Dancing Barefoot (6 page)

"I didn'
t intend on that. I should go," he said.

“Stay.
Don't go.” 

She wanted to scream, stomp her foot like a child, fall to her knees …anything to make him stay.

“There is someone else, Jess. Life moved on without you, things happened.” His quiet words sliced her heart into a million pieces. “I came here for answers, to understand. I didn't intend to rip your clothes off. I only wanted to understand why you left me. That’s all.”

“And now you understand?”

“No.” He shook his head, a slight grin curving his lips. “But I accept that I will never understand.”

She rubbed the p
alm of her hand over her face. Of course he had someone else. She had discarded him like a used napkin.

“
You're serious with this woman? What you said about the different women all the time was just to hurt me, right?”

“Yes to both questions.”

A chasm ripped through the room, creating a space larger than the ocean that had once separated them. She felt the loss of him again, more powerful, more poignant than before.

“I wish it wasn’t like this between us…”

“I’m still the same man you left in Italy. The reasons you left haven’t changed.  I’m a gypsy at heart, never in one place longer than six months or so.” He looked at the matching ring on his finger and blew out a long breath.

"You don't know my reasons, you only think you do. I went back..." Warm tears fell despite her resolve not to cry.

"I can't believe you went back." He shook his head. "You have no idea how that would have changed things. It's too late now. All of this has been a horrible mistake."

She winced at that and gripped the blanket tighter around her body.
“Please leave. Your girlfriend must be wondering what the hell you’re doing.” She hugged her arms across her chest and tapped her foot against the floor. “Please leave, Jacques.”

“Are you happy?
Tell me that you love being an architect. Tell me that you don’t love me anymore, that you are content.” With every word, his face mirrored the agony she felt. “Tell me that you have no regrets, that you are happy with your life as it is now.”

“My life is damn near
perfect.” She forced a smile. “Partnership is in sight, remember? Corner office here I come. I have everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s a fucking love fest.”

“It is
time I let this go then.” With a quick movement, he pulled the ring from his finger and laid it on the back of the red chair.

She stared at the ring against the
faded fabric. “Please don’t leave it. Like you said, it’s yours.”

“Keep it, throw it away, it no longer matters to me. Be well,
bella
.” Door open, he hesitated at the threshold and looked around the room before meeting her gaze again. 

Bella.  The word hung in the air as they stared at one another, the language of Italy dancing in her memory and tugging at her heart.

“
Caro
…” she whispered.  

Without another look back, he closed the door behind him.

She listened to the fall of his footsteps on the stairs, the outside door opening and closing, and folded his ring into her palm. She pressed the closed fist against lips still swollen from his kiss. Silent tears streaked her face.

"What have I done?" Back against the door, she slid to the floor. The question she asked had no answer. Even she didn't know if sh
e meant the past or the present; conflicting emotions meshed together in her brain like the various paint streaks staining her skin.

*
* *

Chapter Four

He stared unseeing at the map of South America spread against the table.  Carter and Kevin talked logistics, but he could care less about the details for the upcoming trip. Sighing, he twisted a rubber band around his wrist—a poor substitute for a cigarette.

Thunder rolled through the sky. He flicked
his gaze toward the floor-to-ceiling windows of Carter’s loft. He wanted it to rain, felt it would complement his mood. 

“I should go,” he said more to himself than his friends.

“Yes, we should leave,” Simone said from where she lounged on the sofa.  “You promised me dinner before my flight,
bebe
.”

He nodd
ed at his girlfriend, Simone—all legs, leather and red hair. A model, she traveled almost as often as he did, which perfectly suited him. Off to shoot the finale of the television show, International Super Model, that she hosted, Simone Belefonte knew how to deliver drama—which is why he kept her as mellow as possible.

“Oh, Simone, I forgot to mention somet
hing,” Kevin said with a grin. “We ran into Jessica Moriarty while we were in Boston. Sounds like one interesting apartment building you all lived in over there. Models, photographers, artists…must have been fun.”

If he had ever felt homicidal, it was now. “Didn’t I fire you yesterday?”

“You must have been too distracted with the brunette and your reunion.”  Kevin’s grin transformed to a wide smile. 

“Jessica Moriarty?” Simone’s brown eyes narrowed at him. 

“Why don’t we all go out for dinner before your flight, Simone?” Carter suggested as if oblivious to the sudden tension in the room. “There’s a new Thai place around the corner I have been wanting to check out. I've been meaning to ask you about that other judge on the show, Lily. Would she be interested in going out with a handsome and brilliant documentary filmmaker? We could—”


“Shut it, Carter.”
She stood, hands on hips and cast her gaze around the room. “We aren’t going anywhere until I know what happened with that bitch.” 

