“It’s been fun,” she said lightly as she stepped out of his arms.
“More than fun,” he corrected. He shifted awkwardly. “Will you send me a copy of the magazine when your article comes out?”
“Sure.” Jane bent down and collected her underwear from the floor. Tucking it into her purse, she glanced around at the other items of clothing strewn across the room and smiled ruefully. “Can you toss everything else into the duffel I brought over and have it sent to my room?”
“No problem.” His throat suddenly felt thick, tight. “I’ll see you around, Jane.”
“See you around, Becker,” she echoed.
She slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder and walked out of the room. As he heard the front door click shut, Becker realized they’d just spoken the same parting words they’d said that first day, when they went their separate ways after the elevator encounter.
Last time, the goodbye hadn’t stuck.
This time, he had to make sure it did.
Chapter Six
Jane woke up the next morning to the sound of her cell phone chirping out a tinny rendition of a Bon Jovi song. It was her sister’s ring tone, which was the only reason she forced herself into a sitting position and grabbed the cell phone from the bedside table. She hadn’t spoken to Liz since she’d driven down to San Diego from LA, and she wanted to make sure her older sister was doing okay. Being held hostage in South America wasn’t an easy experience to forget, though Liz kept acting like it was no biggie.
“Hey, Lizzie,” she said sleepily, rubbing her eyes.
“Hey, Janie,” her sister teased. “Did I wake you?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, I had to get up anyway.” She shifted the phone to her other ear and climbed out of bed.
“How’s the writing going?”
“At the moment, it’s not. But I’m planning on sitting down and finishing the first draft today.”
“Did you end up getting the interview from Thomas Becker?”
Jane ignored the pain and regret that filled her belly. “No, he didn’t agree to it.”
“I thought that would happen.” Liz chuckled softly. “He seemed like a very private man.”
“He is.”
“But that body, it’s to die for, isn’t it?” her sister said with a dreamy sigh.
Another spark of pain. Yep, Becker’s body really was amazing. But not as amazing as the rest of him. She’d spent nearly a week with him, which had been plenty of time to get acquainted with his other attributes. Like the gentle way he brushed her hair off her forehead. His rare smiles and even rarer burst of laughter. His serious intelligence. The way he accepted her completely, appreciated her candid nature and total lack of inhibition.
Except…he hadn’t completely accepted her, now had he? She hadn’t been enough for him, when it mattered. Irritation nipped at her throat. His ex-wife had screwed him up pretty badly, and now he was going out of his way to find a woman who probably didn’t even exist. This wasn’t the 1950s anymore. Chances were, he’d have a tough time finding that perfect, childbearing housewife of his.
Not that it was any of her business. She and Becker were over. The fling had ended. And now she needed to focus on other things, namely writing her article and going back to LA.
“Listen,” her sister was saying, “Mom and Dad are planning a party for Ken’s birthday. We’re using one of his photos as the cover of the invitation, but Mom wanted you to write the text.”
Jane bit back her surprise. Her family never made much of an effort to acknowledge her writing career. Sure, scribbling the text for an invitation wouldn’t showcase her writing or anything, but it was the first time they’d bothered to include her in something. A rush of warmth filled her heart. Maybe almost losing Liz had made her parents realize their younger daughter was important too.
“Tell Mom I’ll call her when I get back to LA,” Jane said. “I’ll be happy to help out.”
“Good.” Liz’s voice softened. “You sure you’re okay? You sound…sad.”
“I’m fine,” Jane lied. “Just busy.”
“Well, finish up that article and come home already. We’ll go out for lunch when you get back, okay?”
“Okay.”