Hidden Gems

Jamie rubbed her back, hoping for the same. He’d hold back her hair, but not if that made him one of the girls.

“Time to take her home,” he said to Cassandra, who’d arrived in a slouchy sweater with her whisper-fine hair tucked haphazardly in a clip. She still managed to look like a princess among the paupers.

“Need any help?”

“Thanks, I’ve got her.”

Cass snapped open her bag and dropped several bills on the table to pay for a share of the drinks, sandwiches and très leches. She’d matured from the last time Jamie had seen her. According to Marissa, Cass had fallen under the good influence of a cop from Queens. That sounded like a strange pairing to Jamie, but he’d taken it as a sign of hope for himself.

“Great,” Cass said, “because I’ve got work in the morning, unlike Happy Holidays here. I need to get home.”

“Hold on.” Jamie made a motion to slide out of the booth. Marissa tried to straighten up, not very successfully. “I’ll walk you to the train.”

“Nonsense. It’s not that far to Tribeca. I’ll grab a cab.” Cass leaned down and pecked Marissa’s flushed cheek. “Call you tomorrow.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Take care.” Cass gave Jamie an appreciative smile. The luggage they’d stored under the table caught her eye as she turned to leave. “Don’t forget the bags.”

“Nothing important in ’em,” Marissa murmured. “Just my broken dreams.”

Jamie waved a couple of fingers at Cass before turning his attention back to the woman tucked beneath his arm. Marissa, she of the sharp angles and razor tongue, wasn’t warm and cuddly very often. Was it wrong to enjoy the hell out of holding her this way when she was only looking for a friendly shoulder?

“Also your passport and credit cards and house keys,” he said, nudging the suitcase with his toe.

“Gawd, I’ve become maudlin.” Her face scrunched in revulsion. “That means it’s abs’lutely, positively time to go.”

“Are you up to walking?”

“Sure. I’m not drunk. Only kind of loose.” She let her arms flop.

Like a broken doll, Jamie thought, knowing that tomorrow she would be a warrior woman again. Tonight there was a rather large chink in her armor. If ever he’d have the chance to explore her feelings for him…

But he couldn’t take advantage. Not because he was all that noble. Because she’d be miffed with him tomorrow, and Marissa in a temper brought even more of his hidden feelings to the surface. Her passion had always awed him. Although he’d tried to keep himself at arm’s length at the start of their friendship, he’d been a moth to her intense flame. No way could he maintain a distance, even when that meant going home singed by her lack of awareness. He told himself that while being her lover would be incredible, having her as a friend was enough.

Jamie hesitated. He’d lied. Friendship wasn’t enough. Besides, she’d brought up the question, not him. But he’d like an answer.

Why hadn’t they ever hooked up?

Marissa spoke first. “I’m sorry I’ve been so needy. You probably had better things to do this evening.”

“Not at all.” He had a movie review to write, but that wasn’t due until eleven tomorrow morning. Plenty of time, especially since he’d be up all night, taming tonight’s wayward urges. Marissa had no idea what he suffered for her.

“Ready to go?”

“I guess.” She slid out of the booth.

“Wait here.” He went to pay the bill to speed up the process, idling for a few minutes in the throng around the cash register. He watched the dark glimmer of Marissa’s reflection in the mirror behind the bar. She stared blankly across the room. Vulnerability was evident in her unschooled expression, and he nearly groaned out loud at the rare sight.

Oh, hell. He couldn’t press her tonight. She needed a white knight. That would be him—again.

She was squinting into the crowd when he returned. He asked her what she was looking for and got a shrug. “Thought I saw someone from the airport.”

“Not Paul.”

“Course not. He’s still in the Caymans, having meetings.”

Jamie handed her the straw purse, then dragged the lightweight suitcase out from beneath the table. “Are you ever going to tell me exactly what happened there?” A chattering group pushed past them to claim the table.

“It’s so predictable.” Marissa took a big breath when they emerged onto the street. “I hate being predictable.”

The night air was cool and fresh, a rarity that was unique to a few brief weeks of spring in the city. After the long winter, the Village had burst into life, throbbing with the beating drums of meeting, teasing, making love, making mistakes. Or maybe it was just Jamie’s head screwing with him because that was all that he could think about, especially since Marissa had brought up the subject of sex.

They headed toward the crosswalk onto Bleecker Street. “C’mon, tell me the story,” Jamie said. “I need to know whether or not I have to beat up Paul.” The statement was sure to get a laugh, given his resident pet geek status.

Marissa didn’t laugh. She peered at him from the corners of her eyes for a full five seconds before her berry-ripe lips stretched into an amused smile. “Thanks, darling. I’ll just kick Paul in the family jewels if he ever approaches me again.”

“Ow.”

She took his hand, twining their arms and swinging them as they walked. The cool air had perked her up. “Paul and I had been falling apart even before the Caymans. The trip was a last-ditch effort to keep the romance going.” Her face went grim. “If it was ever a romance at all.”

“I thought that Paul had swept you off your feet.” Hearing the details of their fancy dinners with champagne and roses had eaten Jamie up inside.

“Yes, well, turns out that I’ve been deceiving myself about what we meant to each other. After the first flush of attraction, we had nothing in common except ambition.” She squeezed Jamie’s fingers. “That’s always my mistake. I go for the flashy dressings when what I need is a man of real substance.”

What she needed was to figure out why she was drawn to the wrong men when she knew she’d end up unsatisfied. He’d recognized the pattern four disastrous relationships ago.

“What did Paul do?”

“I’m more unhappy with myself than him.” She wrinkled her nose. “But it was like I said. He promised me a fabulous spring vacation in the Caribbean. Then when we got there I found out he’d actually set up meetings with clients. The Cayman Islands have advantageous offshore investment and banking regulations. We have several clients who’ve incorporated their businesses there to avoid taxes.”

“Isn’t that kind of shady?”

“Not really,” she defended. “The law is the law. Howard, Coffman is a reputable firm.” A frown crossed her face. “I’ll admit I became curious about what Paul was up to. But when I asked to come along, he told me to get out of his business and into a bikini.”

“Ah.” Jamie almost smiled. He’d known the arrogant Paul would shoot himself in the foot sooner or later.

“Yeah. You know I hate getting that head-patting thing from guys. He tried to make it up to me when he came back, but I wasn’t having any. After that, it was all downhill. He ditched me in the hotel bar and took calls the one time we actually made it to the beach.”

She stopped, shook her head, then resumed a faster pace as they turned onto their home street, a short, narrow lane lined with chestnut trees and brownstones that had gone dark and quiet. “Enough. Let’s just get home. I’m boring even myself with this rehashing.”

“He hurt you. I can see it.” Jamie was agitated because he knew Marissa was leaving something out. It wasn’t like her to be evasive.

She turned quiet, firming her soft mouth as she stared straight ahead. Their footsteps echoed. “He cheated, okay? He said he had one last late-night meeting, and I guess that much was true because I saw him through my—”

She shot a shamefaced look at Jamie. “I didn’t mean to spy. I’d been snapping photos of the sunset from the hotel balcony. I happened to spot Paul through the lens, a short way down the road outside a beachfront bar. He was talking to a man with a briefcase, so I didn’t think too much of it until this island hoochie-coochie came up.”

Marissa was absorbed in the story now. They’d slowed to a stop near the wide front steps of a stately brownstone with double oak doors, half a block from home. Jamie put the bag down and took her other hand.