Sing Me Back Home (12 page)

Jack only waited on Gina ten minutes. Almost a record. “I see you found your sweater.” He started the car and backed up. “Where was it?”

“Um, in my room.”

Buried under God knew how many dirty clothes, he bet. He was too tired to say anything, so he let it pass.

It was a good game. Close, and their team, the Grizzlies, were ahead at halftime and they looked like they might hang on to win. He’d discovered he was hungry after all, so he went to the concession stand at halftime, like everyone else in the stadium.

Everyone, including Maya.

‡

M
aya had gone
to buy candy during halftime. Candy was a crutch, she admitted, but she only allowed herself to have it for certain very good reasons. Heartache made the top five. Maybe it was because she was thinking about him, wondering if he was at the game that she knew who had walked up behind her, before she turned around. Of course, it was Jack. Who else would it be among the hundreds of people attending the game? She turned around, smiled at him and said, “Hi.”

He looked surprised, then relieved. “Hi.” He hesitated then added, “How are you?”

“Good.”
I’ve been a lot better
, she thought. “How about you?” How about
that
for inane conversation?

“Good.” He cleared his throat and repeated, “Good.”

It was small of her, but it made her happy to see him so uncomfortable. She launched into her plan. Clearly, waiting for Jack to make a move wasn’t working, so she’d decided to prod him a little. “I wanted to tell you, I’m not angry anymore.”

“You’re not?” He didn’t look as if he believed her. “So . . . we’re okay?”

No, you idiot, we’re not okay
. Fortunately, she had to tell the person behind the counter of the concession stand what she wanted. It gave her time to remember her plan. Kicking him wasn’t included in it. Darn it. Maya took her drink and M&Ms—she deserved chocolate, lots of chocolate, after this encounter—and waited for him to place his order and receive it. They walked away together and when she judged there wasn’t anyone too close by, she said, “Of course we’re okay.”

In the process of opening his candy bar, he shot her a sharp glance. “You still want to talk, don’t you?” He took a big bite of his candy, irritation written all over his annoyingly handsome face.

“No. I changed my mind.”

His hand stopped halfway to his mouth and he stared at her for a moment. “You changed your mind.” It wasn’t a question. “I thought you were pissed because we weren’t talking and now you’re saying you’re fine with that. Why don’t I believe you?”

Maya shrugged. “I have no idea. Obviously, I misread the situation.” Jack was looking at her as if she had two heads. She began to cheer up.

“What does that mean?”

She hadn’t opened her M&Ms yet, so she transferred the bag to the same hand holding her drink. Patting his arm, she said, “We had a fling. It was fun and now it’s over. No biggie. It’s time to move on.”

“But you said—”

She interrupted him, managing to give an amused chuckle. “Oh, Jack.” She shook her head in a pitying manner. “Haven’t you ever heard of heat of the moment? I got caught up in the”—she gave him a limpid look and finished—“passion. I didn’t
mean
it. It’s just something people say.” She lifted a shoulder and gave a tinkle of laughter. “I’m sure you know how it is.”

His eyes had narrowed and his jawline hardened. “No, I can’t say that I do. And I didn’t think you did either.”

“Come on, Jack. We’re both adults here.” Though she hadn’t relied on that person in years, she summoned up the woman, who could work underneath high power lights all day, change enough outfits to go through an entire wardrobe, and live through the chaos of fashion week, all without breaking a sweat. The woman who could smile through hunger, through her feet killing her, through aches and pains that wouldn’t quit, through heat, cold, illness and exhaustion. The woman who, whatever happened, smiled for the camera.

She regarded him with her most indulgent glance and laughed. A laugh that said, “You poor, deluded thing,” and she could tell he knew it. “I suppose I should tell you, I’ve been dating someone else.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You’re dating? We haven’t even broken up and you’re seeing someone else?”

“Did I misunderstand again?” she asked innocently. “I know we didn’t come right out and say it, but I thought after Monday night we were both on the same page. But then, I’m known to be stupid at times.”

“I didn’t call you stupid,” he ground out.

“Again, my mistake. But yes, I’ve been dating someone. I met him when I was in Los Angeles, but since you and I were still . . . involved I only talked to him briefly. He gave me his number and said to call him if anything changed. So that’s what I did. After you and I had our little spat and decided to call it quits, I called him and let him know I was free.” She stressed the word free, loving the incredulous expression on his face.

“
We
never decided to call it quits,” he said grimly.

“Of course we did. You made it clear you weren’t looking for anything complicated, or God forbid, permanent. Obviously, we broke up Monday night.” She could tell he was getting madder by the minute, but she was careful to keep her expression mild and clueless.

“And in the what, three days since, you’ve started dating another man.”

Maya looked at him blankly. “Yes. Why not?”

“Who is he? What’s his name?” he asked suspiciously.

She gave an airy wave of her hand—the one holding the M&Ms. “Rolf. Rolf Siegrist.” A name she’d conjured out of thin air. She uttered a happy sigh. “He flew out to see me that very day.”

