Jessie Slaymaker's Rules of Engagement (The Jessie Slaymaker Series Book 2) (15 page)

For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why he was being so pigheaded. It was such a stupid thing to fight about. Again. It was an argument based on pure hypotheticals. Was Jack about to become a father, or not? Jessie couldn’t see why he wouldn’t want to find out. If he knew, he could plan accordingly. But to not be in full possession of the facts, about something as big as this… it seemed entirely ludicrous to Jessie. How would he be able to carry on with his life not knowing? And seeming not to care either way? And how could he seriously expect Jessie to go on being with him when she knew what she knew?

Jessie felt caught in a trap. She knew in her heart of hearts that she couldn’t be willfully complicit in Jack’s ongoing ignorance. It just wasn’t her M.O. It also seemed that Jack wasn’t prepared to give an inch on this matter either. But what could she do? She could continue trying to convince him otherwise, but she had a feeling it was akin to flogging a dead horse. Jack was being unreasonably stubborn for the time being. Maybe he would come around in time, but this was something he had to figure out by himself, Jessie sadly concluded. This wasn’t something that could be fixed by sex. Not even great sex.

Jack had had a busy week. Despite his killer hangover from Saturday lasting the best part of two days, and the revelation and doom of what Jessie had told him, he’d successfully managed to distract himself and ploughed on with his plans for the bar’s relaunch. He’d been lucky and had been able to get new designs approved quickly, and the contractors were able to start in the next day or two. New furniture had been ordered and the stock was already in storage—so far, so good. He and Greg had agreed on an ambitious turnaround time of just two weeks, and it was a real race against time to get the bar back open again. A lengthy down time for any establishment was simply not a luxury one could afford, not with the rents in Hong Kong being so exorbitantly high.

Jack was fighting a battle between attempting to produce a quality product and meeting the need to reopen quickly. Even so, he was an experienced project manager and found himself enjoying the challenge. It had given him a purpose and a day job that took up all his time, well into the night. So much so that he’d been able to push the whole Sonia Shum baby story to the back recesses of his mind. He’d only once Googled her to see if the father was common knowledge yet. He wasn’t. Sonia was keeping mum on that little juicy tidbit, sending the local press into a frenzy of speculation. An unmarried pregnant society tycoon’s daughter was big news, or so it seemed. But still, Jack was determined to bury his head in the sand about his potential impending fatherhood. Sonia didn’t feel the need to get in touch with him, so he saw no reason to stir up that particular hornet’s nest.

However, things with Jessie had not been going well. Their relationship had been strained ever since the blow-up. They’d cohabited since, yet had barely spoken a word to each other. It was ridiculous. Jack knew it was ridiculous. Two highly intelligent adults were behaving like children. He hated that he’d let Sonia come between them, but neither of them were prepared to be the first to break the ice. There was a fundamental issue they disagreed on, and they were in a state of stasis until either one of them gave in or Sonia started to play an active role. And until one of those things happened, Jack made up his mind to do nothing.

Jack had taken to camping out on the sofa whenever he was at home—sleeping, working, and eating—only venturing into the bedroom and ensuite when Jessie had gone out. Jack suspected she’d been leaving extra early for work and returning home late just to avoid him.

When Friday came, Jack woke groggily from another uncomfortable night’s sleep on the sofa to see Jessie making tea in the kitchenette. She wasn’t wearing one of her usual sexy work dresses and heels. Instead she was casually dressed in a crisp white t-shirt and jeans. He loved Jessie’s work wardrobe, but he loved her even more in jeans. She always looked softer and more romantic in jeans. She looked particularly pretty that morning, he noted, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

‘I’m moving out today,’ she said as she saw he was awake. ‘The lease is valid for another fortnight on this place if you want to stay,’ she added. Her words and her tone were civil, but there was a coldness in her eyes.

‘So soon?’ Jack asked, unable to hide his surprise.

‘I think it’s for the best,’ Jessie said, taking a sip of tea and obscuring her face from him with her mug.

‘I’ll get up and help you move,’ Jack said, launching up off the sofa and grabbing his jeans.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Jessie called as he hot-footed it to the bathroom.

‘Give me five minutes,’ he shouted back.

