The Long Way Home (18 page)

Daniela smiled like she was my mother. She latched onto
France's arm, "See you in a few hours." They left the room, but as I
closed the door, I caught something on France's face, a look of confusion. I
shook my head, closing the door and leaning against the back of it with a sigh.

I crawled into the bed and closed my eyes before the tears
got out.

The knock at the door woke me. I had drooled all over myself
in what I would forever call ‘the greatest nap ever’. Groggily, I stretched and
climbed off the bed. When I answered, I was stunned. France was standing at the
door with bags from what looked like boutiques. I frowned, fighting the
heartache, "What are you doing?"

He held his arms out, "I phoned the hotel we stayed in
and got them to tell me the stuff you ordered."

I shook my head, "What? What hotel?"

"The one where you hired the private shopper."

The one where he made me orgasm over and
over—right.
How had I forgotten that hotel? How had he remembered so well?

I blushed, thinking about it. He smiled, "Yeah, that
hotel." He looked funny, off a little. Like he was unsure how to be around
me.

I laughed and opened the door for him. He walked in and
placed the bags on the bed, His eyes darted to my bag. "So, uh…
seven?"

I rubbed my eyes and climbed back onto the bed, pushing the
bags over. "Yeah, sure."

I pulled the blankets up. He got up and walked to the far
side of the room, "You have a good flight?" It was weird the way he
said it.

I sighed, "Whatever you're avoiding asking me, just do
it. I'm beat and we don’t do small talk."

He looked like he might say something but he stopped himself
short and shook his head. He looked a bit lost as he walked back over to the
door, "I need to go do something. I'll see you at dinner."

“Whatever.” I waved and pulled the covers up over my face,
"Night."

I closed my eyes and let the sleep claim me again. I woke to
the alarm that I should have woken to an hour earlier. It was
six,
I had an hour to be hot. I dumped the bags on the bed
and grabbed the shampoo and conditioner and frizz control he bought me. I
stumbled into the bathroom and started the process of not looking like I was no
longer caring about my looks.

The hot water was amazing and the idea of being in a hotel
with France made me think about the last shower we had taken. I blushed,
smiling and scrubbing.

I got out, dialed Brandi and started changing into the sexy
underwear and bra he'd bought me. It was stunning and not the same as I had
ordered last time.

"Hello?"

I spoke softly, "He has a girlfriend. An Italian-model
girlfriend."

Brandi sighed, "I know. Will told me when I met up with
him the other day. They're engaged, J.D. You need to home wreck on his ass and
get this to end. Will thinks she's looking for a green card, rich-husband combo
and Mike is so desperate to get over you that he's making this mistake."

My mouth was dry. I grabbed a bottle of the Swiss mineral
water and guzzled it. I coughed, "You sent me here, knowing he was
engaged? Do you hate me, Bran?"

"Baby, I know you and him are meant to be. You need to
tell him how you feel and don’t do your prim and proper bullshit. Belt it
out."

I nodded, feeling faint. "Okay. I hate you though.
You and Will.
You're dead to me."

She chuckled, "That’s fine. Call me later."

I shuddered. He was engaged—already? It had been six
months since he asked me to run away with him. Asshole. I felt a bitterness
creeping up inside of me. Not a jealous bitterness but
an 'I
want him jealous' bitterness. Fucker.

I pulled on the dress that he bought me, hiking it up a bit
and adding the padding back into the push-up bra. I slid my feet into the
patent-leather
, black Versace pumps. My hair was in its
natural state of curls, around my shoulders. The black dress was sexy with the
harsh push-up of the bra. I looked classically beautiful. Not Italian-model
beautiful, but I wasn’t going to beat myself up over that. She had to have
flaws too.

God was fair.

I lined my eye makeup on a little heavy and smoky,
then
ran anti-frizz product through my hair. I sprayed a
touch of perfume and gave myself a final look.

It was good. He had done very well.

My lips were
red,
nothing beat a
strawberry-blonde with red lipstick. Not even an Italian model.

I left the room and made my way downstairs to the dining
room. The
maitre
d’ brought me to my table. They
weren’t there yet.

I sat and waited, perusing the wine list.

I smiled when I saw one of my favorites.

"Can I get you a drink to start?"

I made a face, "It's going to seem presumptuous of me to
order wine for the table, but I must have a bottle of the pinot noir.
It was made by a vineyard in the Alto Adige region
. I had
tasted it when I had gone for the sommelier tasting. The region was well known
for its pinot noir grapes. It had a history of thousands of years of winemaking
and grape growing. I had found it fascinating.

The server grinned, "The lady knows her wine."

I smiled, "I do. I love wine. I actually spent a little
time in Alto Adige, in Tirol and a few other places."

He looked taken aback, "Wow. That is impressive. The
area is so rich with wine."

I nodded, "It flows everywhere."

He smiled, "I will be back with your wine."

I sat there alone until he came back with the bottle. He poured
my taster. I smelled and drank, swishing it about in my mouth, and letting it
get air in my mouth as I swallowed. I nodded, "Perfect."

He poured me a full glass and looked around the room,
"Are you dining alone?"

I shook my head, "I'm not supposed to be."

He frowned, "Who are you waiting for?"

"Mike France."

He scowled, "Of course. Some of the others he plays
with, the other foreigners are at that table there."

I laughed, "You don’t like Mike?"

He looked around discretely, "I am a huge fan of his. That
woman, Ms.
Ribissi
is another story."

