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I lower my eyes to my desk. I won’t find out, I think silently, because I’ve already left him. “Come on Jack,” I say with a lightness I don’t feel. “You have more important things to do with your time than to speculate about my private life.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “What’s more important than you?”
I roll my eyes and he laughs, then his face turns serious. “Rachel, I hope you know that I’m here for you. Whenever you need me.”
He looks so sincere. I sigh, looking from his face to the flowers on my desk. They’re exquisite, and they’ll make me think of Landon all day. When I get home, he’ll be there too, in my memories, in Laurie’s silent disapproval… I have nowhere to escape him.
“So tonight…?” Jack prompts with a hopeful smile, interrupting my thoughts. “Please don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind.”
I look into his gray eyes, the familiar smile, and that lock of hair flopping onto his forehead. Hopefully, the few hours I spend with him will not be full of thoughts of Landon.
“Well,” I smile, “at least tell me where we are going.
AFTER Jack leaves, I throw myself into my work, emailing drafts to the features editor, replying my emails, and checking social feeds for interesting ideas. By the time I leave the office, I’m mentally exhausted.
I have a dinner reservation at Angelos, a Greek restaurant we’ve included in a food wave article about places to eat Greek in major cities. On my way over there, in the cab, my mind slowly loosens from the whirl of the day and inevitably goes back to Landon.
Why did he send the flowers? Was he trying to tell me something? Was it a final footnote, a small gesture to mark the end of our affair? I can’t pretend to understand his motives, especially after this morning.
The flowers were probably nothing, I decide finally. Something he had already planned and decided not to cancel. They’d probably be the last personal communication we would ever have, leaving me with only my thoughts to conquer. Maybe one day I’d run into him at an event, or at a restaurant. Maybe by that time I would be over him, and I wouldn’t completely fall apart.
At Angelos, a wait staff leads me to a table. The restaurant is quiet, with only a few diners. At my table, I take the cushioned seat set against the white brick walls and go through the menu, deciding on roast fish and vegetables, with the signature custard cream pastry.
The food is superb, and I haven’t eaten all day, so for a few moments, I concentrate only on the taste and flavor. Later, I type a few notes in my phone while sipping the remaining wine from the glass I ordered. At one of the other tables, a woman laughs at something her companion said, then takes the forkful of food he offers her. I turn away, my chest suddenly tightening. How long will it take until the ache goes away?
My phone vibrates. It’s a text from Jack.
“Where are you?”
“On my way,”I text back, before gathering my things. Outside, I hail a cab to take me to the bar where we’ve agreed to meet. The cabbie soon leaves me on the sidewalk in front of the incongruous wooden doors that are the entrance to Ambrosia. It’s an art bar, with a constant exhibition of paintings and a stage for presentations, which right now, is empty.
I spot Jack at the bar. He’s deep in conversation with a good looking woman with short, messy hair and bright-red lipstick. I watch him as he says something to make her laugh. He leans forward, smiling at her. Does he even know what he’s doing? Or is flirting just his default setting? I walk over to join them. “Hi, Jack.”
He turns to me, and his smile widens. “Here you are.” He leans in to kiss my cheek, and I can’t help but notice that the long day hasn’t diminished his good looks. “I got us a table,” he tells me, before turning back to the woman and saying something that sounds like ‘Nice to meet you.’
I follow him to one of the booths set back from the main bar, and he beckons for one of the hovering waiters. “You look great, by the way.”
I’m wearing the same thing I was wearing in the morning. “You already saw me today,” I remind him after making my drink order.
“So what?” he says, his grin unrepentant. He pushes his hair back from his forehead and leans forward. “I wasn’t sure I told you earlier.”
I chuckle. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”
“So,” he leans back. “What will?” The grin has disappeared, replaced by a measuring gaze.
I ignore the question. I have no intention of going down that road with him. Not now, not ever.
“Seriously,” he insists, “What will get me somewhere with you?”
“Leave it, Jack,” I say softly. My eyes linger on his handsome face for a moment, and suddenly I’m flooded with gratitude towards Landon. I’m grateful that maybe because of the time we spent together, I can look at Jack and feel nothing. I can spend time with him, without being reduced to a nervous bundle of expectation.
“You want to eat anything?” he asks, “They have…” he shrugs. “Stuff”
I shake my head. “I already had dinner.”
He grins. “I remember when you’d order a little of everything so you could taste it all. You were fearless.”
A trip down memory lane? I smile despite myself, remembering those early days with him. I was fearless until I mentioned that I was in love with him, and he made me feel like a fool.