When he came back to the living room, he half expected her to have gone already, but she was sat waiting patiently on the sofa, looking at some of the bar paperwork that was still strewn across the coffee table from the previous evening. She didn’t ask anything about it, just glanced across at her waiting bags, neatly stacked by the front door.

After an awkward taxi journey where their only dialogue had been to disagree about who would pay the fare, Jessie unlocked the door to her new home. Jack saw the slight slump in her shoulders as she dragged one of her cases over the threshold. He looked past her and was surprised by what he saw. From his vantage point just in the hallway, Jack was pretty sure he could see the entirety of Jessie’s new apartment. It was spotlessly clean and the furniture was modern and simple, but what struck him was the minuscule size of the place. It was clearly a studio apartment, and despite the clever use of space, there was only just about enough room to swing the proverbial cat. This was not the kind of place he had anticipated leaving Jessie in on the taxi ride over.

‘So what do you think?’ she asked, turning around and smiling brightly. He could tell she was trying to put a brave face on things, but he was positive this wasn’t something
she’d
anticipated when she’d decided to quit her lovely English home and move to Hong Kong. He knew she’d had a demotion of sorts, but he hadn’t realised things had been quite so bad.

‘It’s nice,’ he replied, carrying the rest of her bags in. ‘Cosy.’

‘Very funny. It’s fine for now,’ Jessie said as she took two paces across to a diminutive kitchenette which was even less equipped than the serviced apartment she’d just vacated. ‘Tea?’

‘Nah, you’re alright. I’ll let you get settled in,’ Jack said, turning to go.

‘Right you are,’ Jessie replied, turning to fill the kettle.

‘Jessie,’ Jack called, changing his mind and walking back into the flat. ‘Let me help you. Let me pay for something decent for you.’ Jessie turned around slowly and leaned her back against the kitchen countertop. She seemed to study him thoughtfully for a moment.

‘You know I can’t and would never let you do that,’ she said. ‘It may be a pokey walk-up, but it’s all that I can afford given recent events. I don’t want to get in over my head. And I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I’ve made my bed, and I need to lie in it.’

‘I thought you’d say that,’ he said, a small smile escaping his lips. ‘Speaking of which, where is the bed?’ he asked cheekily. Jessie nodded towards the sofa grumpily as she rummaged around in a cupboard for teabags.

‘I’ll be fine, Jack,’ she snapped at him when she finally stopped what she was doing and clocked him hovering.

‘Have it your way,’ Jack muttered, turning to leave. ‘I’ll text you, okay,’ he called over his shoulder before he trotted down the stairs. Jessie clearly didn’t want his help, and he wasn’t in the mood to beg her to accept his kindnesses.

As Jack closed the door on her new apartment, Jessie couldn’t help but feel it was symbolic of him closing the door on their relationship. As she stood in her diminutive new home she wanted to sob her eyes out, but the tears wouldn’t come. What was the point in feeling sorry for herself now? She was the one whose choices had put her in this position, and she had no one to blame but herself. She could have been more ballsy with her bank and insisted on them honouring the promotion she’d been promised, but she hadn’t. She’d accepted her new position numbly and had simply tried to make the best of it. That decision had put her in this flat—but it wasn’t the only choice she’d made recently that had ended her up here. She still wasn’t convinced she’d done the right thing telling Jack she didn’t want to live with him; that had been another one of her recent atypical spur-of-the-moment decisions. But she had done it, and that, combined with her unwavering stance on Jack’s impending fatherhood predicament, had resulted in her current tragic and lonely state.

‘No point crying over spilt milk,’ Jessie told herself as she swigged her tea.

She spent the best part of the next hour unpacking the last few bits of her belongings. It didn’t take long. It was only a small place, after all. Another hour passed and Jessie’s inherent make-do-and-mend attitude began to surface. She vowed to make the best of the situation she was in. She had no control over what was going on in Jack’s life, but she could try and improve her working situation at the bank. As other areas of her life seemed to be unsettled, she resolved to throw herself into her work even more than she had already. She was determined to make the powers-that-be see that they’d mistakenly overlooked and underestimated her. She was sure that if she worked hard, then someone would eventually notice and reward her accordingly. Not that that philosophy had really worked so well for her in the past, but that was something she chose not to dwell on.

