Back in the Saddle (Jessica Brodie Diaries #1)(69)

I turned, planning to leave my purse behind and come back later.

“Jessica, dear, come in,” Gladis called.

Damn her!

Tom Davies, a woman his age that I assumed was Denise Davies, and William turned around to regard me.

I peeked around Tom to catch Gladis looking stone faced. My eyes pleaded, looking for an excuse. I got nothing.

“Sure,” I said quietly, looking at the floor as long as I could.

“This is Jessica,” Gladis said to the room, not waiting for me to get to the far side of her bed.

I turned and faced the onlookers, courage barely keeping my back straight. The only one I didn’t know was William’s mother. She was shorter than me with elegantly highlighted hair. How is hair elegant? With a ton of money, that’s how. It had about four tones of dark blond all mixed together in symmetry. No roots, either. She probably kept it up constantly with hair appointments every six weeks.

Her large string of pearls set off her sophisticated outfit. She had William’s way of carrying herself, or I should say he inherited hers—all confidence, but with an ease to her that didn’t shout ego. She was the model of grace. Oh yeah, and she had a giant diamond on her finger. Tom's fellow owner of the world.

“Jessica, I believe you know Tom,” Gladis said.

“Hi again!” I said delightedly.

He smiled and nodded his head in return.

“This is Tom’s wife, Denise,” Gladis continued.

“Hello Mrs. Davies. Pleased to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure,” she replied with an easy smile.

It was then that I noticed her bag. It was a Louis Vuitton that I hadn’t seen before, and I was up on all the latest. It was the cutest bag ever! Mid-sized bowling ball style, fairly simple, black with the classic LV’s etched.

“Oh my God,” I exclaimed. “I love that bag! That must be new to the shelves, if you didn’t get it before release. I haven’t seen it yet.”

She looked down at her bag and up at me with interest. “Why yes, actually. I just got it today. First release. Do you own Louis Vuitton?”

I smiled sheepishly. “I don’t, no. I have a friend that has a few. I tend to steer toward Prada or Gucci, but I still love to look for that great find.” I didn’t mention that I didn’t have Prada or Gucci bags, either, but someday I would love to.

“Oh.” She nodded politely.

And now I see where William got his standards. Well, phooey.

“And Willie,” Gladis finished.

Do or die time. Without skipping a beat, I let my eyes slid left. My heart slid down to my stomach. I stopped myself from gulping.

He was just as handsome as I remembered. His hair was a little shorter, he was a little tanner, his muscles looked a little bigger, but the same clear blue, Caribbean eyes that could reach out and shake my hand on their own. Butterflies filled my stomach and my groin started throbbing. Cupid was raging war on the Kung Fu master. My heart was shoved into my feet to make room.

Lump always talked about muscle memory. Doing something over and over again until your body did it on its own with little prompting or thinking. I wasn’t sure if there was such a thing as emotion memory, but if there was, I was now experiencing it.

It seemed like a few days ago that I danced with him, felt him against me. It could’ve been last night that he held me close after the Dusty thing, promising safety with the warmth of his body. No time since he reached out to wipe away a tear rolling down my cheek.

“Hello again, William. It is nice to see you,” I said pleasantly, hoping to hide my misery. I was casual, I was unaffected, I was staying strong. Nothing to it.

I was an exceptional actor.

“Hi Jessica. It's been a long time.” His voice was just as deep and smooth as I remembered. His distance was just as great.

Would it be weird of me to start crying?

I went to stand on the other side of Gladis’s bed, partially to hide my visuals for two seconds while the pain left my face and settled into my body, and partially to put some space between myself and the Golden God, now as radiant as ever. I wondered if he was still with that big boobed woman? Or maybe someone else?

Gladis and the Davies clan started talking pleasantries. I tried to pay attention. I did try. Instead, I pulled the trick you master in school where you look interested and follow the conversation with your eyes, but your brain is at least a thousand miles from your body.

The hurt from what he said to me on the dance floor, and seeing him leave with Booby McGee, was so fresh it was like the knife was still twisting in my gut. If I concentrated hard enough I could hear the blade scraping against my rib bone. It was a disgusting sound.

Every time I tried to clear my head and focus on my surroundings his scent would waft by and physical pain would manifest. My whole body was both fluttering and tingling with electricity. I felt the hurt mixed with the elation of seeing him again, mixed with the desperation to touch him, mixed with the primal urge to flee from the pain.

It was then that I realized the room had gone quiet and everyone was looking at me. Looking to Gladis for a cue, I followed her gaze to Tom. Who must have just asked me a question, being that his eyebrows were raised quizzically.

I smiled bashfully. “I’m sorry, Tom. My thoughts trailed away to other matters.”

He smiled with knowing. “I was just asking how it is going at work?”