From the Beginning (20 page)

It
was
what they’d talked about, when he had tried to arrange his schedule to spend as much time as possible with Amanda. Now that that option was off the table, he was almost desperate to get on location. Desperate to get away from the memories that seemed to haunt his every waking hour.

Still, he knew Mark had a family, unlike Simon and the other members of his crew, all of whom were young and anxious to see the world. “If you want to stay behind, I understand. I can call in a favor, get you assigned to someone local for a while. I’m sure the network would be okay with that.”

“I thought you’d already used up all your favors with that overnight plane ride to Somalia.”

Simon looked away. He so didn’t want to go there. “I’ve still got a few up my sleeves.”

Mark shook his head. “That’s all right. I don’t really want to work with anyone else.”

“Yeah, but if you need to be at home—”

“It’s fine. My wife knew what she was getting into when she signed on.”

Yeah, but knowing what to expect wasn’t the same as actually living it. Or at least, that seemed to be Amanda’s complaint from the other night. The same complaint she’d used when she broke their relationship off almost eight years earlier. She wasn’t willing to subject their daughter to his near-constant absences. He wondered if Mark was getting some variation of that talk at home these days.

“Look,” he said, trying to be as honest as he could without giving too much of his past away. He and Mark had been friends since he took this job, but that didn’t mean he wore his baggage on his sleeve for the world to see. “You’re a great cameraman, the best I’ve ever worked with. But your daughter is only going to be young once. You don’t want to miss it all. I’ll understand if you want to put in with a domestic crew, one that doesn’t travel as much.”

“I only have a few more years to do this before I promised my wife I’d give it up,” Mark told him firmly. “I’m not going to cheat myself out of the career I want, the career I can have, just because she wants me home more. We had an agreement. So, Yemen, here we come.”

He reached for his iced tea and took a long sip, making it clear that the conversation was over.

Simon let it go, and they spent the rest of lunch talking about the Yemen trip, other things going on at work and the Braves, who were having another crappy season. Yet even as he carried on his side of the conversation, Simon couldn’t help thinking about what Mark had said.

It was like listening to himself eight years ago, and he wondered if he had sounded as put-upon, as aggrieved, as
selfish,
as Mark. Or was that his guilt putting a different perspective on the way he saw things now?

They were getting up from the table to head back to work when he saw Amanda, or a woman he thought was her, crossing the lobby at a quick clip. Not even bothering to make excuses to Mark, he took off after her, desperate to reach her before she stepped onto the elevator.

Except, as he got closer, he realized she couldn’t be Amanda. This woman was wearing a flirty green dress and strappy, high-heeled sandals. She had an expensive haircut that showed only a hint of curl and glowed with vitality. He could see her only from the back as she waited for the elevator, but he must have been mistaken.

He was about to turn away when he caught her scent. Freesia. The fragrance went straight through him, had him hardening before he could even try to control his reaction to her. “Amanda?” It came out softer than he’d planned, but she must have heard him, because she glanced behind her with a questioning look.

One that turned into a genuine smile when she realized who it was. “Simon. What are you doing here?”

Waiting for a glimpse of you, like a lovesick idiot.
He almost spit out the words, but bit his tongue at the last second. At least he hadn’t lost all control of his vocal cords. “I was having lunch with a friend when I saw you walk by.” No need to tell her he’d left Mark at the restaurant with his mouth open.

“You look great.”

She flushed a little, as if she was embarrassed, and the color did amazing things for her face. It chased away the last of the shadows and made him remember, so clearly, the woman he had fallen in love with all those years before.

“Thanks. I’ve been…making an effort.”

“It’s paid off.”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid silently open. “Yeah, well. We’ll see.” She smiled at him again, then stepped into the empty car. “I guess I’ll see you.”

“Yeah, sure.” He wanted to stop the elevator, wanted to climb in beside her and make her talk to him. But she’d made her position clear and he was going to respect that. Even if it killed him.

The elevator doors slid shut, and he turned away and walked back to Mark. The look on his colleague’s face said he’d seen the whole thing.

“Old friend?” he asked.

“Something like that.” Simon kept his expression neutral, even as he called himself every name in the book. He’d been a total idiot to run after her like that. What had he been thinking? That she would actually want to talk to him? After she’d kicked him to the curb almost before he’d gotten his pants back on?

What a joke. He had to get some control over himself. Of course, he had learned something from seeing her again. Amanda wasn’t wasting away in her hotel room as he’d feared.

Mark was talking as they headed out onto the street, but Simon was too wrapped up in his own head to hear him, or much of anything else. It was obvious Amanda had moved on. Now he needed to do the—

“Simon! Simon!”

He kept walking, not even registering that someone was calling his name, until Mark grabbed his arm, stopping abruptly.

Ignoring the muttering of other pedestrians as they tried to get around him, Simon didn’t have eyes for anyone but the woman in the emerald dress racing toward him.

