knowing this plain and simple truth.
While Jewel paced her office after a very uncomfortable, somewhat harrowing, lunch and stewed over … everything … her thoughts kept returning to what Rose-Marie had said about someone always getting hurt in these types of situations. All the questions she’d posed that Jewel had not previously considered and had not been able to answer. Lobbed on top of Rogen wondering whether she truly understood what it would really mean to be in a long-term, committed relationship with him and Vin.
She loved both men. To the depths of her soul.
But what sort of position were they really putting themselves in? If things went awry, if it didn’t pan out for one or all of the reasons Rose-Marie had addressed, or for any other reason, how would it affect them all?
What about Rogen and Vin’s friendship? Christ, they were like brothers.
Jewel had come between them once before. Albeit temporarily. Still, it could happen again. And this time it might be even more disastrous. Something none of them could recover from …
There was something else Rose-Marie had said that kept pecking away at Jewel’s brain.
I’ve never hated Sophia. Not a day in my life. What I feel, Jewel, is a much, much stronger, more loathsome emotion than hate.
Jewel snatched her iPhone from the desk and called Rogen.
He wasn’t exactly in a fantastic mood.
“I cannot get my father to budge,” he said crossly.
She groaned. “To be honest, I’m certain my father will never agree to the sale now, either. Not while my mother’s still so upset over … us.”
“Fuck!” he roared. “We were so goddamn close.”
To the joint venture … and to a three-way happily ever after.
Jewel’s eyes briefly closed.
Kismet and family forces had fucked them again?
Maybe …
Or maybe not.
Because they still had one more avenue to explore.
Perking up, she contended, “It’s not over yet. Vin hit upon a valid point the other night. So get your mother to Tea and Sympathy at six P.M. tomorrow. The back room with the private entrance. I’ll make a reservation for three—her, you, and Vin. In your name, in case she gets suspicious and calls the restaurant.”
“What’s cooking in that clever brain of yours?”
“Just play along. I have a plan.”
A unicorn, if you will.…
* * *
Jewel walked into the cozy event room of Tea & Sympathy in River Cross and wanted very much to simply turn around and walk out.
