All or Nothing (46 page)

“I don't think that will work...”

“I'll give you a ride.”

“Oh, you don't have to do that.”

“But I want to. Come on. Where are you going? Early shift at Mulligan's?”

“No. Look, you can't drive me. You can't.”

“If you're late, you won't get there on time on public transit. Besides, I'm playing courier today. I'll happily courier you wherever you want to go.”

“But...” The truth was that Jen didn't want to tell Zach where she was going.

“Jen, unless you're going to Timbuktu, it's not a problem. Come on, you're not putting me out. I'm offering.” Zach strode toward the red Neon, which Jen now saw was parked at the curb. Roxie was in the back seat. She saw Jen and barked. “That's the bark of joy,” Zach said. “You can't let Roxie down now.”

Jen locked the door behind herself, knowing she'd lost. She'd get him to drop her off close to the clinic, but not right at the door. It would save her time and wouldn't give her secret away. It was a rationalization and Jen knew it. She could use a dose of Zach's irrepressible optimism.

She spoke to Roxie through the back window—which Zach had rolled down for her—and nearly got licked to death. Zach opened the door for Jen and she got in, laughing as Roxie nuzzled the back of her neck.

“She likes you,” Zach said as he got in.

“I hope so. It would be a bit weird if this was how she greeted people she didn't like.”

He laughed and Jen felt better. “Go on, tell me that you missed me. That you're not sleeping nights because you're pining away for me.”

Jen scoffed, because she knew he expected it. “If I admitted that, it would only encourage you.”

“And we've agreed already that I'm incorrigible,” Zach said with false solemnity. “Should I sing?”

“No, please don't.”

He clucked his tongue, making a chicken sound, and Jen found herself glad to be in his company again. The car seemed full with the three of them, because it pretty much was. She gave him an intersection, lied about being late for a class, and he didn't question her. Once they were en route and he'd scolded Roxie for steaming up the windows—which had no discernible effect—he tapped the box with a fingertip. “Go on, open it.”

“I should be the one who's curious, not you.”

“But you aren't, and I know you should be. Go on, it's good. I know because I packed it.”

“It's probably booby-trapped,” Jen said, giving the box a shake. She was curious, although she wasn't sure she should be. It couldn't be a print of one of his photographs and she couldn't think of what else he would give her.

“Quit thinking and start tearing,” Zach counseled.

Jen opened the outer envelope and pulled out the box inside, her heart stopping cold at its distinctive turquoise color. It was a Tiffany box, but not one for a ring. It might have held a necklace or a bracelet because it was large and flat.

Jen couldn't think of a thing to say. There was suddenly not quite enough air in the car. They stopped at a red light and she turned to meet his gaze. She stared at him for a long potent moment, thinking of the things they'd done together, thinking about how much she'd like to do some of them again.

Zach seemed to be thinking similar things. The air was electric between them.

She licked her lips without meaning to do so. Zach caught his breath and put the car into gear, sending it skipping into the intersection as the light turned green.

“You might not have missed me, but I've missed you,” he muttered.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I shouldn't have just left after Christmas night.”

“Run, I think is the correct verb,” Zach said, showing some irritation. “You didn't leave, you ran.”

“You're just mad because I beat you to it.”

“I wasn't going to run,” he said so firmly that she half-believed it.

“You would have tossed me out, then.”

“Not a chance.“ He winked at her. “You ran, Jen, maybe because you didn't have all of the information.”

“You're going to tell me that there's more info inside.”

“Pretty much. Open the box.”

“I can't imagine what you're up to,” she said, turning the box in her hands. It was light and didn't rattle.

Maybe it was empty. A fake present to commemorate fake dates.

“There would be one good way to find out.”

Fair enough. Jen untied the silver ribbon and opened the box. To her surprise, there was an invitation nestled in the tissue paper inside. It was gilt-edged but not stuffy, the edge of the card cut in a funky pattern.

The Holland Mercer Gallery

cordially invites you to attend

Before and After: A Retrospective

a new exhibit of photographs by Zachary

January 23 to February 14, 2007

Artist's Reception – January 22 – 8:00 P.M.

There was a telephone number at the bottom of the card to R.S.V.P.

Jen looked at Zach in surprise. “Is this Zachary you?”

Zach nodded grimly. “The very same.”

“It doesn't have your surname.”

“That would be the point.”

“I don't understand.”

Zach frowned, more serious as Jen had ever seen him. “A lot of things have happened for me—and not happened for me—because of my family name. My father and mother both have lots of connections. I wanted to do something myself, to see what I could accomplish myself, without anyone easing the way or cutting me slack because of who my father was.”

“You wanted to be assessed on your own merit.”

“And it's scaring the crap out of me, by the way.” He flashed her a confident grin, making her doubt that anything could scare the crap out of him.

Jen turned the invitation over thoughtfully. “And the gallery agreed to that, when they decided to show your work?”

“They don't know my surname. I never told them.”

“So you got the show—”

“—the old-fashioned way. I took my photographs to an old teacher, who had once challenged me to make something of myself.” He smiled ruefully and spared her a glance. “Unlike anyone else I know.”

Jen felt herself blush. “I'm sorry that I said what I said...”

“Don't be. You were right. Anyway, Mr. Nicholson knows Tom Holland, who agreed to look at my portfolio. I got lucky: Tom not only liked my work but he had a late cancellation which would have left him with empty walls. One of his artists changed to another gallery and he was scrambling to put something together.”

“You had enough work for the show?”

“Hardly!” Zach laughed. “Where do you think I've been these past two weeks? I've been killing myself to get enough done to be framed. And now, it's in Tom's hands. I just have to show up and sparkle at the preview.” He took a deep breath, as if he was nervous, which Jen knew had to be an impossibility. She'd never met anyone more confident in her life. His voice dropped low enough to make her shiver. “I'd like it if you could be there, too, Jen.”

