Trusting Jack (26 page)

             
“Perfect.  When I’m done licking this bowl clean, I’m taking a hot shower and going to bed.  I’m beat.”

             
“I’ll be right behind you.”

             
Emma opted for a long, indulgent soak instead of the shower.  Sinking down into the steaming water, she let out a sigh of appreciation.  She’d just wallow a bit, she told herself, and reached for the face mask gel she’d sat on the side of the tub.             

While she waited for the mask to harden, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.  There was some truth in what Norah had said, she admitted to herself. 

She had believed Sarah but not completely, not

until she’d gone to Jack’s.  And she had acted like a

coward, hiding in the dressing room while everyone else

ate lunch.  Another thought crossed her mind.  If Jack

loved her, shouldn’t he have told her and not everyone

else?

              She was beginning to feel like an outsider, with everyone flocking to Jack’s side.

             
Well, she’d just have to deal, she thought as she leaned up to wash her face.

             
Emma lingered until the water began to cool.  She stood and quickly wrapped herself in a towel.  She scrubbed herself dry and smoothed lotion over her skin.  She donned a nightshirt and sat on the edge of the bed while she ran a brush through her hair.

             
And thought.

***

              “It’s all about her hatred for her husband, and her driving ambition for her son,” Norah told the press.  “I’m thrilled I get to portray such a vibrant, strong female from history.”

             
“Have you enjoyed working with Thomas Cullam, and the rest of the cast?”

             
“I have.  He’s fantastic, they’re fantastic.  The cast has gotten close; we’ve become almost like family.”

             
“Norah’s right,” Jack said into his microphone.  “It’s been a great film to work on.  I’ve enjoyed getting to know everyone.”

             
“Jack this is your first film.  Has it inspired you to do more?”

             
“I’m certainly willing to consider it.  It’s a very different experience from theater.”

             
“Rumor is you’re somewhat of a klutz, Norah.  Is that true?”

             
“It is,” Richard, who’d flown back for the conference, confirmed.  “Always tripping over her gowns, forever crashing into tables.”

             
“That period clothing is heavy,” Norah

defended herself as the journalists and camera crews laughed along with the cast.  “And hot.  I don’t see how women back then handled it.  Besides, I’m not the only one.  Roger ranks right up there with me.”

              “I do,” he agreed.  “I’ve the bruises to prove it.”

             
“Richard, we heard you took lessons so you could handle a sword better.”

             
Emma stood off to the side and watched with a smile on her face.  There was a family atmosphere on the set.  Current problems aside, she’d enjoyed the time spent here.

             
After another half hour of answering questions, the actors took their leave.  They made it to the quiet of the back room and stood talking for a few minutes.  Emma stood apart, talking on her phone to David.

             
Jack brushed by her without so much as a glance.  It stung a little, she realized, to think he had given up.

             
Jack kept walking.  It nearly killed him, but he managed not to look back, not to ask her one more time to believe.  He was hurting, too, he thought.  The woman he loved didn’t care enough to have faith in him.

Chapter 35

             
Emma decided to wander in and out of a few shops before heading to the market.  She’d been in a shoe store for several minutes, studying some gorgeous black boots—did she need another pair—when she felt someone watching her.

             
She turned her head and found Sarah’s deep brown eyes trained on her.  “Can I help you?” she asked with frozen politeness.

             
“I don’t know what the hell you did to trap him, but you can be sure I’ll make him mine again.”  Sarah kept her voice low, a small smile on her face.  To anyone glancing their way, they would look like friends having a pleasant chat.

             
There was nothing pleasant about the look in her eyes.

             
Lowering her voice to match Sarah’s, she replied, “Why do you insist on seeking me out and harassing me?”

             
“I just want you to know that I will win.  And when I do, he’ll forget you like the nobody you are.”

             
Emma studied her for a second, and then went with her sudden gut instinct.  “Is that why you staged your little show?  A pathetic attempt to win him back?” she asked.

             
“So you figured it out, did you?  No matter,” she said, malice dripping from every word.  “I’ll have my way in the end; I always do.” 

             
“You’re welcome to try.  It won’t work.  We’re happy and in love and you’re nothing but an annoyance.”

“Bitch,” Sarah snarled.  She inclined her head then breezed past Emma and out the door.

              Emma stared at her retreating back.  Her heart

began to pound as truth sank in.  She fumbled for her phone, dialed Jack’s number with trembling fingers. 

              It went to voicemail.  She disconnected.  She’d go to him, she decided, tell him in person.  Beg his forgiveness.

             
The cab took her to Jack’s door, but no one answered.  She gave her address and stared unseeing out the window.  The driver had to tell her twice that she was home.  Still distracted, she paid the fare and rushed inside.