"Excellent. I think you and I will be great friends. Can
I tell you a secret?"

His dark eyes lit up, "Of course."

"I'm here to ruin their engagement."

His face glowed, "Oh, what a wonderful thing. You are
here to save him from that money-grabbing man-eater?"

I took a drink of my wine, "No. I want him for
myself."

"This bottle is on the house. You dine for free. Wait
until I tell the others, there is hope for him. We assumed it was the hits to
the head that have made him stupid."

I laughed and drank another big gulp. I wasn’t savoring my
wine. I was chugging it. I needed liquid courage.

"My name is Romeo, and if you need anything at all while
you are here, you tell me."

I looked around, "I don’t think they're coming. Can you
introduce me to the other hockey players?"

He clapped his hands, "Wonderful idea." He grabbed
my bottle and glass and carried them over to their table in the corner. Six
beefy guys sat there. They didn’t all look like hockey players, well, maybe one
didn’t.

"May I introduce, Miss Jacqueline
Croix.
She is a friend to Mr. France. He has been delayed and she is dining alone
tonight."

Their faces lit up. One guy smiled, "Come sit with us,
sweetheart."  He sounded like he was from Texas maybe.

Another guy with a German accent shoved his chair over,
"Sit next to me."

I smiled, "Thank you. I didn’t want to sit alone."
Actually, I wanted France to come in and see me with everyone else, let him be
the awkward one.
He and the model.

I sat, nestled into the small group.

"This is Bill from Vermont, Sal from Germany, Luce from
Israel, Daniel from Sweden, Arthur from Ireland, and I am Tex, from
Texas."

I waved, "Jack or J.D."

Tex gave me a squeeze, not realizing I hated being touched by
other people. "J.D., now that’s my kind of girl."

I laughed and let him keep his arm wrapped around me. I hoped
that France would walk in, accidentally seeing me with another man touching me.

Of course he didn’t.

We started drinking.

"So Jack, where are you from?"

I looked at the eager faces of the men, "New York."

"Did he just call you Jack?"

I turned around to see France standing behind us, alone.

I nodded, "Yeah."

He shook his head, "Her name is J.D. or Jacqueline. No
one calls her Jack, okay?"

They all stopped for a second and then instantly started
laughing. His face got red.

I looked around at the laughing men. Arthur from Ireland
nodded, "You're that Jack. Shit, I thought you were bisexual,
France."

Mike's face got even worse. He put a hand out for me,
"Can I talk to you?"

I shook my head, "Where's Daniela?"

"Upstairs."

"Is she coming down?"

He shook his head, "No. Can you guys excuse us?" He
tossed down a hundred-dollar bill. I grimaced, "That’s not enough for the
bottle."

He pulled me from my chair, "Tex, you got the rest of
that bill?"

"Yup."

France dragged me out of the dining room. I pulled my arm
from his grip, "What are you doing?"

He paced for a minute and then pulled me down the hall to the
elevator. He pressed the button, "Why did you come here?"

The elevator arrived, but before I could answer, he pushed me
inside and against the wall. His face was savage as he reached inside of his
pocket, ripping the pink bachelorette sash from his pants. I frowned for a
second, "Did you go through my bag?"

He held it in my face, "How did you get this?"

I shoved him
back,
"I went to
Empire State Building that night, you meathead. I went to the train station,
your apartment, your house in Jersey, my house, the coffee house we once
accidentally made out in, and then it dawned on me. The Empire State Building.
Of course.
The place that would show me you loved me, more
than anything in the whole world. I paid the sax player two thousand dollars
for it."

He clenched his jaw, "Why?"

I shoved him again, "Because I wanted your fucking
signature. Why do you think?"

He pounded the wall of the elevator, "Why are you doing
this to me?"

I jumped, feeling my lip quiver. He was angry in a way I had
never seen before. He closed his eyes, "Why did you come here?
Because I finally met someone?
Because I was finally
happy?"

I felt my nostrils flare, "Firstly, you've known her
like a week.
Finally happy—my ass.
You are
rebounding on that poor girl. Secondly, you really believe that I would come
here just to sabotage your engagement? How was I supposed to know you were
engaged, dick?"

He flung the pink sash at me, "That is a low blow and
you know it. Just tell me how you got it. Who did you pay off? Did
Will
tell you where I left it? Did he go back and get it and
give it to you?"

I pushed the main floor button; the door opened. I realized
then, we had not actually moved. I stormed from the elevator and looked back at
him, "I went to the Empire State Building, looking for you.
Same as today.
I came looking for you. I flew across the
fucking ocean. I wanted to tell you that you were right. You were right all
along. You and I love each other and no one is ever going to love us the same
way. So fuck you." I flung the sash back at him as the door closed. I
turned and stormed into the dining room and sat back in my chair.

The guys gave me a look, "You want some more wine,
J.D.?"

I nodded, "Call me Jack. I like Jack better
anyway."

The knock at the door woke me. My jet lag and wine hangover was
savaging my brain and body. I stumbled to the door. Daniela was bright-eyed and
bushy-tailed and at my door with a supermodel smile.

"Brunch?"

I squinted at her, "What time is it?"

"Eleven, silly. We are all meeting downstairs for
brunch. Mike didn’t want to wake you, but I figured you'd balance out faster if
you got up now."

I nodded, "Be down in ten." I closed the door and
prayed I had at least one cute brunch outfit.