The Freelancer – Chapter 73

I knocked on Jenna’s door slightly past seven.  I took Collin’s words to heart.  It was all for the best, but that didn’t make it any easier.  My heart didn’t have an off switch the way hers did.

“Peace offering,” I said, handing her a single stem red rose tied to her cell phone once she opened the door.  “I took the liberty of programming my numbers in there so you’d be able to reach me anytime.  Can I come in?”

“Of course.  Where did you find this?  I’ve been looking all over for it today.”

“You left it on my coffee table last night.  I was going to return it to you this morning, but I left pretty early.”

“I know.  Four-thirty.  You weren’t kidding about having an early morning,” she replied as she headed to the kitchen.

How the hell did she know about that?

“You were up?” Was there any chance my voice sounded as nonchalant as I hoped?

“I haven’t been sleeping well.  I got up at two to start working.”

“You must be exhausted.”

“A little, but I have good news.”

You aren’t working with a terrorist against me, I thought.  Instead, I asked, “What’s that?”

“It’s done.  My book’s done.  I just emailed it to Chet and my editor before you knocked.”

I wrapped my arms around her in a hug.  “That’s great news, Jenna.  I’m happy for you.”

She pulled away from me and walked over to the refrigerator.  After she rummaged around for a minute she said, “I guess.”

I stared at her, trying to figure out what game she was playing.

“I thought you’d be a little happier about it than that.  You seemed worried about it on Sunday.”

“It’s no big deal,” she replied once she’d retrieved a soda and closed the refrigerator.  That was strange.  She normally didn’t drink anything but water, tea and coffee – not that I could pretend that I really knew her. Maybe this was just her cover persona starting to slip.

“What the hell is the matter with you?”

As soon as the words left my mouth I knew they were a mistake.  She spun around and looked at me, her eyes cold.  Without speaking, she tried to walk past me, but I stopped her by placing a gentle had on her elbow.

“Fine.  You.  You, Jackson.  You’re what’s wrong with me.  Just let go of me and get out!”

I let her storm into her bedroom, where I heard the sound of the television being turned on.  I didn’t leave; I knew this game.  I hadn’t played since right before my divorce.  I walked down the hall into her room and leaned against the doorframe.  This was the part where she’d tell me I was emotionally unavailable. Guess I’m the same guy undercover that I am when my job is out on the table.

“I told you to leave,” she said as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

“I know you did.  I’ll leave when you tell me why you hate me all of the sudden.”

“I don’t hate you.  I love you.”

Even for a terrorist, that was a low blow.

“You love me,” I whispered.

“Yes and I can’t deal with it right now.”

I sat on the edge of the bed next to her.  “You have to know that you aren’t making sense right now.”

“I know that.  I’ve been having a horrible week so far and you aren’t helping.” Her voice broke. “I just want you to leave, Jackson…please.”

“Jenna, please tell me what I did.”

“Fine.  This weekend was the most amazing few days of my entire life.”

“Mine too,” I admitted.  It was true. They were…until I got the call about her last night.

“I thought everything was fine when you left here on Monday morning, but now it’s like you don’t even want to be around me.  I can’t read you and I don’t know if I want to try anymore.  I’m almost too worn out to care.”

I thought about that for a moment before I spoke.  “I wasn’t upset with you last night and I’m sorry I took it out on you.  I got some bad news about work right before you came over.”

She snorted.  “What, an accounting widget crisis?”

“They might transfer me back to D.C.,” I lied, well, half lied.

Her face softened.  “But you just got here.  Why now?”

“It’s not definite yet.  The acquisition isn’t going as planned and I was warned they’re looking for a scapegoat.  If the client isn’t happy with me, I’ll get sent back.”

“When will you know?” Jenna asked, voice quiet.

“Next week.”

Jenna threw her arms around my neck in a fierce hug.  “I’m so sorry, Jackson.  I had no idea you were dealing with all that.”

I smoothed her hair down her back.  “You couldn’t have known.”

“You know I can write from anywhere, right?” she asked.

“You would want to come with me?”

She released my neck and pulled away enough to look me in the eye.  “It’s an option…if you want it to be.”

Being so close to Jenna again felt good.  She just said the one thing I would have killed to hear from her a few days ago.  I made the conscious decision to push what I knew about her from my mind. She wasn’t working with the enemy.

At least for tonight.

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