Evening Bags and Executions(51)

Jack got up and walked with me to the elevator. When it arrived he didn’t get in with me, just watched while the doors closed.

My stomach jolted a little more than it should have when the elevator dropped.

I’d thought he’d asked me to meet him here because it was a cool place, kind of romantic. I thought he’d dressed up to impress me. Now I wondered if that were true. I wondered if he was meeting someone else—a date—and had squeezed me in while he was waiting.

Not a great feeling.

But Jack had never suggested that this evening would be anything but business. In fact, he’d told me right from the start that he wouldn’t have anything to do with me romantically so soon after my breakup with Ty. Still, it bugged me that he might be upstairs right now, waiting for another woman to show up.

I’m not big on suspense, so I was really tempted to go back up to the rooftop, find Jack, and ask him straight out. But, for once, jumping headfirst into a situation didn’t seem right.

I couldn’t argue with Jack’s logic or his unwillingness to put his feelings out there until he was sure Ty and I were really over—which we were. At least Ty was really over us. And me? Well . . .

Yeah, no way could I go upstairs and ask Jack what he was up to tonight.

I glanced at my watch. Marcie was probably already waiting for me at The Grove, where we planned to shop for the Enchantress bag tonight. I gave her a quick call and told her I’d be there in a few minutes, then got my car from the valet and drove over.

We’d planned to check out Nordstrom, but when Marcie saw me walk up she immediately knew something was wrong—as a BFF would.

“What happened?” she asked. Then she didn’t let me answer, just took my arm. “Let’s go talk.”

We settled at a table at an outdoor café near the bookstore. It was dark now and a little chilly; candles flickered on the tables and patio heaters burned. All the shops and restaurants were lit up. Lots of people strolled past. The bell on the trolley clanged as it rolled by.

Since we weren’t at my place where we could avail ourselves of Coronas and massive amounts of chocolate, we settled for coffee and a dessert sampler.

“I saw Ty,” I told her.

Marcie gasped. “Oh my God, Haley, why didn’t you tell me? Where did you see him? What happened? No wonder you’re so upset.”

“It wasn’t today,” I said, and she didn’t seem mad that I hadn’t confided in her when it happened—which just shows what a great BFF Marcie was. “I ran into him outside the bank.”

“You just ran into him?” she asked. “You don’t think he saw you and walked over? Or maybe he followed you there?”

“Followed me?” I asked. “Why?”

“Despite everything, Ty’s a nice guy. I’m sure he was concerned about you after the breakup,” Marcie pointed out. “Maybe he wanted to see you and make sure you were okay. Maybe he wanted to talk to you.”

I shook my head. “If Ty was all that concerned about me or wanted to talk, he could have called me weeks ago.”

“Maybe he was afraid calling would upset you,” Marcie suggested. “A chance encounter would be easier for you—and him, too.”

We were quiet for a minute, then Marcie asked, “How did he look?”

“Terrific,” I said. It came out sounding kind of sad.

“What did you two talk about?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I was just blabbing on like I was happy, like everything was great,” I said. Then I remembered something Ty had asked me. “He knew I had a new job.”

“How did he know about it?” she asked.

“I have no clue,” I said.

“Didn’t you ask him?”

I shook my head. “I was so upset I started to cry. I practically ran into the bank to get away from him.”

“Maybe that was your exit cry,” Marcie said. “You know, the cry that washes away the relationship and ends it for good. So you’re over him now.”

Marcie was almost always right about things, but I wasn’t so sure about the whole exit cry thing. Neither was I sure that I was completely over Ty.

I sat there for a few minutes thinking back to when I’d seen Ty outside the GSB&T. While I’d been forcing a smile and putting on a look-at-me-I’m-happy show, he hadn’t acted that way at all. Now that I thought about it, he’d seemed quiet, sort of subdued. And he had tried to tell me something when I’d bolted for the bank.

I guess Marcie read my expression, because she asked, “Do you want to talk to Ty one last time?”

“Yes.” I might have moaned that.