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I’m not going to seduce my ex-boyfriend. I’m just going to have a conversation with him.
As long as he’ll agree to have one with me.
Gabriel: This is Gabriel. Are you free after work? I want to talk.
Dots appear on the screen. After a few seconds, they disappear. Then they pop up again.
Jacob: Are YOU free? I’m sure you’re the busy one, out of the two of us ;)
Gabriel: Where can I meet you?
Jacob: My place. The photos don’t do it justice.
He texts the address.
I play my part for another hour, then send my secretary home. Retrieve my SUV from the parking garage. Drive.
Another parking garage, this one a couple blocks down from Jacob’s building. The spitting rain from earlier has cleared. I walk under a blue sky through autumn chill.
Partway down the block, a door opens, spilling two people out onto the sidewalk. A tall, blond man and a petite woman with black-brown hair. She has her hand on his elbow, and she’s bent nearly double from laughing so hard.
I recognize her from the Hamilton auction. She’s the artist. He’s her collector.
“You can’t say that to people.” She manages to stand, and he swipes at her tears with the pad of his thumb. “You justcan’t,Emerson.”
“He asked for my opinion. Multiple times.”
“I know, but you can’t—”
“I told the truth, little painter. Nothing was more beautiful or worthwhile than what I walked in with. I stand by it.”
“But hisface.” The artist attempts a sympathetic frown, tipping her face toward his.
He doesn’t have to say that he doesn’t care about some random asshole gallery owner’s face. It’s written all over his. He guides her across the sidewalk and into a waiting SUV. A driver holds the door open for them, amusement in his eyes. He closes it behind them, gets behind the wheel, and they’re gone.
I keep walking.
The jealous heat in my chest is overkill. I’m not going to have that with Elise, or with anyone.
Five minutes later, the elevator in Jacob’s building lets me out on the lower penthouse floor. He stands in the open door of his apartment, a drink in his hand. His blue eyes sparkle like I didn’t reject him at the dinner party. He has the same perfect, sandy hair as always and a smile I recognize on his face.Him,my mind says.You know him.
I don’t. Not anymore. I barely know myself.
“How was your day at the office?” He ushers me into the penthouse like I’m coming home from a long day at work and not visiting my ex-boyfriend as part of my years-long pursuit of revenge. “Exciting?”
“Oh, very exciting. I’m richer than I was this morning.”
“And you deserve every penny. I’ll hang that up for you.” Jacob gestures at my suit jacket with the glass. A frozen ache flashes through my hands.No.I don’t want to undo the buttons. I don’t want to shrug it off. But he’s in slacks and a shirt. Iwant him to tell me about this initiation. I want him to trust me enough to do it. Mirroring will help that along.
I hover slightly outside my body while I slip the jacket off my shoulders and hand it to Jacob. He gives me the drink, then turns to a spacious closet at the side of his vaulted entryway and hangs it carefully on a hanger.
When he turns around again, his eyes are hopeful. A little shy. “Want to see the rest?”
If I pushed him up against the wall right now, he wouldn’t fight. He’d want it. The physical act would make it easier to have the conversation. I’ve run that play hundreds of times.
I can’t do it.
The hurt in Elise’s eyes when she saw us together still sits heavy in my gut. And I might not want to be with Jacob anymore, but I don’t want to lead him on.
