Chapter 14
"Did you meet him when he tried to f*ck you?" I expect her to choke on that bite of soft pretzel she just took. Lucky for her I have medical training. I'll save her depending on how truthful she's going to be.
"Who?" She chews as she throws me a quick glance. "The pretzel guy? He didn't try and f*ck me. He winks at everyone who gives him a tip."
"Nathan." I don’t want this conversation to go on any longer than it needs to. I'd already packed most of my things this morning even though I had no idea where I'd live. On my measly salary, the options in Manhattan are limited to a cardboard box or a closet.
"What?" A one word response isn't going to cut it.
"He told me last night." I look off into the distance. This is the same bench where Nathan and I sat weeks ago when he told me he couldn't stand the idea of missing me. I thought back then that everything between us would be simple and fun. Now, everything had turned horrible and painful in an instant.
"What?" Again? Really? We're not going to get anywhere if she can't expand her vocabulary.
"He asked you to report on me." I practiced saying that over and over again all morning. "That's why he always knew where I was."
"He's lying." Finally, more than one word pops out of her. The panicked look on her face is all the confirmation I need.
"He's not." I can't look in her in the face. "He showed me some of the texts you sent him when we were at the movies. You told him I was going to take you to that bar so he went there with his friend."
"Shit." The pretzel falls from her hands onto the grass. "Jess, I'm sorry."
"You took me to that hotel room for a reason, didn't you?" I ask in an even tone. It's nagged me since that day. I've always wondered why she was so righteous as she pulled me into that elevator and up to the eighteenth floor so she could watch me fall to pieces once I realized he still had the room.
"I don’t trust him." The words aren't meant to be tempered. She's simply telling it like it is. "He used to date Cassandra."
I laugh at the announcement. "I know." I've been trying to shelter her from that tidbit of information for weeks and now she's telling me that she knew all along? What happened to the honesty in our friendship?
"That's where I met him." She turns to face me directly now. "I saw him in her office one day. I introduced myself."
"Why didn't you bother to tell me that when I first went up to his hotel suite?" The question is rhetorical at this point. It wouldn’t have changed a thing. I wanted him then. I want him now. As much as I know I shouldn't, I can't help what I feel.
"She told me that morning that they were on a break." She reaches past me to grab hold of the back of the bench. "When I saw him at the club, I knew it was over for him. I knew he was going to end it completely with her."
"So there was nothing to hold you back from telling me?" I push the issue. She could have simply told me he was still in a relationship with her boss.
"I wanted him but he never wanted me." Her voice cracks with the confession. "I came on to him once and he very politely told me he wasn't interested."
I feel a slight pang of jealousy at the admission. Of course she would have tried to get him in her bed. Any woman would have given the way he looked. How could I blame her for that? I was all over him the first moment I saw him at the bar.
"I started it when I texted him that we would be going for lunch and meeting Bryce." She taps her finger behind my back. "I couldn't believe he was there with that chick. I thought he'd be alone."
"You told him we would be there? Why?" I stare down at my skirt, tracing my finger along the bright pattern.
"I still thought I'd have a chance with him." She shrugs. "I thought he'd see you with Bryce and think you were taken and I'd have my opening."
"That's why you went to pay the check?" I feel as though everything is falling into place. "You left us alone."
"He only ever wanted you." I feel her hand on my hair, pulling it back.
"You still want him." It's not a question. I don't need to ask that. It's more an observation. She obviously has been trying to get me to doubt Nathan. That's why she told him about my date with Drew and let him know when we went to the other club that one night.
She shakes her head slightly. "Not anymore. He's so hung up on you, Jess."
"So why help him?" I'm half-expecting her to tell me that he's paying her. Men like Nathan Moore can pay for whatever they want. Money means nothing to him.
"I love you." She runs her hand along my shoulder. "You're my best friend. I knew Drew was bad news. I just gave Nate a heads-up whenever I saw Drew around you. "
"That night at the bar you pushed me to go talk to Drew." It's open-ended on purpose. I want her to fill in the blanks so it can finally make sense to me.
"I knew Fingers was there…" she stops herself. "Or at least coming there. I told him where we were going. I wanted him to see you with Drew so he'd finally tell him to f*ck off for good."
"You're serious?" I ask, not expecting anything in return. I can't help but doubt her motivations.
"I've never seen you as happy as you are when you're talking about him, Jess." She pulls her gaze down to her own lap. "I just want you to be happy."
That's easier said than done. There's one only person that truly makes me happy and he's the one man I keep trying desperately to avoid.