The Guy Next Door (19 page)

“You know that you will always be the most important person in my life, don’t you?” Gail asked.

Holly picked at the paper label on her water bottle. “I know, Mom.”

“You need to be absolutely clear about that, honey, because it turns out I really like this dating thing.”

Holly looked up and blinked in surprise. Gail touched her daughter’s hand.

“Something’s happened to me here, Holly. I think I’ll be going back to Beaverdale ready to start living again. My life is going to be different, and I hope Jesse will be part of it. I want you to be okay with that.”

“Did I miss anything?” Hannah returned from the
restroom, and she plopped back onto her spot on the bench. Holly glanced at Gail one last time and lowered her eyes. “Not a thing,” she said.

J
ESSE HAD A STRING OF
surprises lined up for Gail, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun in the pursuit of someone else’s happiness.

His buddy with the little house on a private beach up in Pirates Cove told him he was out of town but the house key was in the usual place. “Knock yourself out,” he’d said. “Beer’s in the fridge.” Lelinda had hooked Jesse up with her friend who ran the dress boutique, who helped Jesse pick out something he thought Gail would love: a deep red halter dress made of the softest cotton, with a full skirt that would hit her right above the knee—perfect for a night of salsa lessons. He’d booked her a ninety-minute massage, as well. And he’d reserved his favorite table at the Grand Café for her last night in town, an event he chose not to think too much about.

It gave Jesse pleasure to see Gail stagger out of her massage, a look of ecstasy on her face. Then he took her home and gave her cause for a few more. Their nighttime skinny-dip in Pirates Cove was a sensual heaven of warm water, soft touches and wet kisses. Later, on blankets spread out near the beach campfire, Jesse rolled with Gail, held her close and buried his face into the side of her neck when he pushed inside her. That’s when the realization went through him like an electric current—in a couple of days she’d be gone, the smell of her skin would be gone, her laugh would be gone. It seemed impossible.

Gail cried when she opened the box and found the
red dress. She held it up to herself and twirled for him, trying hard to fight back her tears.

“I feel as though I’m in a dream,” she told him. “Thank you, Jesse. Thank you for being so kind, for making me feel so special.”

He’d taken her by the shoulders then and set her straight. “This isn’t about kindness, Gail. Meeting you is one of the loveliest surprises of my life. You are special to me. You are special, period. Don’t ever forget that.”

When he took her dancing at the open-air Latin music club, she became a focused and serious student, doggedly repeating dance steps until she got them right. With some encouragement—and a few mojitos—Gail managed to loosen up enough to simply enjoy moving to the music. Jesse thought she was more beautiful that night than he’d ever seen her—radiant, relaxed, her eyes shining with happiness.

It was hard to believe that the confident, booty-shaking party girl in his arms was the same woman he’d encountered on her porch only a week ago, tongue-tied, stiff as a board and self-conscious.

During a slow song, Jesse held Gail close, swaying slowly with her in a sea of dancing couples. He kissed her fragrant hair and nibbled on her bare shoulder. He could barely make out the words she whispered into his ear.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Jesse pulled her tighter, fear and longing coursing through him simultaneously. He moved her body in rhythm with his own until he was ready to respond.

“I feel the same,” he said. “You’re very easy to love, Professor.”

That night, after Gail checked to make sure the girls were home safe, she returned to his house. She stripped off her simple robe and joined him in his bed, kissing him from head to toe. Jesse felt the love pouring out of her and into him. Her love felt like a blessing, and the most intimate gift anyone had ever given him.

“I want you to come back to Key West soon,” he said. “As soon as you can.”

Gail sat up, letting one leg dangle over the edge of his bed. She tipped her head and smiled at him tenderly. “I appreciate your saying that. But I’m worried that after a while you might forget me. It would be perfectly natural.” She gestured at their naked bodies in the moonlight. “This sort of thing usually turns into nothing more than a nice memory.”

Jesse sat up, too, and grabbed her face in his hands. “That’s not going to happen, and you know it.” She tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. “Gail, what I’ve had with you has been special. Unique. And I don’t want it to end with your vacation.”