“She bought my book.”
He snapped the rubber band against his wrist. “Let’s eat.”

“That is all you have
to say? Let’s eat?” She sauntered to him and stopped when they were nose-to-nose. “She is the reason you didn’t come back to New York until this morning? You were with her? And this is a coincidence?” 

"
Now you sound like Jacques." Kevin stretched his arms over his head and grinned. "Conspiracy theories and drama, you two really need to relax."

"You relax, you pitiful excuse for a man," she hissed between clenched teeth, her gaze sliding toward Kevin before flicking b
ack toward Jacques. "Answer me."

Jacques
sighed and scrutinized the woman Jessica had hated in Italy. Stunning rather than beautiful, Simone exuded attitude even in her sleep.

“Thai then?”
Carter stepped next to him, an easy going smile on his face as he ignored the tension. "Jessica, huh? How's she doing? I miss her. Remember that time we all rode down—"

"We will not be reminiscing." Simone cut him off with a finger to his face
.

“Were y
ou all roommates or something? I still don’t get the dynamic here,” Kevin rambled, walking up to them with an exaggerated look of confusion in his eyes. 

“The dynamic?” Simone faced him. “I hated her and she hated me.
She let Jacques go. Now he is mine. You are such a stupid man.”

“
Like I said, the Thai place is just down the street.” Carter pushed open the door of his loft and held it ajar. “We should go.”

Kevin ref
used to look away from Simone. “Talk about chemistry. It was snap, crackle, pop all over that bookstore.”

“
Why are you doing this to me?” Jacques grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him into the hallway. “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you want me to kill you? Is that it?”

“Simon
e is poison,” Kevin whispered. “You know it, you’ve said it yourself.  Maybe you would be better off with—”

“With who?”

“Okay, you two, we’re going to a jungle in a few months. Save the survival of the fittest act for then, okay?” Carter guided Simone from the loft and slammed the door closed behind him. 

She
slipped free of Carter and wrapped her arms around Jacques. From warrior to seductress in three simple strides. “You came home to me, that is what matters, yes? You made your choice, didn't you?" She smoothed her palms across his shoulders. "I'm not jealous, why would I be? I understand. I trust you.”

“It’s like watching a python eat its prey one gulp at a time.” Kevin stepped away from them. “I quit.”

“Don't call for a reference.”

“I won’t.”  Kevin yelled without looking back.

Jacques shrugged off the tension he had been feeling since arriving back in New York. Without another word, the trio walked to the street and around the block to the Thai restaurant. 

A couple in the
corner captured his attention. Their laughter, the way they touched across the table, the look in their eyes, and the intimacy without boundaries. Food came and went without him realizing it.

“I still
don't understand why you need to go to a jungle to do a story on lost tribes. Aren’t there tribes in more civilized places?” Simone asked Carter who stared at her over his beer.

“
It's the Amazon, Simone. We are canoeing deep up river, going places where most people never get to see...” Carter continued his passionate response but Jacques no longer heard him. 

He leaned back in his chair and stared
at the couple across the room. Mid-twenties. Idealistic. Foolish. 

Snap, snap went the rubber band against his wrist.
He tapped his booted heel against the floor.

“
You're too quiet.” Simone squeezed his thigh. “If you're worried over Kevin, you should call him. You know he did not really quit.”

“I know.” Maybe Simone wasn’t perfect—hell, he knew he didn’t love her and never would—but she
accepted him as he was. “Do you need to pick up your things before the flight?”

“Chloe is meeting me, she has my luggage.”
She covered his hand with hers.  “You should come with me. We could stay after the shoot, have some alone time. It is the finale. I have nothing planned afterward.”

“I have the showing next week in Boston,
and have the details for Amazon trip to arrange.” Dread consumed him at the thought of returning to Boston.

“Are you sure nothing happened that I need to know?” Alert eyes scanned his face. 

“Nothing happened that you need to know.” He
recalled how he'd ripped Jessica's tank top into pieces and fucked her on the floor. He squirmed in his seat. 

“Good. I need to g
o.” Simone kissed him lightly. “You stay. I think you and Carter need to talk.”

Once
she was gone, Carter laughed. “One minute she wants to kill us all and the next she is…almost sensitive.”

“Almost.”

“I think you should call her.”

“She just left.” He
smiled and looked over his shoulder to where Simone exited through the door.  “I don’t miss her yet.”