Jen swallowed and looked down. “I might have to work,” she lied, knowing that she might have an even more pressing engagement.

With an oncologist.

“And I'm making a personal appeal,” Zach said impatiently. “I'll talk to Murray if you want. I'll drive you to work when you need to leave.”

“You'd leave your own launch party?”

He nodded tersely. He stopped at another red and gave her a hot glance. “I'd really like you to be there.”

It was hard to think that he was putting her on, his manner was so sincere, but Jen had to ask. “Why?”

Zach shrugged and she guessed that his answer would only be part of the truth. “It's kind of your fault, isn't it?” he said lightly. “You challenged me and this is the result. Don't you think you should check it out?”

Jen watched him for a moment, thought about what he'd said and guessed. “You're really worried about this.”

“Does it show?”

“Not really.”

“Good! Never let them see you sweat, right Roxie?”

Jen put the invitation carefully back into the box, smiling a bit that he'd gone to some trouble to get a Tiffany box. “What does your family think of it?”

“I don't know.”

“Will they be there?”

He spared her a wry look. “
Everyone
will be there to see me fall on my face. Trust me. They've been waiting for this moment for a while.”

“I doubt that you'll fall on your face.” She spoke softly, wishing that she could be there. Maybe she'd go see the show on her own. “I'm sure it will be great.”

“You make it sound as if you're turning me down.”

Jen reached for the door handle as they reached the corner near the intersection she'd named. “You can let me out here.”

“I'm not stopping until you R.S.V.P.”

“You have to stop.”

“I can go three hundred times around the block. Just watch.”

“I'm late!”

“And I'm stubborn. Jen, I love you. If you want to ditch me, that's fine, but I want to show you the change you've made in my life first. If nothing else, it could give you a sense of accomplishment.”

She didn't say anything, just looked out the window, wondering whether she dared to believe him.

“Hey, I don't plan fake weddings with just anybody.” Zach glanced her way. “Did you think I just said that at Christmas to get you to come back to my place?”

“It did occur to me.”

Zach swore.

“It's not that crazy,” she argued. “It's been a couple of weeks, Zach, and I haven't heard from you...”

“And have I heard from you?”

“I didn't confess to being in love.”

“True enough.” He gave her a hard look. “Does that mean you're not?” He looked very unhappy with her, more frustrated and irritated than Jen would have believed possible. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but then, she didn't want to admit to anything that could be used against her.

She was, after all, running late.

“Okay, I'll ask you an easier question,” Zach said, his annoyance clear. “Will you come to the show?”

Jen pushed a hand through her hair in indecision. She was acutely aware of what Zach wanted to say, but couldn't fight her own sense that it was foolish to promise what she might not be able to deliver.

Maybe it would be better to hurt his feelings now than to risk him hurting hers. Maybe the simplest answer was the best one. “Maybe I need to check my Day Timer,” she said, unable to just decline.

“Maybe you should do it now,” Zach growled.

“Maybe I'll get out the car anyway.”

“You'll have to jump.” He was angry. There was no doubt about it, and Jen was sure he wasn't putting it on. His eyes were flashing and he was changing gears more roughly than he usually did.

“You really want me to be there?”

“Why else would I invite you?” he demanded, his voice rising. “Why else would I go to the trouble of trying to get your attention...” He turned to face her, his eyes flashing. “Yes. I would like you to be there. This show wouldn't have happened without you kicking my butt. It only seems right that you get to see what you've done.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It isn't meant to be.” He slipped the car into a parallel parking spot, then caught her hand before she could bolt. “What the hell are we doing at this intersection? Tell me the truth this time, Jen.” He spoke with such conviction that Jen was frightened by his perceptiveness. “There's nothing in this area that could have anything to do with one of your classes.”

“You don't know that. You don't even know what I'm taking.”

“You're upset and I'd like to think it's not because I finally turned up on your doorstep. Okay, I should have called. I'm sorry. I wanted to surprise you with something that was done. I wanted to show you that I'd changed. I wanted to impress you with a big gesture.” He arched a brow. “It's working brilliantly, I can tell, so I'm hoping there's another problem here. Is something going on, Jen?”

It was tempting to admit the truth to him, but Jen chose not to do so. “I...I'm just late,” she said, knowing that her excuse was lame. “I hate being late.”

“And you stink at lying,” Zach said quietly. He sat back and watched her, his expression inscrutable. “Okay, so there's someone else. Okay, you're throwing me back.” Jen stared at him, shocked by the conclusion he'd made and by how hurt he appeared to be. “But please come to the show, Jen, even so. For old times' sake, if nothing else.”

Jen opened her mouth to correct him, then closed it again. Maybe it was easier this way. “I'll see what I can do.” When he looked lethal, she offered a bit more. “I'll try my best. Really.”

Zach was simmering. He watched her for a long electric moment and Jen felt herself respond to him. As previously, she wanted to make him smile, but it was much worse this time. She wanted to make him smile by making love to him. She wanted to confess her own love for him. She wanted to tell him what was happening and to have him pledge to stand beside her the whole way.

But it was too much to ask and Jen knew it.

She wouldn't ask so he couldn't refuse. She turned to open the car door, heard him swear, and walked away, her vision blinded with tears. His car didn't move for a long time. Jen knew it because she heard Roxie whimper and felt Zach's gaze boring into her back. She brushed away her tears.

Why did doing the right thing seem so wrong?

Jen stopped and looked back. Zach was still sitting in his parked car, watching her. When she paused, Roxie barked but Zach didn't move.

Then she knew that it felt wrong because it
was
wrong. Once upon a time, she had taken chances. Once upon a time, she had been impulsive. Once upon a time, she had dared to ask for what she wanted.