“Do tell,” Jack said.

“Isn’t it funny how everything happens for a reason?” she asked him.

“Hilarious.”

*

Broken up my
ass
, Jack thought, watching Maya walk away. That was so not what he’d intended and Maya damn well knew it. Maybe she was right, though. Even though he didn’t believe for a minute she’d begun dating already, she seemed serious about the fact they’d broken up. If they had, Jack didn’t have to worry about dealing with messy emotions, conflicted feelings, guilt, or anything else. No, he could be alone the rest of his life, wondering why the hell he’d let Maya walk out of it.

She’d told him she loved him. And she’d meant it. He didn’t believe one word of what she had said just now. She wanted to stick it to him, and she’d figured out a great way to do it.

Face it
, he told himself. Maya might not be dating anyone right now, but she wouldn’t be alone for long.

His head hurt. It hurt because he couldn’t sleep, and he couldn’t sleep because he missed Maya, and he missed her like crazy, even though they’d only been together a couple of weeks, and every time he shut his eyes he realized what a fool he’d been, and if he could have reached it, he would have kicked himself in the ass.

And yet, something still held him back. Something stopped him from going to her, from groveling, from admitting he’d made a terrible mistake and he didn’t want to let her go. Was it pride? Maybe, but if so, that wasn’t the only reason.

Was he in love with Maya? Could he really have fallen in love with her—again—so quickly? Is that why he’d panicked when she said she loved him? He remembered how she’d looked. Naked. Beautiful. All that smooth, creamy, silky skin. Gray eyes, dark and slumberous. Her lips swollen from his kisses, her hair tousled from his hands. Her heart in those dark, passionate eyes.

Like hell it was heat of the moment
.

*

Saturday morning started
off badly and it only got worse. Maya had thought she would be able to sleep in that morning. Since she was short on sleep from her Jack Gallagher induced insomnia, she’d hoped to make up some of it by sleeping late. Instead Carmen—Carmen, the girl who never voluntarily woke before noon—woke her up at the crack of dawn, or what seemed like it anyway.

“Mom, why aren’t you awake? We need to leave in twenty minutes and I need you to help me. I can’t find my new jeans.”

Maya buried her head in her pillow. “Go ’way.”

Carmen plopped down beside her, making the mattress bounce with her enthusiasm. “C’mom, Mom. You’ve only got twenty minutes to get ready and it takes you that long to drink your coffee. We’re supposed to be at the gym at nine.”

Maya groaned, rolled over and cracked open her eyes. There sat her daughter all bright-eyed and annoyingly chipper. “Coffee,” she croaked. “I need coffee.”

Carmen ignored her desperate plea. “You didn’t forget did you? It’s the White Elephant drive.”

White Elephant? What in the world was Carmen talking about?

“You did forget,” she accused. “The Spirit Club, well, mostly their parents, are starting pick up this morning. You said you’d go with one of the drivers to pick up stuff and help sort it for us to sell or take to charity.”

Maya sat up and rubbed her eyes. “I did no such thing.”

“Sure you did. They asked for volunteers, and I said you would. We had the meeting the night you went out of town.” Carmen frowned. “I know I told you about it.”

“No,” she said grimly. “You did not.”

“Oh. Maybe I didn’t. But you have to go, Mom!”

Of course, I do
, she thought darkly. “Fine.” Maya threw back the covers and got out of bed. Fixing Carmen with the evil eye, she pointed her index finger at her and said, “Go make my coffee.”

“But—”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how. It’s time you learned. Six cups of water, five scoops of coffee. And find a to-go mug and pour some in there when it’s ready.”

She stumbled into the bathroom, knowing she barely had time to shower, much less wash her hair. In record time she’d showered and dressed, pulling on her oldest, most comfortable pair of jeans, running shoes, a white T-shirt, and a cream-colored loose knit cable sweater she loved, though she didn’t wear it often anymore, because it was almost as old as her jeans. She ran a brush through her hair and decided in favor of coffee over makeup. Driving around picking up other people’s junk did not, in her opinion, require makeup. The driver would have to take her as she was. They could call it a White Elephant sale all they wanted, but those ominous words “or give it to charity” sent a chill through her bones. She knew what they’d get. Anything and everything people wanted to get rid of. In other words, junk.

Minutes later, they were out the door, with Carmen still whining over her lost pair of jeans.

“If you’d clean up your room once in a while, you might be able to find things,” Maya snapped, her head aching from lack of caffeine.

“I
did
clean it up! I cleaned it up, like Monday.”

“Guess again.”

“Well, it was sometime not too long ago.” Carmen relapsed into injured silence, which was just fine with Maya.

She grabbed for the to-go mug and swore when the top came off. Carmen giggled, since she’d said a word she tried not to use around her daughter. Maya glared at her, daring her to say anything. After putting the top on firmly, she backed up and into the street. Sighing with relief, she downed a big gulp of coffee. And nearly gagged trying to swallow it.