“I’ll meet you back at the office,” Mark said drily, and Simon nodded, because it was expected of him, not because his brain had managed to interpret anything the other man had said.

“I didn’t think I was going to get off that elevator in time. I swear, it hit every floor going down.” Amanda stopped breathlessly in front of him.

He looked at her in confusion. “Why are you talking about the elevator?”

She shook her head, eyes sparkling. “I have no idea.”

He waited, but she didn’t say anything else, just stared at him for long seconds. Finally, when he couldn’t take the silence any longer, he asked, “Did you want something?”

“Actually, yes. I know this is strange, since I’m the one who said goodbye, but I was wondering… I closed on a house today, over on Magnolia. Would you, maybe, like to come over for dinner and help me celebrate?”

He stared at her blankly as he tried to make sense of her words. “You bought a house? Here in Atlanta?”

She nodded. “I did. I know, it seems a little crazy, but I like this city. I can see myself trying to build a life here.”

“Do you have a job?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I’m trying to take things slow.”

“Yet you bought a house?” He knew he sounded incredulous, but he couldn’t help it. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the idea that Amanda was putting down roots in Atlanta. He’d lived here over a year and still hadn’t even thought about moving out of his utilitarian apartment.

Her smile dimmed and her eyes lost a little of their sparkle. “Never mind,” she told him. “It was a stupid idea—”

“No. I’d love to come.” He reached for her hand, squeezed it tightly. “You know me, I was being an ass. But I would really like to see your house.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She was smiling again, riffling through her purse until she came up with a pen and a scrap of paper. “Here’s the address. And my new cell number in case something blows up somewhere in the world and you have to cancel.”

He took the slip from her. “I won’t cancel.”

“Okay, then.” She nodded, looking suddenly nervous. It was a good look for her. “I guess I’ll see you around seven, then?”

“Seven, it is.”

“Right. Well, then—” She took a deep breath. “Bye.”

It was his turn to shake his head as he gently clasped her elbow, turning her around. “I’ll walk you back to the hotel.”

“You don’t have to do that. Really, I—”

He placed a finger over her mouth and her eyes went wide and smoky. “I’ll walk you back to the hotel,” he told her firmly, and this time she didn’t argue.

“So, tell me about the house,” he said.

She laughed. “It’s a wreck, kind of like me.”

“You’re not a wreck,” he said, running his eyes over her from top to toes.

“Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving. Anyway, I fell in love with the house at first sight, if you can believe it.”

Oh, he could believe it, all right. Twelve years wasn’t long enough to forget what that first strike of lightning felt like. He cleared his throat. “I look forward to seeing it.”

“Good.” She glanced up. “Well, here we are.”

“Yes. Here we are.” Jesus. He was repeating every word she said like a damn parrot. He stepped away, let his fingers drop from her elbow. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Then he turned and walked away before he could do something stupid, like bend her over backward and kiss her the way he’d been dying to since the moment she turned to face him at the elevators.

Yemen trip to prepare for or not, he suddenly had the feeling that it was going to be a long, long,
long
afternoon.

WHAT HAD SHE BEEN THINKING? Amanda asked herself for the thousandth time as she looked around her decrepit kitchen. She’d invited Simon over for dinner when the house was a disaster, she had no furniture, and she didn’t even have a kitchen to cook in. At least, not a functioning one. The remodeling company was due to come in tomorrow morning and start the process that would fix all that, but it definitely made it difficult to put dinner together tonight.

Oh, well, what was done was done. Out of desperation, she’d settled on picnic fare.

Not that this was any big deal, she reassured herself, as she spread out the quilt she’d bought that afternoon on the scarred wood of the dining-room floor. It was sunny-yellow, with twists of lavender and green, and it had made her happy to look at it. Which was why she’d ended up buying it—she’d wanted to start out her new life in this house with something sunny. Something that made her smile.

She also wanted to start out with something meaningful, which was why she’d chased Simon down that afternoon. Good or bad, their relationship carried more meaning for her than anything else.

That was why she’d invited him, she reassured herself as she went back into the kitchen and gathered up the things she’d bought for dinner. Not because she was stupid enough to think anything could come of this dinner. Not because she’d missed Simon these past few weeks, though she’d tried her best not to. And certainly not because she was planning on doing something so stupid as falling for him. That ship had sailed long ago, and she had no intention of ever making that mistake again.

And even if she’d been crazy enough to imagine that things might possibly work out between them, his reaction that afternoon, when she’d told him she’d bought a house, would have cured her of the insanity. If she hadn’t known Simon better, she probably would have been hurt by his reaction—he’d looked horrified at the idea of her living so close to him. But she did know him, certainly enough to understand that his horror wasn’t about her proximity, but about her rash decision to put down roots. For Simon, signing a six-month lease was a commitment of massive proportions. Buying a house—even one she’d paid cash for—was way beyond the limits of anything he could wrap his brain around.