Her smile spread.

“But there’s something you need to know about me first. Please hear me out.”

A tiny crease formed between her brows. “Okay,” she said, her voice tentative.

He took a deep breath, knowing there was no way to do this but push through it. Jesse owed her the truth, and it couldn’t be
postponed
another second.

“Something happened to me last year,” he said softly. “A woman came to stay in the house next door—your house—and she seemed really great at first. I’d never allowed myself to fall for a tourist before her.”

Gail gently pulled at his wrists until his hands fell
away from her face. The look of confusion in her eyes nearly killed Jesse.

“Go ahead. I’m listening,” she said.

“It was nothing but a setup, Gail. She basically blackmailed me, almost ruined my life.”

“But…” Gail shook her head as if trying to sort through her thoughts. “She didn’t succeed, right? She didn’t hurt you, did she?”

“She sure as hell tried.”

Gail blinked, remaining silent. Slowly, she began to scoot back on the bed, never taking her eyes from his face. She brought the sheet to the front of her body, that beautiful body she’d become comfortable sharing with him. It was painful to watch.

“I’m not sure I understand,” she said, resorting to her tightly wound professor voice. “I always assumed I wasn’t the first tourist you’ve been involved with. Are you just reminding me of that reality?”

He’d made a mistake. He should have told her up front. Chago had been right—this was the train wreck he’d seen coming.

“Not at all,” he said.

Gail suddenly laughed. “Wait a minute—you know what?” She smiled and held up her hand, palm out. “We’ve had a wonderful time together. Let’s not ruin it. You don’t owe me an explanation about anything.” She began to stand up. “I should probably go home and pack.”

“Please don’t.” Jesse placed his hand on her shoulder. “Please.” She stayed but angled her body away from him. “Don’t shut down on me, okay? I’m telling you this because you deserve the truth.”

She lifted her chin. “Then just say it.”

“The woman hired a smarmy lawyer and spread gossip about me.” Jesse watched as Gail’s eyes went huge. “She spun a fantasy about how I smacked her around, got her pregnant and then kicked her to the curb. She took me to court and filed a fictional paternity suit against me. The whole mess was picked up in the tabloids and the celebrity magazines.”

Gail reared her head back and frowned. “Was any of it
true?
”

Jesse laughed. “No! Of course not! It took a ton of money and a few years off my life span, but I got everything thrown out. She was a nut job.”

Gail nodded very slowly. “I’d like to say I’m sorry for the pain she caused you.” Her eyes were earnest, hurt. “But why did you pick this moment to tell me about her? You wanted me to know there was another spring-break slut before me, is that it? That you’ve done this kind of thing before?”

“Oh, God, no,” Jesse said, his heart breaking. This was a nightmare. “You are nothing like her, Gail. There’s no comparison.”

“Then why are you telling me this?” Gail’s voice was ominously flat. “And better yet—why would celebrity magazines give a rat’s ass about what happened between a tourist and a part-time tour guide? And where did that ‘ton of money’ come from?”

Jesse automatically tried to touch her but she recoiled. Clearly, she wasn’t interested in his touch.

“Did you teach her to salsa?” Gail’s lips began to quiver. “How about skinny-dipping at a private beach? Did she get the VIP treatment like I did, with the dolphins and the private lunches and the fancy dresses and everything else you did to make me feel so special?”

Jesse raked his fingers through his hair. This was worse than he imagined it would be, and he hadn’t even gotten to the good part. “Please hear me out.”

“I thought I already had.” Gail stood, reaching for her robe. She whipped it off the floor and onto her body, yanking hard on the sash around her waist. “You just said you were falling in love with me and you wanted me to come back soon, but this—” Gail waved her arm around. “It’s like you’re giving me a warning not to get my hopes up, that I’m not all that special after all, that you did this before and you’ve always regretted it.”

She turned away from him. Jesse leaped from the bed. “Gail, don’t. That’s not why I’m telling you.”

“Then why?” she asked, spinning around.

