A Sip of You(38)

I looked through the glass of the coffee house window and saw Jeremy heading my way, cups of coffee in both hands. I can handle this, I told myself. My relationship with Jeremy might be weighted down by a ton of baggage—by things I wasn’t proud of—but if I steered us clear of difficult topics, we could both get through this. Maybe it would even be pleasant.

“Latte,” Jeremy said, handing me a cup and taking the chair opposite mine. “So what are you doing back here? I thought you moved to Chicago.”

I sipped the latte, giving myself time to think of an answer. “I did. I’ve only been here a few days. I came with a friend who was unexpectedly called away on business. I’m still living in Chicago.” My gaze strayed across the street to where Darius was stationed. He was making no secret of the fact he was watching me. As I stared at him, he lifted his cell and spoke into it. So he wasn’t only a babysitter, but an informant too.

I wondered what Darius was saying—and to whom. That I was having coffee with an attractive man? William probably wouldn’t be happy to hear that. Good. Maybe he’d wonder what I was up to for a change.

“Good time to visit,” Jeremy said. “I bet the weather in Chicago sucks right now.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cold. It’s taken some getting used to.” I was surprised Jeremy didn’t try to press me for more details, though I wouldn’t have offered any if he had. I wasn’t ready to make my relationship with William—whatever the state of it was—public knowledge, especially not to Jeremy. He didn’t need to know what I was doing here. Hell, right now I didn’t even know what I was doing here.

“How are you?” I asked.

Jeremy’s whole face brightened. “I’m great! I graduated from law school last summer, and I’m engaged.”

“Really? That’s terrific. Congratulations. Anyone I know?”

“Nah.” He shook his head and sipped his espresso. “Her name is Amy, and we met at Stanford. She’s a lawyer too, but she works for the state in child advocacy.”

I nodded, a little surprised by his enthusiasm. I might not want to share the details of my life, but Jeremy was happy to tell me everything.

“The wedding is at the end of June,” Jeremy revealed. “We thought we might do it at the beach, but we haven’t decided yet. Amy is kind of freaking out because she says it’s getting late. Guess you gotta book wedding stuff way far in advance.”

I didn’t want to talk about weddings with the guy who had been one of the only witnesses to mine. “So where are you working?”

“With Dad’s firm in San Francisco. Corporate law, which pays well, but the work weeks are brutal. I’m only out of the office today because I’m up here meeting a client. I’m talking ninety-hour weeks, and…”

I realized I was just watching Jeremy talk and not listening to his words at all. It was hard not to stare at this man who looked so much like the man I’d married, so much like the man I’d thought I would share my life with. I remembered Jace so clearly. My heart clenched when Jeremy twisted his mouth in just the way Jace used to.

But Jeremy wasn’t Jace and I tried to focus on his eyes and his hair. Those were different, weren’t they? Maybe I was I just manufacturing differences to keep my heart from breaking at seeing Jace’s look-alike. After three years, I wasn’t sure how well I really remembered the details of Jace’s face. A picture was one thing, but in the flesh, he and Jeremy had been so alike.

Their voices might have been eerily similar, but Jeremy was rattling on about mergers and liquidation of assets and Jace never would have talked about something like that. He would have rolled his eyes and pretended to fall asleep. Not very mature, but—

“Hey, Cat, I want to apologize for my mom.”

My eyes snapped to Jeremy’s, and I stiffened. I did not want to talk about Jace’s parents. “Jeremy—”

He held up a hand. “She was awful to you. I know that and she knows that now. She tried to reach out to you.”

I pressed my lips together.

“Obviously, she didn’t succeed,” Jeremy said, reading my expression.

Hell, no, she didn’t succeed. I would never forget how she’d stood over my hospital bed in Hawaii, pointing her bony finger at me and screaming, “You killed my son. You killed my Jace.”

Mr. Ryder had to drag his distraught wife out of the room. That was just the first episode of her awfulness after the car accident that had killed Jace. There had been others, several of them in fact, and the Ryders were one of the reasons I didn’t want to come back to California, with or without William. I didn’t want to face them or the ghosts of my past and then wallow in all the grief and misery again. I’d been there, done that, and I’d escaped.