One Breathless Night

Obviously, Rick wasn’t especially happy to see Paul. The man was nice-looking, if you were into three-piece suits with just a hint of pocket square showing.

“Great,” Paul said, his voice oily with booze and self-pity. “Just great. My wife left me last week. I thought it would be a good idea to come here instead of sitting home alone. Stupid. All I can think about is her and Dennis.”

“I’m sorry to hear it, Paul.” Rick slipped his arm around her so smoothly, she would have bet money that Paul hadn’t even noticed. “Maybe this is just a separation—”

“Maybe nothing. She wants out. All she cares about now is my money and her dermatologist.”

“Man, that sucks.” Rick put a hand on Paul’s shoulder. Steadied him a bit, and took him a few steps away from the food. “You have a place to stay tonight?”

“Got a room. Don’t want to go until I know I’ll crash until tomorrow. Why I came. Being alone is what sucks. The quiet. The...everything.”

“I think you’re gonna sleep just fine if you go up soon,” Rick said. “Real soon. Okay?”

Paul nodded, but not at Rick. There was an older man heading for them. He appeared to be someone connected to the group, or the hotel, she wasn’t sure which. But when he arrived, he smiled at Rick and then took over watcher’s duty. “Real soon, it is,” Paul mumbled.

“You think he’ll be all right?” Jenna asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “He knows a lot of people here, and he’s a big donor. They’re not gonna let him get into too much trouble.”

“Does that mean you know a lot of people here, too?”

“Not necessarily. I’m trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. You about ready to go sit down?”

She put several oysters on her plate and nodded.

Rick shook his head and put some on his, as well.

They found another table. They were both drinking water and the food was delicious. Jenna liked that he wasn’t hesitant to make yummy noises. It said a lot about him. He was comfortable in his own skin. She’d seen that all night, and she admired it a great deal.

Even though there wasn’t a bite of chocolate on her plate, she enjoyed every last bit of her food. After quickly washing up in the ladies’ room, she waited for Rick, who took her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor.

She didn’t know the song. Or care. They didn’t even dance, not for real. They just swayed back and forth, hardly moving their feet. She let her head rest on his shoulder. No, his chest. Rick was taller than Payton, and God, he smelled good.

“Payton loved me more,” she said.

He stopped swaying. “What?”

She pulled back, far enough to look at him. “I always thought he loved me more. I wanted it that way. I never told anyone. But I wanted to have the upper hand.”

“Because of your parents’ relationship?”

“Yes,” she said, surprised he’d made the connection so quickly. Obvious as the correlation seemed, it had taken her a while. She went back to swaying, and smelling his spicy cologne. It made her think of fall. Of leaves and grass and a storm brewing.

“I’m not in love with Faith,” Rick said.

Jenna didn’t lean back this time. She let him lead.

“I love her. Although I’m very disappointed and angry about what she did.” His body had tensed, and Jenna gave his shoulder a light squeeze. He tightened his arm around her, bringing her breasts flush against his chest. “I guess I thought the more passionate, long-haul kind of love would happen eventually. And being friends wasn’t a bad basis for a marriage.”

“Fair enough,” Jenna said, raising her voice, not her head. “But only if both parties agree.” She felt a bit drowsy...from the music, she supposed, and Rick’s warm body. “They both threw us under a bus tonight.”

They kept on dancing their own slow way when the music changed and Katrina and the Waves started singing “Walking on Sunshine.”

“Maybe you can salvage this thing,” she said, tilting her head back to look at him. “You might want to check your messages. I mean, you’re in Boston. You’re probably going to be sleeping in the same hotel bed. Eventually.”

“Well, that’s one way of looking at things.”

“And the other?”

He smiled his Danger Bond smile. “You and I go back to the apartment together.”

* * *

RICK WAS ALMOST sorry they’d left the MIT suite. It was too easy to think without constant distractions. But he knew Jenna had to be exhausted, and not just because it was 2:00 a.m.

The lobby traffic had dwindled, because it seemed everyone was outside in the freezing cold waiting for transportation. The longest line by far was the queue for taxis and he could barely hear the piped-out Christmas carols for the sound of whistles.

The idea of hypothermia, mixed with the daunting proposition of checking his texts and calls, made him wish they’d stuck with booze instead of switching to shellfish. But he couldn’t leave Boston without talking to Faith. “What do you think?” he asked. “Should we get in line?”

They were still inside the hotel near the front exit. Jenna had her cell phone out and from the number of tone notifications, Payton hadn’t spent all of the last two hours kissing Faith.

“I’ve got nineteen texts and six voice mails, none of which I plan on reading. Well, maybe a couple, But my intention is to text him to let him know I’ve made other arrangements for the rest of the morning.”

“Sounds about right. So, since I’m also just checking a few of Faith’s texts, we should probably get in that insane line.”

Jenna shivered preemptively. “Does that second bedroom have a heated blanket? Or a fireplace?”

“You’ll be fine,” he said. “I promise. Besides, the cab will be heated.” With great reluctance, he turned on his phone. He had his own pile of unread, unheard messages. Checking the first three and the last three texts should give him all the information he needed. If Faith was truly stranded, he wasn’t going to leave her here, even if it would make for the world’s most awkward cab ride. He didn’t want to think about the sleeping arrangements, but he’d do his best to make the night as comfortable as possible for the three of them. “I’ve got twelve texts and nine voice mails.”

She took a step toward the exit, and then just stopped. “Huh. What if it’s not all apologies?”

“What do you mean?”

“The way they looked at each other? Maybe they’ve reconnected with their soul mates. Maybe they’re writing us to say goodbye.”

“I doubt it. They chased after us, remember?”

“Right.” She nodded as she led the way to the porte cochere.

The cold was like a sucker punch. Sadly, he’d learned a lot about that feeling tonight. But they found the end of the taxi line and he opened the first of the texts.

I’m so so sorry!

The second was straightforward and typed at 12:13 a.m.

Where are you?

At half past midnight the tone shifted.