Love Left Behind (36 page)

I laughed at Jackson's
eager expression, the boyishness of his enthusiasm reminding me of the Jackson
I used to know. We perused the menu and then Jackson ordered enough food for an
army. I flicked through the movies on demand as we waited for our food to
arrive, stopping on
Negative Exposure
,
Jackson's first movie.

"Should we watch
this?" I asked with a smile. "I hear the leading man is to die
for."

Jackson grinned but
shook his head. "The last thing I want to see is my ugly mug
tonight." He hesitated before continuing. "Have you seen it?"

"Sorry. I thought
it was best if I didn't see any of your movies because of our...complicated
past." Jackson nodded in understanding, and I glanced back at the TV,
trying to reconcile the fact that the grim-faced man on the screen was the same
Jackson sitting next to me. The Jackson beside me seemed like the old Jackson.
My Jackson. "How were you able to get the part back? I was surprised they
took you back after you just quit and left."

"Do you remember
Mark, my agent? He did a lot of groveling, promising that it would never happen
again. They also cut my salary." Jackson shrugged, taking the remote and
changing the channel so that his image was no longer on the screen. "I
really didn't care at that point. It was all Mark's wheeling and dealing."

The conversation was
coming dangerously close to what had happened between us in the past so I
changed the subject. "What are you working on next?"

"I have a few
offers but I haven't accepted anything yet. I've been working non-stop since
Negative Exposure
and I think it's time
to take a break."

We were interrupted by
the arrival of room service and I gaped at all the dishes as Jackson signed for
it. I looked at him when he walked back into the living room after the hotel
employee left. "Okay, even
I
think
this is a ridiculous amount of food. There's no way we can finish this."

Jackson winked at me as
we settled into the sofa instead of the dining room. It felt much more
comfortable and cozy to eat in the living room with the room service cart
wheeled in front of us. "You have to keep your strength up. I have plans
for you later tonight."

I rolled my eyes but
felt my body tighten in anticipation. I couldn't seem to get enough of Jackson.
I had never felt this constant state of arousal with anyone else and I wanted
to get my fill tonight. It would need to last me a lifetime.

We watched a light
comedy instead of Jackson's movie while we ate, the ridiculous hijinks of the
characters making me laugh and relax. I gladly followed Jackson into the
bedroom as the hour grew late, reveling in his mind-blowing ministrations of
pleasure.

Afterwards, we lay in
bed cradled together with my back against Jackson's front, his arms wrapped
around me. I didn’t want to fall asleep because I knew it would make morning
come quicker. And morning would mean us parting. Jackson didn't fall asleep
either. He was still brushing his lips against my neck and caressing my hip
with his hand when my eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion finally taking over.

I was disoriented the
next morning when I opened my eyes, scanning my surroundings. I felt extremely
warm and realized that Jackson was still wrapped around me. I turned around in
his arms and saw him watching me, a small smile on his lips. Despite his smile,
he looked tired and worn out and I wondered if he had gotten any sleep.

"Good morning,
sweetheart."

"Good
morning," I replied, my voice hoarse from just waking up. As much as I
wanted to melt against him, I needed to start putting distance between us now.
It was the only way I could walk away.

I broke the circle of
his embrace, watching a frown flit across his face as I rose, grabbing my robe
from the floor and shrugging it on.

"Do you want
breakfast?" Jackson asked, still lying in bed. The sheet was draped across
his hips, his muscled chest a stark contrast to the white sheets. His dark hair
was disheveled and he had a shadow of a beard on his face. He looked rakishly
handsome and totally irresistible. I definitely needed to make my escape as
soon as possible.

"No, I think I
overdid it with dinner last night. I'm going to take a quick shower and then I
should go."

Jackson's jaw tightened
as he rose from the bed and I had to force myself not to lower my gaze on his
naked body. I waited for him to protest but he just nodded his head abruptly,
stalking out of the bedroom. I couldn't help watching him walk away, the
muscles in his legs and buttocks flexing as he stormed out.

