Chapter Three（1）

“You’re talking to yourself again,” the universe replied, pushing open my office door.

Okay, it was Jake, but he was kind of my universe.

For a guy who’d had less sleep than me, he looked unfairly refreshed and vital on a damp and drizzly Monday morning. He wore boots, jeans, a tailored white shirt, and a brown tweed blazer, which brought out the gold glints in his hazel eyes. His blond hair was silvering at the temples and a fraction longer than he used to wear. He was still hard and fit, but he’d lost that gaunt, haggard look he’d had six months ago when we’d met up again after two years apart.

In fact, he looked healthy and relaxed. Like he’d really spent the last few days on vacation instead of the family holiday from hell.

“Hey,” I said, by way of greeting. I won’t say I actually fell into his arms, but I was pretty happy to see him.

“Hey yourself,” Jake replied and kissed me, the warm pressure of his mouth firm against my own.

Hard to say—and it was a theory I planned on testing a lot over the next forty years—but I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of kissing Jake.

Even these quick perfunctory kisses—well, it had started out quick and perfunctory, but the taste of him: that weirdly erotic blend of coffee and breath mint; the smell of him: an even weirder erotic blend of suitcase and Le Male aftershave; and the warm weight of his hand on my shoulder, drawing me in close, closer…

Reluctantly, we parted lips.

“Jesus, I missed you.” He smiled into my eyes.

“Same here.”

“I got used to spending all day every day with you.”

I said regretfully, “If only it paid better.”

There was definitely a sparkle in his eyes. “Well, I might have some good news on that front. Are you ready for lunch?”

I laughed. “Lunch? It’s ten thirty in the morning.”

“Is it?” Jake glanced at the clock on my desk. “It feels a lot later.”

“It’s been a long morning,” I agreed.

“Everything okay?” He took a closer look at me. “Is Natalie okay?”

“I think so. I hope so. You know what, why don’t we get a coffee or something? I need to get out of here for a while.”

True, I’d only been in there about five minutes. It was just like old times.

His dark brows rose. He said, “Sure. You want to walk, or you want to take a drive?”

I grabbed my black overcoat. “Let’s walk.”

When we stepped outside the bookstore, the rain had softened to a light, shimmering mist. More like holiday décor than actual wet. Christmas is the only holiday I can think of where it continues to feel like holiday-in-progress even the day after. Maybe because people were still bustling around with heavy shopping bags, and the Eagles were plea-bargaining from storefront speakers.

If not for Christmas, by New Year’s night…

Window displays were filled with fake snow and glittering lights and toy trains and anthropomorphic stuffed animals drinking coffee and showing off engagement rings. Who knew how much penguins relished that holiday bling?

Everyone who wasn’t trying to park or find their car was in a festive mood. And it was contagious. As in, I needed to remember to take my vitamin C when we got back.

“Funny how cities have their own smell,” Jake remarked. “London just didn’t smell like Pasadena.” He casually dropped his arm around my shoulders, and I smiled at him.

It’s not like I needed the physical proof of PDAs, and frankly Jake’s willingness to put his arm around me or hold my hand in public meant as much to me as the actual act. I can’t deny that warm weight on my shoulders felt good. Right.

“Thanks again for going with me,” I said.

“Not like it was a big sacrifice. I like being with you. I never figured on seeing London, so that was kind of nice.”

And kind of exhausting. Or maybe that was more my take than Jake’s. I’d been the one to push for coming home early.

“If we were to travel somewhere for a real vacation or…something, where would you want to go?”

The arm around my shoulders jumped as he shrugged. “Never thought about it. Kate always wanted to go to Italy.”

I glanced at him. His smile was wry, his expression distant. He almost never talked about Kate or their marriage, and I understood that this was out of loyalty to her. That loyalty was just one of the many things I liked about him.

I said, “Ireland maybe? With a last name like Riordan.”

“Maybe. Anywhere you’re going works for me.”

I looked down, smiling, and his arm tightened in a quick squeeze.

We ended up having Irish coffees at Edwin Mills, a hip tavern down an alley off Colorado, which had opened early to accommodate the madding crowds.

Edison bulbs radiated cozy light in the shadowy interior. Fresh flowers decorated the tables, and beautiful, slightly disturbing art hung from the brick walls.

“Any word on when Paul Kane is going to trial?” I asked.

“Not yet. I heard through Chan he’s changed lawyers again. He’s still trying for bail. Why?”

I shrugged. “Just a crazy morning.” The kind of morning where you start reminiscing about all the people who’ve tried to kill you over the years.

He leaned back in the red leather booth. “What was especially crazy about this morning?”

I tipped my finger at him so he understood I hadn’t missed the emphasis, and while we waited for our drinks, proceeded to update him re the ongoing battle with the Franchise Tax Board.

He heard me out and then said, “You could hire an accountant to handle the tax stuff, right?”

“Right. True.”

“This is not something you need to be stressing over.”

“I know.” I made a face because he wasn’t just talking practicality. He was talking about my commitment to living a healthier lifestyle. Apparently it wasn’t only about avoiding getting stabbed or shot or bitten by rattlesnakes.

Our coffees arrived, but I’d already learned that Jake, unlike me, is not easily distracted from making his point. And sure enough.

“So?” he pressed after I’d fortified myself with a couple of swallows of coffee, whisky, and whipped cream.

“Accountants cost money, you know.”

He was unmoved. “So?” he repeated.

I remembered Natalie’s “control freak” comment, and sighed. “So I’ll see about hiring someone to take over fighting with the Franchise Tax Board.”

His mouth twitched in a repressed smile. “See? That wasn’t so hard. What was Natalie crying about? Her hair?”

“Her hair? No. Although now I’m wondering if her hair is some kind of indicator.”

“Of what?”

“That she’s turning into a supervillain?” I described for him the full-frontal horror of walking in on Natalie and Angus in flagrante delicto. Or derelicto in their case.

Jake, far from seeing the gravity of the situation, snorted. “I knew that was going to happen.”