“Because I need to explain to you who I am. She targeted me because I’m sort of famous. She wanted my money and her fifteen minutes on TV.”

Even in the low light, Jesse could see Gail’s face drain of color.
“Sort of famous?”

Jesse grabbed his own robe from the bedpost and hastily wrapped it around himself. He flicked on the bedside lamp.

“You know how I told you I was a writer?”

She nodded, frowning.

“I’m J. D. Batista. I’m a bestselling suspense writer. Have you ever heard of the ‘Dark Blue’ series set in the Keys?”

Gail turned her head to the left and stared off into space, as if she was trying to conjure up a distant memory. “Vaguely,” she said, looking at him again, her eyes suddenly devoid of emotion. “Then again, I’ve never really cared for that kind of trash.”

Her words stung. “Okay. I deserved that.”

Gail laughed. “This is hilarious,” she said, the sarcasm oozing from her voice. She put a shaking hand to her mouth before she went on. “So let me see if I got this straight—you lied to me about your writing, telling me that you
hoped
to be published one day when you already had a major career? And you did this because you thought I was another psycho tourist out to get you?” The tendons in Gail’s neck stuck out like guitar strings. “Is that what this is all about?”

Jesse couldn’t help but see the irony of the situation. Gail Chapman was the only woman whose opinion mattered to him, and she was sickened by his deceit and thought his work was trash.

This hadn’t turned out the way he’d hoped.

“Gail, please listen. I only wanted to be sure you liked me for who I was as a person before you knew I had money and fame.” Jesse’s legs felt weak. He’d blown it with her. He knew it. “I always planned to tell you.”

Gail laughed bitterly. “Really? When? When I was already home? When I came upon your books in some Walmart somewhere?” She flapped her arms in agitation. “Or maybe you wanted to wait until after I’d fallen completely, totally in love with you! Oh, wait—that’s already happened!”

“Please forgive me. I made an awful mistake.”

“You know what the worst part is?” Gail’s cheeks had become red and blotchy with anger. “You
knew
how important honesty was to me! I told you, Jesse. I told you that I’d been burned by a lying, cheating, embezzling asshole, and that honesty was the only thing I absolutely had to have from a man.”

Jesse’s head felt as if it would explode. In trying to
protect himself, he’d hurt her. “I am so sorry,” was all he could say.

Gail wasn’t finished. She poked a finger in his chest. “But think about this—however bad that girl hurt you, Curtis hurt me more. It was my
husband
who betrayed me, not some tramp from the vacation house next door. Yet I still opened up to you, Jesse! I had the courage to be myself with you!”

He’d never felt this low in his life.

Gail spun around. She headed out his bedroom door and made a beeline directly toward his office, the door to which he’d intentionally left closed whenever she came to the house. Jesse watched her flip on the light and stand in the doorway, nodding.

He came up behind her and leaned an arm on the doorjamb. He’d never before felt queasy with embarrassment at the sight of his framed book covers and rave reviews.

Gail spun around to find that his arm blocked her way out. She stared at him with cold, hard eyes. “The tragedy is that I
did
love you for who you are—who I
thought
you were, anyway—and if I’d known from the start that you were some famous mystery writer I would have found a way to love you
in spite of it!
”

“It’s really more suspense than mystery,” he couldn’t stop himself from saying.

She shook her head in disbelief. “You’re a total dipshit, J. D. Batista. Hey, that must be what the ‘D’ stands for! Dipshit!” She ducked under his outstretched arm and raced down the stairs in her bare feet. He ran after her.

“Gail, wait! You can’t just walk out. We need to talk!”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” she said, reaching for the front doorknob and looking over her shoulder. “I’ll let you know when and
if
I ever feel like talking to you again.”

Jesse placed his hand on her back, but she jerked away from his touch. Those soft brown eyes burned.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” she said, preparing to slam the door behind her. “Thanks for the vacation memories!”

J
ESSE SAT AT HIS DESK.
He stared out the window at the banyan tree, his first cup of morning coffee in his hand, still reeling from what had happened with Gail the night before. What his agent just told him hadn’t improved his mood any, either.