By the end of the next week, she still hadn’t heard from Jack. The promised text was yet to materialise. Of course,
she
could have texted
him
in these days of equal opportunities and all, but she hadn’t. She didn’t know what to say, for starters. Instead she’d been faithful to her good intentions and had devoted the vast majority of her time to the bank. She hadn’t made any major breakthroughs on the professional front with Rachel, but it was still early days, she reassured herself.

It wasn’t all doom and gloom though, as there was something on the horizon that she really was looking forward to.

When Jessie got home on Friday at a respectable seven o’clock, there were two reasons for her to smile broadly, and both of them were on her doorstep. One was a huge mixed bouquet of roses, and the other was the man holding them: Tom. Lovely Tom, who had flown out to see her for a visit.

‘Thank you,’ Jessie said, beaming at him. ‘They’re beautiful.’

‘Not from me, I’m afraid,’ Tom said, raising an eyebrow. ‘I only brought duty-free,’ he added, waving a plastic bag, which clinked.

‘Oh,’ Jessie said, as she accepted Tom's slightly tentative peck on the cheek before sidestepping round him and unlocking the door.

‘Wow!’ Tom exclaimed as he craned his neck around the flowers. ‘This is cosy,’ he added.

‘Like I haven’t heard that before,’ Jessie replied, rolling her eyes. ‘It’s the first thing I say when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I say at night.’

‘Oh my, and here’s me thinking
I
was always on your mind,’ Tom joked as he shuffled a few things around and placed the flowers on a side table.

‘I thought we were going to meet at your hotel,’ Jessie said, ignoring his innuendo. With Jessie’s apartment dimensions being what they were, Tom was booked into a hotel in the city centre.

‘I wanted to surprise you. And obviously I had a sixth sense you were going to receive flowers from lover boy, and wanted to be here to stop you from overanalyzing the meaning of every word on the card.’

‘You read the card?’ Jessie asked, incredulous. ‘Is nothing private anymore?’

‘Priorities, Jessie. Where’s my hug?’ Tom asked as he inspected her up and down.

‘I’m sorry,’ Jessie replied, relaxing into Tom’s embrace. He smelled fresh and familiarly Tom-like, despite the long flight. ‘Thanks so much for coming. I really appreciate it.’

‘It’s okay. I wanted to be able to visualise you here in the big city,’ he said, releasing her a little awkwardly and scanning the room. It was the first proper physical contact they’d had since they’d separated. ‘My God, it
is
small though.’

‘Hey!’ Jessie said in mock offence as she gave him a playful shove. ‘Haven’t you ever heard that good things come in small packages? Plus, there are a lot of people here who are a lot worse off than me.’ Jessie pulled a couple of wine glasses out of a kitchen cabinet and a bottle out of the fridge.

‘I’ll do that,’ Tom said, taking over wine-pouring duties. ‘You go and admire your flowers.’

Doing as she was told, Jessie looked carefully at the flowers. They were beautiful. A variety of pastel-coloured roses that couldn’t help but make her smile. They were just so happy-looking. She plucked the miniature card and slowly opened up the envelope. Tom had been right. It was from Jack.

Good luck in your new home,

Best,

Jack

Jessie turned the card over to see if there was more. There wasn’t. That was it. That was all he had to say to her. The flowers were beautiful, but she couldn’t help the disappointment that pervaded her. The message was entirely impersonal, almost like he’d asked his PA to get something sent over.

‘Let’s see,’ Tom said, leaning over to read the message still in Jessie’s hand. ‘Is that it?’ he asked, pulling a face.

‘Yep, that’s it. It’s the thought that counts,’ Jessie said, tossing the card back on top of the bouquet and retrieving her glass of wine.

She kicked off her shoes and sat down comfortably on the sofa, motioning for Tom to come and sit next to her. ‘How was your flight?’ she asked.

It was her turn to inspect him carefully now. Jessie felt terribly guilty that, where Tom was concerned, it was pretty much her doing all the offloading, all the time. She knew she had a tendency to be self-obsessed in front of Tom, and she was determined to turn over a new leaf. At least for the duration of his visit. He didn’t want to be hearing about the ups and downs in the Jessie-and-Jack saga twenty-four seven. So she pushed the flowers and message from Jack to the back of her mind. This weekend was going to be about Tom.