Remember Jamie Baker (Jamie Baker #3)(44)

“That was interesting,” Major Wilks rasped as he hunched over and took a deep breath. “Is it always like that?”

I shrugged. “Teddy got used to it pretty quickly, and it just feels normal to me.”

Ryan stood and stretched. His face was a lot less green than the major’s. “It won’t take long. This run was already better than our run through the desert last night. I don’t even feel sick to my stomach. Just a little dizzy.”

“So what’s the plan?” I asked, not in the mood to waste any time.

Ryan pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call Carter, and then we can go from there.” He dialed a number, waited a moment, and then said, “Dave Carter, please. Well, interrupt him. Tell him he has an old friend waiting to see him outside, and that he has five minutes to get down here or we’ll take the story to Fox News.”

He hung up without saying anything else. “Fox News?” I asked. “You know we can’t take our story to anyone else.”

Ryan gave me a sheepish shrug. “I just wanted to make him hurry. He’s not my favorite person in the world. You’ll understand after you meet him.”

Major Wilks asked Ryan a question about Carter, and while they talked I took the opportunity to look around. I’d seen pictures of New York City before and watched a few movies that took place here, but seeing the city on television and being here in person were two entirely different things. New York is so vast it feels as if it’s swallowed you whole. Standing among all those skyscrapers made me feel like an ant at the feet of giants.

After spending the last six months completely alone in the middle of the open desert and my two-minute walk down the Las Vegas Strip, I think it’s safe to say I’m more of a small-town girl. Especially taking into account the sights and smells of the city wreaking havoc on my supersenses now. I pulled my notebook out of my purse and flipped to the section reserved for dislikes. Flying and large cities both made the list.

“Whatcha got there?” Ryan stepped up behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder. As he slipped his arms around my waist, he scanned the list of words in my notebook.

Could he go five minutes without touching me? I doubted it. “Ryan…”

Completely misinterpreting my warning, he gave me a squeeze and softly kissed my neck once. “Yeah, babe?”

I sighed. How could I ask him to back off when he made holding me seem so natural? “Never mind.” He was completely hopeless. “I call it my Me notebook. It’s everything I’ve learned about myself since my memory restarted.”

Intrigued, Ryan released me and plucked the book from my hands. He wandered back over to the bench Major Wilks was sitting on and flipped through the pages. “Sarcastic, volatile, not a morning person, emotional, impatient…” Ryan laughed and held out his hand to me. “Give me your pen.”

“Why? What are you going to write?”

“I could add a million things to this list, but for now I’d settle even one positive personality trait. You’re always so pessimistic.”

I snorted. “Pessimistic is not a positive trait.”

“Just give me your pen before I have to add stubborn.”

I smirked as I held out the pen. “That one’s already on there.”

“It’s worth repeating.”

Ryan snatched the pen and immediately started writing. When I tried to look, he turned away from me, shielding his answers. Deciding to let him have his fun, I left him to his task and went to sit on the edge of the fountain. At the bottom of the pool resting beneath the water was a mountain of coins. I was curious. Why would people throw money into a fountain? “What’s with all the loose change in the water?” I asked Major Wilks, who was finally feeling better and had come over to join me.

Major Wilks gave me a puzzled frown. “Amnesia,” I reminded him, feeling like a freak.

Comprehension struck and his frown morphed into a sympathetic smile. “It’s just a tradition. You’re supposed to make a wish, and when you throw your money into the fountain your wish will come true.”

It was a happy sentiment, but it made my heart sink. “If only things were that simple.”

“Nothing’s ever simple, Angel.” When I looked up, Major Wilks fished a coin from his pocket and placed it in my hand. “But even the most complicated things have a way of working themselves out—one way or another.”

My eyes drifted back to Ryan, who was still busily scribbling away, and I wondered if the major was right. Maybe I couldn’t have my memories back, but there were still plenty of things I could have. That would have to be enough. Closing my eyes, I wished for a miracle and flicked the dime into the fountain. It felt like a fool’s hope, but it was still hope, and I would hold to it.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

I whirled around to see a man shaking his head, staring at me with a stunned expression. Carter, the tabloid journalist turned serious reporter, looked to be in his forties and fit the picture I’d had in my mind perfectly. He was very average looking, with a few wrinkles in his skin and a hairline that was threatening to recede. He wasn’t overweight, but I doubted he could go very far on a treadmill.

The only really notable thing about him was the intelligence in his eyes. Teddy had that same look about him, and so did Blake. He was a bright man, this reporter who was supposed to be my friend. I hoped he could really be trusted. He met my gaze with an amused smile. “It’s been a while, Jamielynn.” His eyes scanned me from head to toe, stopping on the bruises ringing my neck. “You look like crap.”