He cut the engine, feeling as though he was living on deep breaths lately. The devil tried to be heard again, and this time Jamie made a deal with him. He was good at deals. If she doesn’t walk out that door, I’ll walk away and never look back.
With his heart hammering against his chest, he stepped from the car and into the dark night. He was parked over to the side, beyond the bubble of lights illuminating the lot. He didn’t need strangers thinking he was some poor sap stalking one of the musicians.
The thought made him feel even more stupid. What was he doing standing in a dark parking lot waiting for a woman who probably didn’t even exist? She wasn’t on the list. Jessica Ayers could have been a made-up name, for all he knew. She could be anyone, anywhere.
And still, he had to see for himself.
He paced in the dark, every second sucking more air from his lungs. Finally, an interminable number of minutes later, the doors opened, and musicians carrying large black instrument cases walked out. Jamie’s heart slammed against his chest as he watched them file out, say their goodbyes to one another, then turn and get into their cars. He waited as the parking lot emptied, his hopes deflating further with each passing car.
When the last car left, the remaining air left his lungs in a rush. He couldn’t believe it. He’d felt her honesty. Felt it!
He was a fool.
An idiot.
Thank goodness for Mark. He’d never doubt him again.
He went back to the car and grabbed his phone to call him. The message light was blinking. He’d forgotten to turn the volume on after the meeting. Probably Mark wanting to know if he’d opened the stupid envelope. He pressed the voicemail icon and listened to the messages.
The first one was from Mark. Listen. I know you’re pissed, but after you read the docs, call me. I apologized to Amelia, and…sorry, man. The whole thing’s a pisser.
He lowered the phone for a beat.
Then he lifted it to his ear again as the next message played.
Hi. His pulse quickened at the sound of Jessica’s voice. I miss you, and I’m sorry. She sounded so sad, so sweet. He reached for the car as his throat thickened. Oh, Jamie. I miss you so darn much.
He turned at the sound of the heavy metal door opening, and beneath the haze of the bulb above the door, he made out two dark forms. A large man and a lithe woman appeared. The man was carrying a large instrument case. The woman carried nothing other than a purse over her shoulder, her arms crossed, shoulders rounded forward as they walked toward the front of the building.
Numb with anticipation, he pressed Jessica’s speed-dial number into the phone. He had to talk to her, regardless of his deal with the devil, or what the papers said, or the Internet, or anything else in the entire universe. He had to speak directly to her and hear her tell him that she’d lied.
The phone rang once.
Twice. Pick up. Pick up.
He turned at the sound of a man’s voice behind him as the phone rang a third time.
JESSICA DUG HER phone from her purse and stumbled at the sight of Jamie’s name on her screen.
“Millicent, are you okay?” Charlie caught her by the arm. “Careful in those heels.”
It took her a second to remember to respond to her given name. “Mm-hm. I um…I have to answer this. Thank you for carrying my cello.” She took it from his hands.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait? Call you a cab?”
They had planned on sharing a cab, but Jessica could barely think. It probably wasn’t a good idea to be in a cab with her manager when she fell apart. She’d need time to recover from whatever Jamie had to say—good or bad.
“No, thank you. I’ll get one. Thanks again.” She waved as if everything was fine and turned back toward the rear of the building for privacy. The interaction took three seconds, but in those three seconds her legs had gone weak, and she felt like she was riding a roller coaster to an impossible height. Reaching for that shred of hope she allowed herself to dream of a hundred times over the last few days, she made it five steps before needing to lean against the railing next to the building as she answered the call.
“Jamie.” She sounded as breathless as she felt.
“Jessie.”
She heard the smile in his voice, the tenderness that she remembered, and it stole the rest of her strength. She crumpled to her knees, right there beside the building. The cello case banged against the pavement. She was riding that coaster down. Down, down, down from that impossibly high peak.
“Yes,” she whispered as tears streaked her cheeks.
“Jessie. I’m sorry. Please, don’t say a word and—”
“Jamie.” She swiped at the salty tears sliding between her lips. “I’m sorry I—”