I sighed and entered
the bathroom, taking a quick shower and pulling on my clothes from the day
before except for my panties which I shoved into my pocket. I felt exposed
wearing shorts with no underwear, especially since they were so short and
white, but my panties had gotten soaked with my arousal.

When I left the
bedroom, Jackson was sitting at the breakfast table wearing his clothes from
yesterday, including his cap that he wore low so I couldn't get a good read of
his expression. He was drinking a cup of coffee and motioned towards the
kitchen. "There's more coffee if you want it." His voice was
expressionless, showing neither anger nor sadness. His nonchalant attitude
helped me shore up my defenses, telling myself it was good to end this with no
emotion.

"No thanks. I
should get going." I walked over to Jackson and stopped next to the table,
trying to formulate what to say next. I grew nervous as Jackson continued
sitting there, not raising his head. His face was blocked from view by the bill
of his cap and I had no idea what he was feeling.

"I...I hope
everything goes well for you," I stammered, grasping at the right words to
say. I forced a laugh. "Maybe I'll start going to see your movies now.
Just one more ticket to help boost your box office profits, although I doubt
you'll need it." I grew more nervous as Jackson didn't respond, didn't
even look up.

"Well...bye,
Jackson," I said softly, not wanting to continue talking to a
non-responsive statue.

"Bye, Emma,"
Jackson replied quietly, his voice still devoid of any emotion. I turned
around, picked up my purse and left, shutting the door softly behind me. Our
parting this morning was not what I had expected. A small part of me had been
anticipating Jackson begging me to stay, telling me that he was sorry for what
he had done to me in the past, and that he wanted to be with me. I laughed
humorlessly as the elevator whisked me down to the lobby, feeling foolish about
my hopes. Jackson Reynard had gotten exactly what he wanted and now he was
through with me. He had played the part of doting lover yesterday and I had
participated in the ruse. I didn't blame him for it, we had both been
pretending, but now it was time for reality.

There was a chill in
the morning air even though it was the beginning of August and I shivered in my
inadequate clothing. The cab ride was mercifully quick as the streets were
empty this Sunday morning. There was a quietness to the city, as if it were
still asleep, which added to my melancholy. It was as if the city sensed my
dejected mood and was matching my emotion.

I spent the rest of the
day in my apartment, torturing myself by ordering
Negative Exposure
through an online movie rental site. I could
understand why Jackson had shot to fame after this movie. He was amazing in it,
a conflicted hero with a troubled past, struggling to make moral decisions
against a tide of government corruption. It was an exciting movie with a lot of
action, but what drew me in were the quiet moments, when Jackson's character
wrestled with making the right choices. His stark desperation seemed real and I
could see the pain in his eyes when he realized his mistakes. He had a love interest
in the movie, Mason Jennings, a breathtakingly beautiful brunette. I couldn't
help feeling jealous when I watched their love scenes, even though I knew it
wasn't real. Before, when I had seen Jackson and Claire kissing during their
play, I had naively just smiled, proclaiming that they were just acting. Now I
knew it had been more than that.

When Mason Jennings'
character turned out to be a traitor working for the corrupt government, I
couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at Jackson's betrayal, even if
it was his fictional character that was duped. I watched the movie multiple
times, drinking in the sight of Jackson, knowing that I was being
self-destructive.

I felt pathetic when I
jumped every time my phone rang, but Jackson never called. Days blended into
weeks and by the time the crisp autumn air descended on New York, I was back in
a routine and not checking my phone compulsively. I had stopped looking up
Jackson online and studiously avoided any entertainment news shows, but I
couldn't help catching glances of him on magazine covers. There were reports
that there was trouble in Jackson's relationship with Candace with rumors that
they had split.

It was a gusty autumn
morning when I passed by a newsstand on my way to work and saw a picture of
Jackson on the front cover of a gossip magazine, his head down and his hands in
his pockets with the headline
Jackson
Reynard depressed and heartbroken?
emblazoned on the front.