His publisher had said no on the two-week extension request. They wanted the manuscript by 10:00 a.m. the next day. But for good reason, Beverly told him in an excited voice. They’d moved up the pub date of that book by six whole months. And they’d decided to send him out on tour with his summer release.

“This is a sure sign that they believe in you, Jesse, that they’re certain you can turn those numbers around.” Beverly waited for some type of enthusiastic response from him, but when she didn’t get one, she continued on. “I’m not sure you realize how big this is. Authors aren’t getting this kind of support right now, Jesse, not in this economy. And they’re behind you even though your numbers are down.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Jesse? Do you hear what I’m saying? Isn’t this
fabulous?
”

Not exactly.

Gail was leaving in twenty-four hours, the exact same time his publisher expected to have his completed
manuscript in hand. How was he supposed to send in a halfway decent manuscript and win Gail back at the same time?

Jesse got up from his chair and began to pace. “So I guess this isn’t a good time to tell you that I was about to ask for a two-week extension on top of the two-week extension they just nixed?”

Beverly didn’t answer right away. “No,” she eventually said. “That wouldn’t be smart.”

He walked back and forth in front of the eight custom-framed book covers hanging at precise intervals on his office wall, knowing in his heart that Gail had been right. He was a dipshit.

His agent had one more point to make, apparently. “I have to ask you, Jesse, what’s going on in your life that’s more important than your career? You seem quite distracted. You’re not having more problems with that crazy tourist, are you?”

He stopped pacing and leaned a hip up against the windowsill. For some reason, all he could think of was the moment Gail first slipped her hand into his, just before he took her on the moped tour. Before that day had ended, she would have revealed her heart to him, made him laugh and pranced around in a dental floss bikini for him.

Jesse stood straight, the truth of it suddenly hitting him like a boat anchor upside his head. When he’d told Gail he was falling for her, he’d meant it. But it was more than that. Gail Chapman was the only woman he wanted. She was the one he’d been looking for. And it was as simple as that.

“Did I lose you, Jesse?”

“Nope,” he told his agent. “Still here.”

“Is everything all right in your world?”

Jesse laughed. He could never tell Beverly what was going on. If he told her that a really special woman was staying in the rental house next door and he’d fallen in love with her, his agent would dump his ass as a client. Then she’d send an emissary to Key West to track him down and shoot him where he stood. And Jesse wouldn’t blame her one bit.

“Everything’s fine,” he said.

“Then get the manuscript to them by tomorrow morning.”

He shook his head, disgusted with himself. How had he gotten into this mess? He had to finish a book and win Gail back—at the same time. “Fine. Tell them it’s on the way.”

He hung up. He sat down at his desk once more, knowing he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.

H
OLLY SCOOTED THE CHAIR
closer to the desktop computer and signed in to her Internet account, warning everyone that her typing might not be up to snuff on a strange keyboard.

“Then let me do it,” Hannah said, pulling up the chair to her right.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Holly shook her head. “This is my mother’s heartache, so it’s only right I should get the honors.”

Gail took the seat to the left of her daughter, cautiously sipping at the hot cup of coffee in her hand. It had taken some convincing, but she’d agreed to accompany the girls to the Internet café in Old Town to do a little research on J. D. Batista, master of fiction, in both his books and his life.

She had nothing else to do. They were leaving the next morning. Besides, she’d cried so much that they were out of tissues at the house.

“Okay, girls!” Holly said in what Gail thought was a voice far too perky for the occasion. “Get on Google and let’s search the living crap out of him!”

A couple of clicks on the keyboard, and there he was. That sure didn’t take long. Gail had to admit that Jesse looked exceptionally handsome in his publicity shot, and that yes, the picture did look familiar. She’d probably seen his face and his books in a dozen bookstores over the years, but since she didn’t read that stuff, it never registered with her. She peered closer to the photo, deciding something looked off about him. He wasn’t wearing his little silver earring, for starters. He was clean-shaven. And his eyes seemed friendly but empty somehow. Flat.

