“Everyone I know calls me Jamie. And I’m sorry, too, Kate.” He tried to pull me closer.
I pounded my fists against his chest. “You’re a liar.” I started to cry. “You lied to me while I was naked in your arms. And the article . . . you made me a fraud, and you ruined my career.” I tried to pull away but he held me. “Why did you approve it?”
“I didn’t. If I didn’t respond within forty-eight hours, he had a right to print it. It was in the contract.” He stepped away and looked down at his feet. “I was busy mourning the only family I had left.”
Wiping the tears from my face, I stood up straight and regained my composure. “I am truly sorry for your loss. I’m sorry for this whole big mess. I wish I had never gone out there. I wish I had never met you.”
“How can you say that?” He gripped the outside of my arms and stared down at me with a desperate pleading in his eyes. “Do you really mean that?”
“If you hadn’t lied to me, I wouldn’t have written a fucked-up fake article about you.” I yanked my arms out of his grip. “Who the hell was that guy I interviewed?”
“His name is Bradley Reis. He’s a friend of Susan’s—or was, I should say. She thought he would fit the part.”
“Fit the part?” I shook my head.
“I know, it seems so stupid now. I didn’t want to give up my privacy. I wanted to be able to walk around the winery and just be myself, just be Jamie. I was afraid if I met with a reporter, everyone would know who I was and hound me.”
“That’s not what would have happened.”
“I panicked. Susan said all we had to do was write down information about the winery and Bradley would just try to avoid all the personal questions. I never liked him and shouldn’t have trusted him.” Jamie was staring at his shoes. “I don’t think he expected you to be so persistent. I think he thought he could charm you.” He looked up and smiled timidly.
“Your little plan backfired, didn’t it? Now you’ve ruined your reputation and my career.”
“Jerry said Beth could write a rowback.”
“That’s great for you. Your name will be cleared, but I’ll still be out of a job.”
“I’ll do whatever I need to do to make this right.” His eyes watered a bit and then he swallowed. In a low voice, he said, “Why did you leave?”
“I didn’t see the note until today, but everything happens for a reason, doesn’t it?”
I turned to walk away but he followed. “Katy, I know you don’t believe that.”
“Don’t call me that,” I said without turning back. He grabbed my arm and swung me around. I gasped. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Stop this now! This is crazy,” he growled. He searched my eyes, still holding my arm tightly. “Just stop and give me a fucking chance.”
“You’re hurting me.” He let go instantly. “I barely know you. It was four days. Four days I wish I could get back,” I said in a calm, even tone.
He straightened up and squared his shoulders. “You’re a liar.”
“You’re the fucking liar.”
“I don’t care about the article. They don’t need to correct it. You can call me a liar, an asshole, whatever you want, but I know that four days meant something to you. I don’t care about my reputation or the money. Nothing!”
“What do you care about, Jamie? Making wine, singing karaoke, lying about who you are?” I continued walking quickly ahead of him.
“I care about you.” His tone wasn’t soft; it was matter-of-fact, the way a person sounds when they’re telling an absolute truth.
I turned on my heel and grabbed the lapels of his jacket. “Listen to me, Jamie. Do nothing. We are not meant to be. I live here and you live there. You are some insanely rich genius, and I don’t even own a car. I probably don’t have a job, either.” It was the first time I had seen him clean-shaven. I leaned up on my toes and kissed him softly then whispered, “You fucked with me. You fucked with us. And now we can never be.”
He stared down at me, looking somber. “Just tell me one thing.”
“What?” I seethed.
“Am I the only one you think about?” Tears filled my eyes again. I put my head down quickly and turned to walk toward the L station. He didn’t move but instead shouted, “I won’t give up. The poets are right!”
I got on the wrong train, so it took me an extra half hour to get home. When I entered my building, Jamie was sitting at the base of the stairs. He had ditched his suit jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. He looked the part of the CEO millionaire for once, except for maybe the tattoos and his tanned skin.
“Go home, Jamie.”
He got up and followed me toward the elevator. “Kate, please. Let’s go get a coffee and talk about this.”
“No.” I continued walking past him.
“I thought I scared you off with the note. I thought maybe it was too soon for you, and then when I read the article I realized how upset you were.”