I couldn't resist
picking up the magazine, jolted by the fact that the picture looked as if it
were taken in New York. I wondered if he was back, not knowing how recent the
picture had been taken. I flipped through the pages until I got to the article
about Jackson. Apparently, he had been spotted in various locations throughout
New York, looking forlorn and depressed. It fueled the gossip that he and
Candace Stile had broken up, although their publicists had denied them ever
having been together. According to the magazine, the pictures of Jackson had
been taken recently and my pulse quickened at the thought of Jackson in New
York.

I sighed, dismayed that
I was still fixated on Jackson. I forced myself to put the magazine down,
dodging the censorious glance of the newsstand owner when I didn't buy the
magazine.

Work was a welcome
distraction, as was Drew's invitation to lunch. We had grown even closer over
the last few weeks and I was grateful for his friendship.

We decided to take a
leisurely lunch instead of a quick bite since we both had open afternoons.
Celeste booked a table for us at an upscale seafood restaurant nearby and I
breathed a sigh of relief when we settled in at our table, the murmurings of
business lunches around us filling the large space.

"It feels nice to
actually catch my breath and eat a decent meal," I said wryly after we had
ordered. "Much better than downing a sandwich while looking over market
reports."

"It's good to get
away from the office sometimes," Drew agreed. "Especially with
Celeste breathing down my neck all the time. The floodgates seemed to have
opened ever since I asked her about you, and now she thinks she has a right to
know about my personal life." Drew grinned wryly. "Just yesterday she
was asking me if I got enough fiber in my diet."

I burst out laughing,
shaking my head at Celeste's typical behavior. Drew was right about Celeste
invading his private life. She had previously respected the boundaries Drew had
drawn in their professional relationship, but even I had noticed the change in
him since we had first met. He was much more laid back and less intense,
willing to let little things go with an indulgent smile. Celeste insisted she
had never seen Drew like this, and she was convinced that I had something to do
with the change, but I believed it had more to do with Celeste barreling into his
life. Now that the nature of their relationship had changed, Celeste was able
to breathe life into his somewhat stolid lifestyle.

I felt a shadow pass
over us and I looked up, expecting to see the waiter with our food. My smile
disappeared when I saw Jackson staring at me, looking unamused. Despite my
shock, I drank in the sight of him greedily. He was wearing dark grey pants
that were tailored perfectly for his body and a black belt showing off his flat
stomach. His crisp white oxford shirt displayed his broad shoulders, a contrast
to his tanned skin. A lock of dark brown hair fell on his forehead, above
piercing green eyes that pinned me to my seat.

"Emma," he
bit out, a muscle twitching in his cheek. "This is a surprise."

"Jackson," I
said, trying to gain control of my emotions. "I...didn't expect to see you
again."

Jackson glanced at
Drew, whose eyebrows were raised in surprise. It was obvious that Drew
recognized Jackson. Actually, it was glaringly obvious that everyone around us
recognized Jackson. The tables around us had quieted as people leaned in
eagerly to overhear our conversation. Jackson was right about New Yorkers. They
didn't flock to celebrities but they couldn't hide their avid interest.

"That's
apparent," Jackson said flatly, as his gaze settled back on me.

"Well...it was
good seeing you," I stammered, wanting Jackson to leave our table as
quickly as possible.

Jackson cocked an
eyebrow in challenge. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

Drew cleared his throat
and stood, drawing both of our gazes to him. His surprise over recognizing
Jackson had disappeared, replaced with a look of speculation.

"I'm Drew
Stephens," he said as he held out his hand, looking at Jackson with a less
than approving look. It was hard to miss Jackson's antagonistic tone.

"We work
together," I chimed in quickly as I watched Jackson stiffly take Drew's
hand. I couldn't help comparing the two as they stood across from each other.
Jackson was taller but Drew was wider, as brawny as Jackson was leanly muscled.
Drew looked decidedly masculine with broad features that conveyed a sense of
power and control. Jackson was pure male beauty, his straight nose and firm
full lips gracing a face that radiated intelligence and intensity. They were
polar opposites and were now staring each other down.