78
The others are up on deck, lazing around and eating a cold buffet that has been set out on a long, low table by the loungers; it looks incredible, and my stomach rumbles despite the anxious tension between Jake and me. It’s a welcome distraction, and I head straight for it to fill myself a plate, deliberately ignoring him behind me.
“Oh, the love birds have returned,” Leila squeals and almost throws herself into my arms for a hug. I cast her a warning look, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
“We went for a drive.” Jake’s broody tone comes from far behind me, as though he’s still standing at the top of the stairs to the deck; I ignore him. Leila casts a worried glance behind me and then back at me, but she keeps her mouth closed. I hear his footsteps as he leaves and heads down to the lower deck, and I’m relieved. We could do with some time apart to get over whatever this is between us; I can’t even begin to dissect the past twenty-four hours of this trip. So much for a vacation that would relax us!
Leila, sensing something is up, goes into overdrive to distract me. She is infectious and soon has me laughing, some of the tension easing, and I’m good at pretending everything is okay on the surface, that Jake isn’t at the forefront of my mind every second. I just want Jake to come back relaxed and normal, join in, and put this mess away, but he doesn’t reappear.
I’m cool toward the other girls. Since I arrived, Marissa has been watching me with a sour expression, and Miracle is lying topless, pouting and applying her third layer of lip gloss.
Jesus, put them away.
The twins are huddled together on one of the double loungers watching some sports game on Richard’s cell and making male grunts and moans when something isn’t going well. I assume it’s baseball.
Jake reappears half an hour later; he’s changed into a black fitted shirt and jeans, his usual clubbing look. I love that on him, and it cuts me inside. I just need us to be okay again. He has his shades on, hair spiked, and looks casual as always; even when I’m still mad at him, he makes me ache inside.
“Emma, I need you a second.” He sounds like boss Carrero and not Jake, and I prickle inside but get up dutifully.
Well, at least I know where I stand with boss Carrero.
I follow, and we walk down to a lower deck of the boat; I can sense his tension and stiffness even at a distance. He’s emanating anger; it makes my stomach drop down to my knees, but I only stand taller and maintain a look of disinterest, clasping my hands behind my back to hide the trembling as my stomach twists and my heart pounds.
“I’m leaving for a couple of days. I’ve left you a credit card in your room in case you want to go out; there’s a car onshore that will take you anywhere you want to go.” His voice is flat, and he avoids looking at me directly.
Wait, what?
My panic rises in a tidal wave of emotion.
“Where are you going? We cleared your schedule for two weeks so you wouldn’t need to go anywhere,” I react instinctively, my voice slightly higher and faster than usual. I’m practically hyperventilating because this was never part of the plan. He can’t leave me!
“Change of plan. Try and relax and have fun … if you can.” He almost spits the last words, sarcasm oozing from him, and it cuts me like a knife right to the heart.
So, we’re still at this, are we?
“Do you need me to come?” I reply coolly, in my best PA tone, pushing everything down and bringing that mask into play. I won’t let him see how much he’s wounding me.
“No, I don’t!” He’s closed off, his face devoid of expression, only his eyes betray him, with anger seething in the glittering green depths.
“Jake, you pay me to be at your beck and call and go with you at a moment’s notice.” I’m indignant. I don’t want him to leave; I want to know what’s happening. I want to be with him, to know what he’s thinking. I want us to go back to before and behave like we usually do like we used to do.
“I don’t pay you to watch me fuck other women, Emma,” he snarls at me, and I recoil as though I’ve been slapped. The knife slices into my chest, causing my body to reel back slightly. He knows how to deliver a low blow. He stalks away from me toward his room, oblivious, but I follow angrily.
“What? Why are you being an asshole?”
Why are you going to fuck other women suddenly? You don’t need other women; what happened to your sabbatical?
I want to grab him and shake him, bile rising in my throat at the thought of him with someone else. Pushing it down, I try to fight the urge to cry.
“I’m redefining the boundaries of our relationship, uncrossing the line. That’s what you called it, right?” he tosses back casually. I fall back, but I steel myself, swallowing my sobs and forcing my face to stay as impassive as I can muster as my body retches inside in agony.
Isn’t this what I wanted? For him to go back to his women, and I return to being just his PA?
No! Yes! I don’t know anymore.
“You think going off to screw someone will uncross that line?” The words catch in my throat like steel wool; I feel sick with the pain he’s inflicting.
“It’s a start.” He turns into his room and pulls a suitcase from the cupboard; I notice he’s already packed a flight bag on the bed, his passport lying beside it.
“Got over your little break, I see.” I sound cold. The reality is that I’m dying inside, and I want to yell at him. Hold onto him. Beg him to stop doing this, but I can’t.
You kissed me, Jake, twice. No, three times. You kissed me, and now you’re going to have sex with someone else.
“I think that’s probably the reason for all this recent tension; I need to let off steam,” he smirks icily, devoid of feeling. I don’t know this Jake. I hate this Jake. I want my regular Jake to come back, the one who would never talk to me this way, hurt me this way. My Jake would never abandon me to go off and be a lothario!
So, kissing me was ‘recent tension’?
I’ve never known this uncaring, distant, and angry Carrero. I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. I want to throw myself at his feet and cry and hold him back from going, but I won’t. I pull my chin up defiantly and push down the hurt, replacing it with anger and a glare; I let that trained part of me take over, in all her ice maiden coolness. That old reliable self-preservation has kicked in.
I have pride!
“Enjoy yourself.” I turn on my heel, close to tears. Inside I’m chaos of emotions and trauma, but my exterior is calm and unflustered, as if this means nothing to me.
“Don’t miss me while I’m gone, Tesoro mia.” His voice is oozing with charm. It only stabs my heart, unbearable pain that I won’t let him see.
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