Gail sat up straight. Her chest pulled tight. The reason Jesse’s publicity picture looked strange to her was that it wasn’t the Jesse she knew. What she was looking at was his public face, and she’d seen him only on his home turf. Gail had become accustomed to Jesse’s eyes when he looked at
her
—when they made love, danced, laughed together, or walked hand in hand. Maybe he’d been himself with her that week, after all.

“Check this out!” Holly pulled up several articles about Jesse’s legal troubles. Gail had to admit the woman who made the charges was easy on the eyes. She looked elegant. She looked
believable
. But when Holly read aloud some of the ugly details, Gail felt nauseous.

The woman’s claims made Jesse sound like a monster. Granted, Gail had known him only for nine days,
but never once had she seen any of the traits his accuser described. Gail had seen only generosity, tenderness and passion. Until last night, that is, when he dropped the “full disclosure” bomb on her.

“I don’t like spying on him like this,” Gail suddenly announced, rising from her seat near the computer. “I’ve seen enough to know that Jesse told me the truth about who he is and what happened with that woman. I don’t need to know anymore.”

“Ah, c’mon, Ms. Chapman!” Hannah said, smiling. “If you’re getting back into the dating scene, you’re definitely going to need to know how to do this!”

That sure buoyed her spirits. “I’ll be over by the window. Let me know if anything really bad comes up.”

Holly looked at her as if she was crazy. “This isn’t bad enough for you?”

Gail took a deep breath. How was she going to explain this to her daughter? She never wanted Holly to think it was all right for a man to deceive a woman, because it never was. That had been the central lesson in Gail’s catastrophic marriage to Curtis.

But Gail knew that the older a person got—and the more complicated their history became—the less black and white the world was. Jesse hadn’t told her the truth about his career. Fine. But if she’d been in his position, would she have done things any differently? Perhaps not. And he’d shared everything else with her, hadn’t he—his home, his city…his heart?

“Look,” she told the girls. “Jesse fell for that woman there on the computer. She trapped him, blackmailed him and tried her best to destroy his career.” Gail shrugged and turned toward the window table, speaking
more to herself now than Holly and Hannah. “The whole thing made him wary. So when I showed up, he did what he had to do to protect himself. Unfortunately I got hurt in the process. But unlike the woman who set out to destroy him, Jesse didn’t hurt me intentionally. He just didn’t think of the consequences of his actions.”

“Thanks for that teachable moment, Mom,” Holly said.

Gail collapsed into a chair in the sunshine. She stared out the window of the café, remembering the talk she and Jesse had their first day together, when he’d arranged for their private luncheon. She’d asked him how he could afford his lifestyle, her worst fears being drug smuggling, embezzlement and the mafia. She’d never even thought to ask him about popular fiction.

She sat quietly, drinking her coffee, while Holly and Hannah continued their cyberinvestigation. When they believed they were sufficiently informed, Gail said she was going to take a walk to the bookstore. Curiosity had gotten the better of her. “Do you want to come with?”

“Sure,” Holly said, smiling. “Nestor and Luis are working today. We were going to stop in anyway.”

“M
AY
I
HELP YOU
?”

A short, round man with a friendly face wandered over to Gail as she perused the aisles. It seemed odd to her that the books were spaced so far apart on the shelves, as if the bookstore owner had depleted his inventory or was preparing to go out of business.

“Yes, hi,” Gail said. “I was looking for J. D. Batista’s novels, and I assumed that you’d carry them, since he’s
a local author. Do you know if the other bookstore in town has them in stock?”

The man’s eyes bugged out, but he said nothing, which Gail found odder still. Just then, Luis and Nestor spotted the girls and strolled over, trying to look cool when they were clearly thrilled that they had visitors.

“Hey,” Hannah said, playfully grabbing at Nestor’s arm. “Why didn’t you guys tell us who Jesse was?”

Nestor shrugged. “Because Dad told us he’d kick our asses to Cuba if we—”

“That’s enough.” Obviously, the man was the boys’ father and Jesse’s friend. It was all starting to make sense to Gail.

