“I’m going for a run … I’ll pack when I get back.” He makes to move away, but falters, reaching out, he
shoves my shoulder so that my laptop slips slightly. I snap my chin up to look at him, surprised, and
identify the wariness and the glint of playful. He’s trying to make amends; he’s trying to smooth it over
and get back to yesterday too. I relax with a sigh; there’s my Jake, back to being adolescent, trying to
make me smile and it’s working. Our stupid juvenile way.
“I’m suing you for sexual harassment.” I chuckle shyly. Making light of it all, hopeful that it’ll work. My
heart still beating fast, wanting to just let this go.
“I’ll blame Jack Daniels for my misdemeanors. I was in no way in control of my faculties last night.” He
smiles, filled with relief, the tension between us evaporates and he ruffles my hair in his irritating
manner.
“Go away and have your run. Stop annoying me.” I mock pout and smile to myself as he wanders off,
giving me a backward glance and a cheeky grin.
We’re okay. It’s done …
Back to how we were. Like it never happened.
* * *
I drop my pen several times and catch him frowning at me several more, alerting me to the fact I’m
twisting my hair absent-mindedly.
When the hell did that habit return? That crap stopped months ago when I relaxed with my new boss.
I’ve been so antsy and jumpy on this flight; I think it’s the lack of sleep. It’s a six-hour flight, give or take,
and so far, I’ve spent most of it rereading the same document in front of me. My focus is shot so I slide
the laptop closed and check my cell for the twentieth time.
Jake’s now asleep in his seat, with headphones on, listening to his playlist before he dropped off. I
smile as I recognize a song with the lyrics “Cry Baby” playing quietly even from here. Our passing of
jokes song.
He appears relaxed and young with a peaceful expression on that flawless face. I’ve seen him asleep a
thousand times, but for some reason, right now, his face fascinates me. I forget that he’s still only in his
twenties. I know he’s older than me, but still, it’s only by two years at the most. Everything he handles,
things he’s capable of. I wonder if he will turn out like Carrero senior when he’s older, work fueled and
commandeering.
No … Jake will always be this way. Cool and relaxed like his mother. Effortlessly laid back and smiley.
That happy look he always has in his eyes, the easy charm and smile he treats everyone to. I watch
him for a while longer, finding peace in it, watching him breathe, watching him lay motionless; fully
trusting his staff to fly us home. I’ve rarely slept on any of the flights at all. I’m not a good flyer;
something he teases me about it endlessly. Edgy and tense until we land as having to put my life in
someone else’s hands doesn’t sit well with me; it’s not easy.
I stare out of the window and watch parts of a movie that doesn’t really capture my attention for an
hour. I know I keep adjusting my position and I pick up my pen so many times, just to have something
to fiddle with. One edge for no reason.
“Relax!” His sleepy voice draws me to turn to face him, he’s regarding me with heavy lids, all boyish yet
handsome at the same time. My heart melts a little at that soft look.
“Hey,” I respond lightly. He looks comfortable, still resting in the position he’s slept in, but his green
eyes focus lazily on me across the aisle. We’re sitting in opposite directions.
“I’m trying.” I smile so it barely grazes my lips.
“I know something that will relax you.” He returns the same gesture, and I start frowning with the ghost
of that smile on my lips.
“What?” suspicion rising internally.
He rests his head back in its previous position and closes his eyes. Confidence returning to his tone.
“Two weeks on a yacht in the Caribbean … And you don’t get to say no!”
***
“I’m home,” I yell out into the apartment, dropping my keys on the hall table. There’s soft jazz music
coming from Sarah’s room, the distinct smell of Marcus’s aftershave in the sitting room, and a half
empty bottle of wine and two glasses on the table. I sigh, bristling inside and ponder showing up at
Jake’s apartment for the night as he offered. I should have stopped over, instead of the extra car
journey home; we’d be watching a movie by now.
There’s no response from the closed bedroom so I assume they don’t want to be disturbed. I don’t
attempt to call out again. I just go to my room and dump my luggage by the bed, glad to be home, yet
at the same time the familiar pang of missing Jake is already washing over me.
We have worked together so much over the last few months, glued side by side, so being apart feels
abnormal. Even though we do occasionally spend weekends apart, somehow the recent non-stop
chaos of trips and work days flowing into each other has meant a long few weeks of barely, rarely,
being separated and I guess it’s why I feel it more now than ever. I haul open my suitcase and discard
some of the dirty laundry into the hamper, plug my technology into the chargers on my desk and begin
to change into nightwear.
My cell vibrates across my desk and I glimpse the notification with Jake’s name, lighting the screen. I
pick It up with a smile that lifts my mood and I warm at the familiar notification.
Jake Carrero has gifted you an iTunes song.
I swipe open the screen without hesitation and open the email, beaming stupidly.
Jake Carrero has sent you “Bryan Adams” – “When You’re Gone.”
The grin spreads across my face widely and shake my head. I know the song well and laugh at his
cuteness. I guess he’s feeling the same; like his right hand has been removed. I laugh at the pun,
scrolling iTunes, looking for an appropriate title while listening to the song he’s sent me. So very Jake,
with his love of crooning rock stars. Despite the love lyrics most of the song mirrors how I feel so I send
him back a gifted song.
“Are You Missing Me?” by Jim & Jesse McReynolds
I have never heard it before, but the title makes me giggle. I laugh at its cheesy country-ness, knowing
he will be amused by it too. I put my cell down and go back to unpacking my bags slowly, again
interrupted by the vibration of my phone and another iTunes gift.
Jake Carrero has sent you—Bon Jovi – “Always”.
I can’t help the wave of warmth, followed by the pang of sadness that overcomes me. I really do miss
him despite only leaving him less than an hour ago; he just has a way of getting into my head and
under my skin. I wouldn’t know how to carry on if he ever decided we were no longer to work together.
The memory of what that kiss could have ruined shakes me inside and turns my blood cold.
My cell vibrates in my hand again and my mother’s cell number appears on the screen, instinct causing
me to ruffle my brow. I take a deep steadying breath, letting out a sigh. I don’t have time for her guilt
trips tonight, I’m tired and fed up, and all she ever does is make me feel bad for never coming home. I
hesitate but answer despite my reservations. That ingrained guilty conscience she has burdened me
with.
“Hello Mother.” I push out flatly.
“Emma, hi,” A strange, young girl’s voice answers, making me frown in confusion. Surprised by the
voice. “Is that Emma?” she asks with uncertainty.
“Speaking.” I reply tightly, unsure as to who she is or why she’s using my mother’s cell to call me. She
sounds young, incredibly young. Early teens young and that riles up suspicion.
“Emma hi, my name’s Sophie … Your mom’s been helping me out.” She sounds scared, her voice
wavering as trepidation moves up my spine. Sixth sense tingling that this is wrong.
“Mmm hmm.” I snap, aggravation building up; somehow deep inside me I can sense her apprehension
and it’s raising mine. I can feel the emotion in her voice and the fact she sounds scared.
“Your mom’s in the hospital … You need to come home to Chicago … Someone really hurt her.” She all
but bursts into tears.
* * *
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