“I’m talking about Jessica.”

“Why? We aren’t exactly friendly.”

“No?
Kevin told me you went to her apartment last night. Today you aren’t wearing your ring.” Carter shrugged. He had been in Italy with them for a short time, had crashed on their sofa and shared stories well into the night.

“She’s an architect, can you believe it?” He looked away from the knowing in his friend’s eyes. 

“Oh, my God, not an architect. The whore.” Carter rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “No wonder you hate her.”

“I never said I hated her.”

“No, you never have said that, have you? Interesting. I have no trouble hating the women who dumped me.” He held up his fingers and began counting. “Now that I think about it, that's a lot of women I never want to see again.”

"She claims she went back." He shoved his hand through his hair and closed his eyes. "She must be lying."

"So she didn't dump you, is that what you're trying to say? Is that why she left everything—"

"She vanished." He dropped his fist onto the table, opened his eyes and stared at his friend. "For three weeks I looked for her like a fool, no idea where she had gone or what had happened, only to find out from a detective that she had boarded a plane and left me. What was I supposed to think? She left."

"So this entire break up is the result of a miscommunication?" Carter frowned and shook his head. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I."

"Why didn't you ask her for more details? Oh, let me guess...you were being dramatic again and stormed off without getting the full story."

"Why does everyone say I am dramatic? I am the calmest person I know." Snap, snap went the
rubber band. Screw quitting. He needed a cigarette.

"Doesn't the fact that she went back mean something to you?"

"Meaningless." It pissed him off, that's what that piece of information did for him. What had she expected him to do? Wait forever after finding out that she'd flown back to the United States? How could he have known she would return?

Trust, that was the bottom line. Neither had had enough trust to believe in the other. They're relationship had been built on sex and laughter and nothing more.

"You two were good together, Jacques. I liked her a lot." Sadness clouded Carter's eyes when he looked up from his beer. "I think you need to let her explain."

"Forget I said anything. Life is good for us all, yes? It is pointless to look back."

"That must be why she's the starring attraction of both your book and your exhibit...no looking back for you, right?"

“I need to go.”
He tossed money onto the table and patted his friend’s back. “I need to walk.”

Thunder echoed through the streets of
Tribeca, drowning out all other noise.  A gust of wind whipped through the artificial valley. Rain pelted his face.

He never should have given up the ring. It had been a piece of their puzzle, a symbol of what
they'd shared, even if the outcome had been less than what he had expected. He had lost it once, had fought to get it back. He shook off the memory of that awful time following Italy. He'd lost more than the ring then...he'd lost a part of his soul he would never get back. What would Jessica think of him if she knew how far he'd fallen after she had gone?

Rain soaked through his shirt to his skin. He blinked through the haze
toward his apartment building. It wasn’t much. A stopping place, really. He didn’t need a home. He was a gypsy, a wanderer who felt at home only on the road, in a foreign land, with nothing but his backpack and a friend.

Once inside, he walked the two flights to his apartment. He dropped his head against the door and closed his eyes.

Jessica wasn’t the liar. He was. He missed the apartment in Florence more than he could admit. He missed the way it had smelled, especially after a good rain like this. The air would fill up with aroma, flowers and food. Jessica would leave the windows open, it had always been too hot for her. God, how he missed it.

“
Jacques? Are you all right?” Ava, his older sister, stood on the stairs behind him. Dressed all in black with her blonde hair twisted into a loose knot at her neck, she looked the part of up and coming fashion designer. She leaned her shoulder against the wall and squinted at him. "You're soaking wet, couldn't you find a taxi?"

“I
walked.” He didn’t want visitors. He needed solitude. 

“Without an umbrella, I see.”
She nodded at the door. “Let us in, please. I need to talk to you.”

“
You couldn’t call?” He unlocked the door and held it open for her. 

Without saying another word, he walked to his bedroom and changed cloth
es. As an afterthought, he rummaged through all of the drawers in his dresser looking for a lost cigarette. There had to be one somewhere. He moved to the kitchen where he dumped out the drawers until, at last, he found what he was looking for.

“I knew you wouldn’t quit,” Ava said without turning to look at him.

“Everyone knows me so well, don’t they?” He collapsed onto the curving leather sofa, the only piece of furniture in the room except for a flat screen television and a stereo, and stretched his legs out. Only after he had lit his cigarette and inhaled the sweetness, did he speak again. “What brings you to my neighborhood? I thought you were working in your studio all weekend.”

“Kevin tells me you saw Jessica yesterday,” she said. “Were you with her last night?”