The Mighty Storm (62 page)

“
Yes, I
’
m in the car, with
–
something and I figured, you wouldn
’
t want
–
you know.”

“
Who the fuck are you being so cryptic with?” I hear Jake
’
s voice loud and clear in the background.

My heart starts to hurt just hearing his voice.

Oh God. I miss him so much.

No I don
’
t. I hate him.

I think.

I don
’
t know.

Crap.

Look at me. I hear his voice, and my head turns to mush. How the hell am I going to manage going to New York and seeing him for a whole day.

No, I
’
ll be fine. I can do it for Vicky and the magazine. That
’
s all that matters.

“
I
’
m talking with my boyfriend,” Stuart says to him. “Mind your own fuckin
’
business.”

“
Since when have you got a boyfriend?” I can almost hear the pause and Jake
’
s mind working, and I just know what
’
s coming next. “Is that Tru on the phone?”

My heart stops dead in my chest.

“
No,” Stuart says to him. “I
’
m gonna have to go lover,” he says down the line to me, “my ass of a boss won
’
t let me
–
Jesus Christ, Jake! What the hell do you think you
’
re doing?!” I hear the tussle, and Stuart
’
s voice fading away, as Jake wrestles the phone from off him.

Any second now I
’
m going to hear his voice.

I want to hang up. No I don
’
t.

My hand is clamped around the phone, suddenly slick with sweat.

“
Tru is that you?” Jake
’
s deep voice comes breathy down the line.

My chest tightens. I can
’
t speak.

“
It is you isn
’
t it? That
’
s why you
’
re not saying anything.”

I take a deep breath, and exhale, “Yes.”

“
Tru, oh God, baby, I miss you so much,” his words come out in a flurry and I can hear the relief in his voice. “Please let me see you. I need to talk to you. I
’
m so sorry for everything. Please just let me see you.” His voice starts to break down the line.

Tears fill my eyes.

I force them back with blinks, and then I steel myself to speak. “I
’
m coming to New York in a few days to cover the show.”

“
You are? Oh thank god. Thank you, baby. You won
’
t regret this, we can talk and sort all of this out and
–”

“
No Jake. We
’
re not sorting anything out, because there
’
s nothing to sort out. I
’
m coming to cover the show because you
’
re forcing me to. Anything else, you and I, we
’
re done. For good. There
’
s nothing to discuss.”

“
Tru, no, please.”

My heart feels so heavy in my chest it
’
s practically labouring into my stomach.

I force a strength which I don
’
t own right now, and maybe never will again, and taking a deep breath, I say, “You think I don
’
t know what you
’
re doing, forcing me to come to New York like this so you can try and feed me your bullshit lies. Using Vicky and the magazine to get to me. It
’
s low Jake, even for you. And if you thought for one moment this would give you the chance to fix things, somehow make me care for you again, then you
’
re sadly mistaken. All you are doing is making it easier for me to hate you more than I already do.” Another deep breath. “Please ask Stuart to email the flight and accommodation details to me. Goodbye, Jake.”

“
Tru, no! Wait! You
’
ve got it all wrong! Just talk to me, hear me out on this,
please
.”

I still for a minute.

I
’
m wobbling again. I close my eyes and see the image of him in bed with her.

“
No.”

I hang the phone up on him.

Dropping it to the floor, I start sobbing into my hands.

We land in at JFK at 10pm. Simone is with me. I was going to come alone as I
’
m only doing a short stop over. But Simone didn
’
t want me to come alone. She was insistent. And she said she was going to come and see Denny soon anyway, so she was killing two birds.

Dave
’
s in the airport waiting for us.

“
Hey, Tru,” he smiles down at me.

“
Hi, Dave.” I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek.

He looks at me surprised, and I see a little flush rise in his cheeks.

“
I
’
ve missed you,” I say to him. It
’
s true I have. I
’
ve missed all of them.

“
Well, we
’
ve all missed you here too.” I get the distinct impression he
’
s referring to Jake in that sentiment.

“
Hi, Simone,” he says taking both our cases from us. “The car
’
s just up front.”

Threading my arm through Simone
’
s we follow Dave out to the car.

Denny is in the car waiting for us – well Simone, not me obviously. And she
’
s a little more than overjoyed to see him.

It makes me hurt.

I
’
m happy for her of course, but it just reminds me of the time I landed in Stockholm and Jake was waiting in the car for me. The day we swapped our friendship bracelets.

I touch it on my wrist. I haven
’
t been able to take it off yet. I
’
m still wearing the Tiffany necklace too.

