“ARE you ever going to tell me what’s eating you, or do I have to go on pretending I don’t notice anything wrong?” Melanie punctuated her question with a dramatic sigh.
Ella balanced the phone on her shoulder and leaned back against the headboard. With a good portion of her living areas in various stages of construction, her bedroom was one of the few places in her house not currently in pieces. From her bed, she still had a view of the ocean out over the side porch—an unobstructed view, now that she’d taken down the hammock. The temperatures had dropped too low to sit outside after the sun went down, so she didn’t have much reason to be out there until spring arrived. Maybe she’d buy a new hammock then. Or maybe some kind of chaise instead.
Definitely a chaise. Hammocks were nothing but trouble.
“What makes you think there’s something wrong?”
“Hel-lo this is me you’re talking to. Your voice sounds funny, you’re less talkative than usual—even your e-mails are blue-tinged. Something’s been bugging you for a over a week now, and I’m driving myself crazy worrying about it.”
Mel’s question put her in a bad position. She could lie or make excuses for her mood, but there was a ninety-eight-percent chance Mel would see it for what it was. Obviously, the pretend-everything-is-just-fine route wasn’t working, so continuing to plod along there would be a waste of time. Either of those options would also keep Mel on high worry alert, and everyone suffered when Mel worried.
Too bad the truth wasn’t an option.
“I think it’s just the settling-in blues. Work is taking more out of me than I planned, and the work on the house is slow going. You know what a control freak I am. All the upheaval is just getting to me. I’m a little homesick, as well.”
“I can have a moving truck at your house tomorrow.”
That brought a laugh. Even funnier was that Mel was dead serious. If she listened closely, she’d probably hear the yellow pages rustling as Mel looked up moving companies.
“I’m not kidding, El. There’s the cutest vacant apartment just a block from here that would be perfect for you. Plus, I ran into Abe Morris the other day at the market. He said he’d kill to have you back. He mentioned a raise and a possible promotion.”
“Which, technically, I should have gotten two years ago. He’s just sore he has to actually work these days instead of hiding in his office playing computer games. You know he keeps e-mailing me with questions, right? Thanks, but I think I’m good where I am.”
“You could have fooled me. You sound miserable.”
She tried for a light tone. “I’m fine, Mel. Seriously.”
“Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“I know. And if there was anything to tell, I would.” She salved her guilty conscience with the fact there wasn’t anything to tell now. Nothing Melanie could do to help, either. “Stop worrying. When I get there Wednesday, you’ll be able to see for yourself that I’m fine.”
“I’ll meet you at the airport. And Mom is making sweet potatoes just for you.”
“It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without them.”
Slipping out from under Mel’s microscope, Ella breathed a sigh of relief. After a few more minutes, she was able to get off the phone and halt the line of questioning.
She doubted Mel believed her story, but it would buy her a little more time. Not that she had much available. She had four days to pull it together before she flew to Chicago to spend Thanksgiving with Mel and her family. If Mel was picking up on her misery so easily now, she was in trouble the second she stepped off the plane.
Thirteen days. Thirteen days since Matt left. No phone calls. No e-mails. Nothing. It was as if they’d never met.
Oh, but they had. And the ache that set up camp in her chest was a constant reminder.
She’d gotten used to him too quickly. She should’ve listened to the little voice in her head and not let herself get so close. She should have ended it completely and in no uncertain terms before she ever left Chicago. She should’ve turned down his offer of a fling. Hell, she never should’ve slept with him in the first place.
Then she wouldn’t be in love with him now.
It’d taken four days of misery and heartache for her to admit that to herself. How and when she’d fallen for him was a mystery, but she was inexplicably in love with the infuriating man. Which was exactly what she’d wanted to avoid.
She didn’t do well in relationships. Never had. It was too difficult when they reached the end, so she learned to not start anything she wouldn’t be able to get out of easily. Matt wasn’t content with just crawling into her bed. Oh, no, he hadn’t stopped until he’d crawled into her head and heart as well.
What she’d thought was just hormonal infatuation was proving to be something much more, and now it was eating her alive. If the pain was all she had to deal with, she’d be okay. She’d dealt with worse. But the sinking feeling of regret—of a loss she couldn’t quite put her finger on—was the worst part.
She didn’t like the regrets.
A niggling voice in the back of her mind whispered she’d really screwed up this time. That Matt was worth hanging on to, even if it would be difficult—in every way imaginable—to do so.
She returned the phone to its cradle and pulled her paint-splattered shirt over her head, covering her to her knees. Although she tried not to, her eyes kept wandering to the chair across from the bed.
A gray sweatshirt sporting PENN in big letters lay folded there. She’d found it the day after Matt left, turned inside out from a hasty removal and accidentally kicked halfway under the bed. Even now she could picture the look on Matt’s face as he’d pulled it over his head and let it fall.
How to return it was a mystery. She couldn’t pass it off to Mel or Brian to return without garnering the third degree. She didn’t have his home address—and it wasn’t listed, she had checked—and sending forgotten clothing to his office screamed bad taste.
The faint smell of Matt’s aftershave still clung to it. Simply folding the sweatshirt had brought tears to her eyes. She hadn’t touched it since then. Eventually she’d have to.
Later, after the rawness eases a bit.
She padded barefoot to the other room, where her brushes and palette were waiting, and perched on the battered stool. Squinting critically at the canvas, she decided it wasn’t that bad. Working with the oils was more difficult, but all and all, it was turning into a cathartic experience. Painting allowed the hours to pass without much thought on her part. It was all about focus, and it kept her mind from wandering away from the canvas to painful, regret-filled places.
She took a deep breath, the pain in her chest expanding with her lungs. She focused on breathing out slowly, clearing her mind and reminding herself that this, too, would pass.
It had to.
“These need your signature, these are for your reviewing pleasure, and this is your travel itinerary.” Matt’s assistant tilted her head as she handed over the last item. “You’re going home for Thanksgiving? In five years, I’ve never known you to go away for the holidays.”
Matt took the printout and laid it aside. “Yeah, well, normally I don’t. But I kind of promised to this year.”
Debbie smiled. “I know your mother will be happy.” She headed for her desk in the outer office. “Don’t forget a coat,” she tossed over her shoulder. “The weather forecast for Chicago is pretty chilly.”
With his luck, they’d get an early snow. If he hadn’t already told his mother he’d be there, he’d spend the long weekend on the golf course and save himself the hassle. But after promising Ella last month, he’d told his mother to save him a seat at the adults’ table. Now he was stuck.
Ella. He had to stop thinking about her. She’d made herself and her feelings pretty clear, and the stunning silence from her left no room for misunderstanding.
Ella’s silence—along with the massive workload awaiting his return—had actually helped. The distance helped increase his clarity, and he was able to see his infatuation for what it was. He’d been crazy to even consider it might be something more than that. Ella was funny, smart, beautiful and good in bed, and he’d just gotten carried away.
There was a first time for everything. Thank God he’d gotten it under control. He should be thanking her for ending it before it went any further and someone got hurt.
His eyes landed on his itinerary again. Most likely, Ella would be in for the holiday, as well. If so, she’d be staying with Melanie and Brian. It’s not as though Ella had other family to go see for the holiday. There was a very good chance he’d see her.
His body reacted instantly, hardening at the thought of her. The rational part of his big brain might be clear on the realities of the situation, but his little brain wasn’t there yet. It was annoying as hell.
But it wouldn’t be a problem. They were adults. They’d hooked up, but now it was over. The limited contact they might have to have wouldn’t be an issue.
No problem at all.