“Get outta here. Take the day,” he said to his sons, and they were happy to oblige.

“Bye, Mom, we’ll check in later!” Holly said, heading for the front door of the bookstore. Suddenly, she stopped and turned. “You’ll be okay?”

“Absolutely,” Gail answered her.

Once the group had gone outside, the man sighed deeply and extended his hand to Gail. “My name is Santiago, but my friends call me Chago,” he said, smiling. He motioned for Gail to walk with him. “This is my store.”

“I’m Gail,” she said.

“Yep, I figured as much,” he said with a chuckle. “Jesse said you were beautiful, and he was right.”

She smiled tightly. “How sweet of him.”

“So, he finally told you everything, huh?”

Gail nodded. “What a dipshit,” she mumbled.

Chago laughed so hard she feared the few remaining books would come tumbling off the shelves. “Yeah, my friend wasn’t thinking straight, unfortunately. He was
determined to wait a few days until he told you who he was.”

She nodded. “So it seems.”

He led her to the stockroom, warning her to stand back. The room was packed floor to ceiling with books. Chago cleared his throat before he spoke again. “If it helps at all, Jesse told me that you were really special, that he could see something happening with the two of you, something long-term.”

She nodded, acknowledging Chago’s loyalty to his friend. It was sweet. Then she looked around the stockroom and laughed out loud. “Let me see if I get the picture here,” she said. “Jesse actually told you to hide all his books? So I wouldn’t see them on display?”

Chago chuckled again then pointed behind Gail’s back. She turned to see a huge poster-sized version of his publicity photo propped against the wall.

“That ugly mug would’ve been pretty hard to miss,” Chago said with a shrug. “Be careful where you step, Miss Gail. Maybe you should tell me which book you want and I’ll get it for you. Probably safer that way.”

“I have no idea what I want,” Gail said, immediately aware of the appropriateness of that statement.

“Ever read any of his stuff before?” Chago asked.

“Nope.”

“You should probably give him a chance, you know,” Chago said.

“I’m here to buy his books, aren’t I?”

A frown marred Chago’s pleasant face as he looked up at Gail. “I meant him as a person, not his books. There are plenty of assholes out there who write good books. Trust me on that.”

Gail laughed.

“Jesse is a real decent guy, though,” he said. “He always has been. He has his eccentricities and all that, sure, and he locks himself away like a monk when he’s on deadline, which takes some getting used to, but he treats everyone in his life real good. If he doesn’t deserve another shot, I don’t know who does.”

Gail swallowed hard. Suddenly, it was all she could do not to cry. How could something so wonderful have gotten so messed up, so fast? “All right, then,” she said, trying to sound sprightly. “Which book do you recommend?”

Chago smiled. “Start with his first one so you can familiarize yourself with the characters.” He reached over and grabbed a hardcover book with a dramatic dust jacket, the image of a menacing storm bearing down on a small boat.

Gail held it in her hand then flipped it over, finding the same publicity photo. She couldn’t help but smile seeing his face. “How many books are there in the series?” she asked.

“Eight, and number nine is set for release later this summer. He’s writing number ten now.”

Chago nodded toward a dozen cartons stacked near the back fire exit. “I’m not allowed to put the new one out yet.”

“I’ll take all eight,” Gail said.

Chago’s eyes went big again. “You sure? You need some help getting them home?”

Gail shook her head, showing him her large straw bag. “Fill ’er up,” she said.

B
Y
4:00
P.M., HE’D LEFT
six messages on her cell phone and sent flowers and chocolates to the house, but she
wasn’t ready to talk to him. She wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed.

Would tomorrow be the end of something fun but foolish, or the start of something with potential?

Gail did what she always did in times of indecision. She called Kim and laid out the whole story for her, edited for modesty’s sake, of course.

“Holy shit,” Kim said after hearing everything that had happened in the last few days. “I love that guy’s books!”

Gail rolled her eyes.

“And you said you wouldn’t let anything happen to you down there,” Kim added. “Boy, were you wrong!”