Josh and Gemma Make a Baby(64)

I take a sip from my coffee to cover my frown. When I’ve swallowed I ask, “What do you mean?”

Ian looks around the elegant restaurant, at the tables nearby, but not too near, at the other guests, and then he leans forward and says in a quiet voice, “I’ve never told anyone outside of the start-up about this, but when we worked together, Josh stole my work. I had a book full of essays and quotes that I’d spent years working on. It was the concept I built Live Your Best Life Starting Now around. He found it in my desk and stole it. Attempted to make a business out of it. That break of trust nearly ruined me. It took years for me to recover from.”

I stare at Ian, at the hurt expression on his face and the betrayal I see written there. And I don’t know what to say. Josh…Josh did…

“Is that why he left the start-up?” My voice sounds funny to my ears. I clear my throat.

Ian nods. “After the theft was discovered, he left. Like I said before, he has a habit of disappointing people.”

“Oh. Right.” I take another sip of my coffee, but now instead of tasting sweet and like toasted nuts, it tastes bitter.

Was I wrong about Josh? Have I been wrong all this time?

What do I really know about him anyway?

I’ve been building him up in my head again, maybe even, if I admit it to myself, falling for him. But what for? If what Ian is saying is true, (and why would he lie?) then Josh isn’t the decent, stand-up guy I thought he was.

“I wondered what he was up to nowadays. If he ever got over it all. He was angry he got caught, but I say, let bygones be bygones. Let it go and live your best life.” Ian leans back in his chair and gives me a charming smile.

Josh has never said anything about Ian, but I’ve always gotten the feeling he isn’t his favorite person. Apparently, this is why. Maybe he’s just embarrassed he made a stupid mistake. After all, it was years ago that this happened.

I twist the napkin in my lap and smile back at Ian. “I wouldn’t know. Sorry.”

After dinner, we stroll down the quaint sidewalk. I’m feeling deflated, incredibly, horribly deflated. Not even the cute, brightly lit shops and Ian’s company can lift my spirits.

I’m only half listening to Ian as he’s talking about some big-name celebrity he knows that owns the house next to his when he cuts off and stops walking.

“Well, I’ll be,” he says.

I turn to look at what’s caught his attention.

And there, not twenty feet from us, walking down the sidewalk with a box of pizza in his hands, is Josh. He’s in scuffed jeans, an old winter coat, and sneakers, and if I didn’t know him I’d think he was the pizza delivery guy. He’s holding a cardboard pizza box in his arms and looking down at the sidewalk as he walks toward us. I hold my breath. I don’t want him to look up. I don’t want him to see me in my Audrey Hepburn-style dress holding Ian’s arm outside of an expensive la-di-da restaurant.

I really, really don’t want him to look up.

But of course, in life, things don’t always happen the way you want them to.

When he’s only a few feet away, Josh glances up from the snowy sidewalk. At first, I can tell, he doesn’t recognize us. He’s about to pass us by, like the strangers we could’ve been. That only lasts for a split second. As he’s passing he focuses on my face and suddenly, his eyes catch mine. And he realizes we aren’t strangers.

That it’s me.

With Ian.

At first Josh looks surprised and then maybe…uncomfortable? Upset?

He gives a hard swallow as he pauses in front of us. “Hey.”

My heart gives a hard thump.

I step away from Ian.

“Josh, hey. What’re you doing out here?” I give a bright smile, because the amount of tension that just sprang up around us is intense.

For a second, I don’t think he’s going to respond, but then he shakes himself and his old life’s-my-playground smile lights up his face.

“Hey, Gem. Ian. I’m just…”—he holds up the box of pizza—“getting some dinner. You know me and pizza.”

Oh.

Oh Josh.

Anyone else would’ve been fooled. I’m sure of it. I would’ve been fooled a month ago. Josh looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world, like life’s a lark and it’s no big deal running into me and Ian in our Valentine’s Day finest.

Ian chuckles, “Right. You never did appreciate the finer things.” He looks over at me and smiles, and I think, I think he’s talking about me. But that doesn’t actually make any sense.

Looking at Josh, I feel like the lowest, the jerkiest, the crappiest person.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask again.

Josh looks past us, like he wishes he were anywhere but standing outside a five-star restaurant holding a cardboard box of pizza. He turns back to me and gives me a light smile, “I thought I’d bring my dad out to see the beach. He was talking about how much he missed it. We used to come out here when I was a kid.”

Oh.

Oh no.

I almost can’t hold Josh’s gaze, because when I look beyond his smile, I can see that drawing of his dad, the one where Josh is telling you with pencil and ink that his dad is dying. And I can hear him say, “when he’s gone, no one will remember my first steps, my first drawings, and no one alive will mourn him like I do. I’ll be alone.”