“Fine.” I set down the glass of champagne I’ve been holding for the past half hour.
It’s warm and flat now. “I’ll keep quiet.”
“What’s wrong?” Jackson looks me over with a frown. “Missing your big football player?”
I give him the side eye. “How did you know that?”
“Because Benedict Cumberbatch just walked by, and you didn’t even blink.”
“What?” I whip my head around, searching the room. “Where?”
“I’m kidding.” He laughs when I glare at him. “You should’ve seen your face.”
“You dickweed.” I give his side an elbow. “That was beyond low.” Jackson knows I have a thing for Cumberbatch—with that deepvoice and quiet way of his that you just know hides a total perv in the bedroom.
Jackson fends off my attempt to pull the perfectly folded aqua handkerchief from his coat pocket so I can bat him with it.“Hey now, pixie, easy with the outfit. I give. I give. I was a dick.”
“Damn right you were,” I say with a sniff. “I’d like to see how you’d handle it if I said I saw Fassy.”
He makes a look of mock horror. “You wouldn’t. My love of Fassy far exceeds your high-school-girl crush on Sherlock.”
“Actually, I liked him better as Khan.”
“Oh, me too. I think if I ever met him I’d have to shout it a la Captain Kirk.” Jackson makes a face as if he’s silently screamingout, “Khaaahhnn!” and I laugh.
Smiling, I lean my head on his shoulder, and he wraps an arm around me, giving me a squeeze. “You’re missing your man?”
“Seriously, Jack, how did you know?”
“I’m fairly certain I had that look on my face when I first met Hal and he decided hehadto live in Milan for a summer to learn about textiles. The bastard.”
Jackson takes a sip of his white wine as he strolls me overto the wall of windows facing downtown. “It was misery. But at least I had the comfort of knowing he was miserable too.”
“Cold comfort. I don’t want Dex to be unhappy.”
Jackson gives the top of my head a kiss. “Sweet girl.”
“It hurts, Jack. I actually hurt.” I press my fist against my chest where the pain is centered. “I don’t like it.”
He stares down at me with solemn eyes. “What are you going to do about it?”
With a ragged sigh I stare out the window. The old me would have run, ditched the troublesome baggage and moved on. It hitsme that thereisan old me, because I’ve changed. I don’t think Dex has changed me, but being with him, caring about him, has. And the newme does not run.
Unfortunately, the new me did not come with a set of instructions on how to handle a long-distance relationship. Which wouldhave been awesome. What am I going to do?
“Something drastic,” I find myself saying. I take a breath and meet Jackson’s eyes. “Something risky.”
Just stating it has my heartbeat speeding up with anticipation. Yes, something risky and daring and right. For the first timein days, I feel like I can breathe.
My old friend starts to grin as if he’s been waiting for me to say as much.
“By the way.” Jackson reaches into his inner suit pocket and pulls out a slip of paper. “Sold your table the other day.”
“You did?” I practically squeal but manage to hold on to my dignity by a thread.
“Yes, ma’am.” He hands me the paper. “Your check.”
My jaw falls as soon as I read it. “Get the fudge sticks out!” I gape at Jackson, then at the check. “Is this for real?”
