He had thought of Grace when he’d invited her to his going-away party last night.
But he hadn’t thought about her when she didn’t show.
Nope.
Hadn’t watched the door the entire time, waiting for that familiar ponytail, wide hazel eyes, and calm smile that always convinced him everything was right in the world.
He hadn’t—
Hell. He was a fucking liar. He hadn’t been able to think of anything but Grace ever since she’d all but kicked him out of her office with a don’t-get-malaria pat on the ass.
It wasn’t that he’d expected tears and theatrics. Not from Grace.
But he’d thought she’d at least feel a modicum of the regret he did that whatever they had was ending so abruptly. At the very least he’d expected her to give him grief about walking out on the story before it was officially done, but she hadn’t even blinked.
It was time to accept that he’d been her playboy rebound, and she’d been his …
Shit. He didn’t know.
He only knew that the itch between his shoulder blades was getting worse. Why? He was getting the change he so desperately wanted. He should be feeling that familiar euphoria he got when he was headed in the right direction. Instead he felt … heavy.
“Jake, are you listening to me?”
No. “Sorry, Mom. What was that?”
“I was asking what Grace said when you told her.”
He gestured to the bartender for a beer—any beer—as he set his carry-on on the bar stool next to him and took a seat.
“I’ve already told you about a million times, Mom. She didn’t say much. Told me to have fun. Said that Costa Rica sounds great.”
“What else?”
Jake closed his eyes. How many times did he have to relive this? “I don’t know. There was the usual amicable breakup stuff. That I should give her a call when I get back to the city, and let’s be friends. Stuff like that.”
“Did she touch you?”
“Mom!”
“I mean, did she hug you goodbye? Squeeze your hand, anything like that?”
He thought back. “No. No, actually it sort of seemed like she was going out of her way not to touch me, come to think of it.”
“Oh, Jakey,” his mom said in her disappointed voice.
“Oh Jakey what?”
“You know, this whole time I’ve been on your side on this boys-versus-girls charade on your website. I’ve been so sure that my boy knew women. You have four sisters and a million ex-girlfriends. How could you not be an expert?”
“Not a million, Ma,” he muttered, taking a big gulp of beer.
“But I’m beginning to think you’re as clueless as the rest of them. Is the voting on the website still up? Because yesterday there was that poll asking once and for all whether Grace knew you better than you knew her …”
“I dunno, I quit paying attention to that stupid site.”
“So you won’t mind then if I change my vote? Side with the women?”
He set the beer glass down too hard on the beat-up wooden bar. “Why would you do that?”
“Because, my favorite son, you don’t know the first thing about women. Or at least you don’t know the first thing about Grace. You’ve got this whole situation all wrong.”
“What does that mean?” he growled. “What are you trying to say in your crafty maternal way?”
Silence.
“Mom! What does that mean?”
Jake pulled his phone away and stared at it in baffled silence.
His mother had just hung up on him.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“You sure you want to do this, Gracie?”
Grace accepted the beer that Julie held out. “No. But what choice do I have?”
She kept her voice low because there were people everywhere. The Yankees were playing Boston, which apparently was a big deal in baseball land, because the stadium was completely packed. Except only half the people in the Ravenna group seemed to care about the game. The rest were focused on her.
Well, her and Cory Garrison and Colby Blanche. Camille and Alex Cassidy’s new HeSaidSheSaid couple couldn’t be any cuter. Even their names went well together, and the readers who’d won the baseball tickets were eating it up.
As far as Grace knew, this was Cory and Colby’s first date, and every glance and smile were being eagerly observed.
Poor kids.
Mitchell sat down on the other side of Julie, handing Grace a hot dog before giving one to his fiancée.
“No relish,” he said with a wink at Julie.
Inexplicably, Julie grabbed the back of his head, pulling him down for a very baseball-inappropriate kiss.
“Wow, that’s a lot of tongue just because the guy managed to get your condiments right,” Grace said, taking a bite of her with-the-works hot dog.