He exhaled and shoved his hands into his pockets. This wasn’t going to be easy. How did he even start the conversation? He turned to look out on the bustling Charleston street. Taxis honked, and cars flickered by in a kaleidoscope of color. The clatter of the receptionist’s heels caused him to turn back around.
“She’s agreed to see you as long as you leave the door open.” She bent over as if to offer her cleavage for his perusal. “Our favorite bar is having a special band in tonight. I’m free.” Her long lashes swept over her blue eyes, then came up again.
“Maybe another time.” He took his hands out of his pockets. “Where is her office?”
Her smile froze on her face. “Third door on the right.”
His lungs squeezed as he went down the hall. He didn’t know what he was going to say to her. How could he know she was even telling the truth? His steps slowed as he neared the door, which stood open. He paused in the opening and studied the woman behind the desk. In her late twenties, she was a beautiful brunette with chiseled features and large brown eyes. Her hair brushed the shoulders of her neat navy suit.
He cleared his throat. “Rena Mae?”
Her wary gaze flickered over him. “What’s wrong with your voice?”
“Smoke inhalation from the bomb. Thank you for seeing me.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t trust you, so leave the door open.”
“Of course.” He stepped inside and stood opposite her desk. Not knowing what to do with his hands, he stuck them in the pockets of his jeans again. “I guess you heard I don’t remember anything.”
“So the rumors have it.” Her tone implied she didn’t believe it. “A convenient way to get out of your problems. What do you want anyway? If you want your old job back, forget it. You burned your bridges.”
He winced. “I heard I lost my job because of sexual harassment. What did I do?”
Her lip curled. “You expect me to believe you’ve actually forgotten? You forget whom you’re talking to here. I know quite well what you’re capable of.”
“But I don’t,” he said, keeping his voice even. “I’m trying to find out just who Jesse Hawthorne is. What I’ve found out so far shames me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”
“No. But I’d appreciate it if you told me the truth.”
She stood and walked to the window that looked out on a parking lot. Her gaze stayed on him, and she crossed her arms over her chest. Her movements were jerky, angry. “You were always making sexual innuendoes. At first I ignored them, but they got more blatant. Finally, one night when I was working late, you came through that door, shut it behind you, and grabbed me. If the janitor hadn’t been here, I believe you would have raped me. He heard me scream and came running. I doubt anyone would have believed me without his having seen you on top of me.”
Jesse felt like he might throw up. He swallowed down bile. He took his hands from his pockets, then put them back. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t remember any of this. Maybe this whole memory thing is a way to start over, to become a better man. I don’t want to be the kind of man who would attack a woman, that’s for sure.”
She turned from the window and studied his face. “The old Jesse never admitted what he’d done. He never said he was sorry.”
“I am sorry. Very sorry. Are you okay?” The room felt hot, close. The walls closed in on him, and he knew he was going to have to get out of there soon or risk being completely broken.
She shrugged. “Your actions have made it hard for me to trust anyone, I can tell you that. And I don’t work late anymore.”
He saw tears shimmering in her eyes and realized how he’d damaged her. “I-I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to go. I hope you can forgive me someday.” He bolted for the door and raced down the hall to the front door. Throwing it open, he stepped into the sunlight and inhaled gulps of fresh air. It didn’t help, so he stepped into the grass and vomited the contents of his stomach.
He loathed Jesse Hawthorne. If he could rip off this face, this personality, and become someone else, he’d do it in a minute. He wished he’d died in that explosion, not Liam. No wonder Alanna hated him. She probably knew the real Jesse. The one who preyed on women.
He took a couple more deep breaths and his nausea subsided. Once he quit trembling, he walked toward his car. When he reached it he heard the pealing of bells. The beauty of the noise transfixed him. He cocked his head and drank in the musical tones. Where did they come from? His gaze swept the neighborhood and he saw a steeple peeking over the rooftops. The church bells pealed again, and he began to walk toward the beckoning sound.