I will take them both off, soon, I
’
m just not ready to yet.

A little part of me wondered if Jake would be waiting in the car for me, and I hate that I felt such a strong smart of disappointment that he wasn
’
t.

He hasn
’
t tried to make any form of contact with me in the last few days. No flowers. No letters. He
’
s been completely quiet.

Maybe he
’
s finally got the message after I told him on the phone.

Good, I’m glad.

I think.

Crap.

I sit up front with Dave, to give the lovebirds a little time to themselves in the back, on the ride to the hotel, and I chat with him about everything from the weather to sports, making sure to avoid any conversation that could lead to Jake.

We
’
re staying at the Mandarin Oriental. Dave parks up in the hotel car park, and insists on taking my case up to my suite for me. Denny
’
s all set with Simone
’
s. He
’
s so sweet to her.

Denny and Simone are staying on the 52
^nd
floor, so they get out of the lift first. I
’
m on the 53
^rd
.

Simone hugs me goodbye as she
’
s getting out of the lift.

“
Will you be okay?” she says into my ear. “I can stay with you if you want.”

“
Don
’
t be silly, I
’
ll be fine,” I say releasing myself from her embrace. “Go have fun with Denny and I
’
ll see you tomorrow.”

“
You
’
re sure?”

“
I
’
m sure.”

She reluctantly backs out of the lift. “You know where I am if you need me.”

“
I do, now go … night, Denny.” I smile at him.

“
See you later, Tru.”

Dave lets go of the hold button, and I wave to Simone as the doors close.

We go up one more floor, and then we
’
re at mine.

Dave wheels my case along the hall for me.

“
This is you,” he says, stopping outside the double door marked Presidential Suite.

What the hell?

He puts the key card in and pushes open one of the doors for me.

“
I
’
m staying in here?” I give him a confused look.

Dave nods, and hands me the key card.

“
Alone?”

“
Yes, Tru,” he chuckles.

I know I
’
ve stayed in these kinds of suites before, but the Presidential Suite is generally the best suite the hotel has to offer. It
’
s always the one Jake stays in.

“
But … t
his is too much for just me,” I mumble, poking my head in through the door.

I gasp.

It
’
s bloody massive. Bigger than any I
’
ve ever stayed in with Jake before.

I look back at Dave, wide eyed.

He shrugs, smiling. “Stuart books the rooms.”

On Jake
’
s orders.

“
I
’
ll have to thank him, a lot,” I mutter, taking my case from Dave.
“
Thanks for picking me up from the airport.” I smile up at him.

“
My pleasure.”

“
So
I guess I
’
ll see you tomorrow.”

“
You will,” he smiles. “Goodnight Tru.”

“
Night,” I reply.

Dave backs up and starts to walk down the hall, then he stops a few feet away and turns to look at me.

“
I know it
’
s not my place, and I don
’
t mean to speak out of turn, but for what it
’
s worth, I don
’
t believe what that girl
’
s claiming. I
’
ve worked for Jake for a long time and I
’
ve seen a lot, and I also have a knack for knowing when people are lying
–
something I learned in my years as a marine, and in my opinion Jake
’
s telling the truth.” He presses his lips together giving me one last small smile, then turns and walks away.

I close the door behind me and lean up against it.

Everyone believes Jake. I think even Simone does to be quite honest, but she hasn
’
t said. So it seems it is only me who doesn
’
t believe him. But then I was the one who found him in bed with her.

And Dave was a marine? How did I not even know that?

But still, don
’
t digress and don
’
t waiver Tru. Trust your own judgement. You know what you saw.

Jake
’
s a womaniser. Everyone knows that. It
’
s who he is, so why in the world would he ever change for you.

Pulling my case through the suite, I park it up in the humongous bedroom, and that
’
s when I see a light blue gift box sitting on the equally humongous bed.

Jake.

I go over and sit on the edge of the bed beside it. Tentatively I lift the lid off the box.

Inside is a brand new iPhone. There
’
s also a little card in the box. I open it and read:

This is to replace the one I broke. It
’
s registered to your old number. I set it up for you with your ring tone.

J. x

With trembling fingers I pick the phone up, dropping the card back into the box.

I can
’
t believe he bought me a brand new iPhone
–
no, actually I can, this is Jake we
’
re talking about.

Well I
’
m not keeping it. He can
’
t buy me back with fancy gadgets.

It is pretty though.

I might just turn it on, see what it
’
s like, you know, in case I decide to buy myself one after I
’
ve given him this one back.