             
Norah stepped out of the kitchen and took note of Emma’s flushed face and bright eyes.  “Where’s the fish?” she asked mildly.

             
Buoyancy took over.  Emma let out a delighted laugh and threw her arms around Norah.  “You were right, you were all right,” she told her.  “Jack didn’t sleep with her.”  She released her hold and pressed her hands to her heart.  “And I’m a fool and a coward and I love him so damn much.  I have to tell him!”

             
“You can’t.”

             
“What?”  She paused and gave Norah a searching look.

             
“Jack had to leave, go back to Germany.  Thomas decided he wanted to reshoot scenes, the ones where they discuss Philippa’s dowry I think, so they went after the press conference.”

             
Her face fell.  “No one told me.”

             
“We found out this morning.  Thomas told us, I think when you were on the phone with David.  And that means we’re not shooting here till they get back.”

             
Tears pricked hey eyelids.  “I really wanted to see him, to tell him.  To apologize.  I called, but got voicemail.”

             
“Oh.  He’s probably just busy.  I know Thomas wanted the reshoot done quickly.”

             
Emma nodded, defeated for the moment.  “When do you think they’ll be back?”

             
“Shouldn’t be more than two or three days.  What made you change your mind?”

             
“I saw Sarah.  Something she said made me wonder.  When I led her into thinking I knew, she let it slip.  My God!  I should have listened to Jack, to all of you!”  She unclipped her hair and ran frustrated fingers through it.

             
“When are you going to try calling again?”

             
“I’m not,” she decided.  “I want—I need—to tell him to his face.  I need to tell him I love him.”

             
“I’m glad it’s out, I’m glad you believe him.  But, Emma, he’s seemed so…cold…these past couple of days.  Do you think you can get him to listen?”

             
“I hope to God I can.”

             
She made her way upstairs.  Her mind was buzzing, racing with thoughts.  He’d been telling the truth!  He hadn’t cheated, he hadn’t tossed her aside.

             
She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry.

             
She shed her clothes, left them lying in the floor, and crawled into her nightshirt.  She pushed underneath the covers, her mind still doing circles.

             
She was beyond happy that he’d been true and beyond guilty for doubting him.  Could he forgive her for not believing in him?  Would he be angry that it took Sarah’s confession to persuade him?  Oh God, she’d made a mess to things.

             
Emma turned onto her side then flopped onto her back.  She had to talk to him; she didn’t know how she’d manage to wait.  She rubbed her hands over her face.  She’d never sleep tonight.

             
Everyone else had believed him, she thought.  Was she that fucked up that she couldn’t see what they could? 

             
As one hour slid into the next, all Emma could do was stare into the darkness and pray she could make it right.

Chapter 36

             
Emma got around to cooking Norah’s fish the next evening.  She’d been beside herself all day, her emotions all over the place.  She’d run the gauntlet from happy to sad, angry to scared, frustrated and back again.  She’d cleaned the entire house and made a frenzied trip to the market.

             
Norah had patiently rode the roller coaster with her and now sat at the table watching her cook.  She hoped to hell it would steady her a bit.

             
Emma scrubbed the potatoes, pierced them with a fork, and rolled them in a plate of coarse sea salt before wrapping them in foil.

             
“What’s that for?” Norah wanted to know.

             
“The salt gives the skin a nice crust, and some of the flavor gets inside so you get a better taste,” she explained as she slid them into the waiting oven.  “I printed out the email confirming more delays on
Jilted
.  David’s thinking it might get shelved indefinitely.”

             
“Hmm.”  Norah plucked an olive from the bowl in front of her and popped it into her mouth.  “I’ve decided to take a break if that happens.”

             
“What?”  Emma put down her knife, clutched at her heart and pretended to stagger.  “You?  A break?”

             
“Cut it out,” Norah snickered.  “I take breaks.  Maybe not a lot,” she admitted.  “I’ve worked pretty steady for four years.  It’s time.”

             
“I agree with that.”

             
“I’ve also thought about slowing down, doing only one or two projects a year.”

             
“What?”  Incredulous, Emma stared.  “What’s wrong with you?”

             
“Nothing.  I’ve been thinking, though, that I’ve made my mark.  I’ve made my money.  I’m not going to quit; I’m just going to slow down.”

             
“Oh.  Well, I can understand that.”  She finished mincing the shallot and added it to the bowl before reaching for a bottle of honey.

             
“What are you doing now?”

             
“Making a honey mustard glaze for the salmon.”

             
“If it’s honey mustard, why did you put onion in it?”

             
“It’s not onion, it’s shallot.  A milder flavor.”  Emma’s eyes flicked to Norah’s as she began whisking.  “Do you want cooking lessons?”