Deeply Personal

Chapter 22

Jessica

Finally, the time had arrived. It was January 4th, and Jessica was standing inside Paul’s condo, advising her demo crew and making sure everything went smoothly. She was all business. No nonsense. After the demolition, which would take about two days, she’d be adding new flooring, a totally new kitchen, new furniture, new paint and wallpaper, and new artwork. She grew excited as the crew got to work. They were very skilled, and this was going to be a great makeover. She could feel it. There were times when a job didn’t meet her expectations, but this wouldn’t be that way at all.

Paul was at work and had given her the code to get in. Jessica left the workers an hour later and returned to her office, then came back to the condo around four o’clock, when Paul would be arriving. By then, the place was a complete mess. That was just how things were in her line of work: you destroyed everything and then built it back better than it had been.

“You still think I should stay somewhere else for the next few nights?” Paul said as he stood in the great room, taking in the chaos. She’d advised him that would be a good idea.

“Yes, I do. There’s going to be dust flying everywhere.” Jessica nudged aside an empty box with the toe of her boot.

Paul was wearing his trainer outfit and looked incredibly fit. Her thoughts reverted to their second fake date at the beautiful lake home, with the Buchanans. Fake-date mission accomplished, right? It had been heavily implied that they were going to employ Jessica, so on that front, it had been successful.

But still. Being close to Paul all night on that small bed—she’d tried to put that out of her mind. Tried and failed. Her heart would not go where she wanted it to go. It was like a horse that wanted to gallop away when all you wanted it to do was walk.

One installer was ripping out the kitchen counter and another one was removing old flooring. A third was starting to drill holes for the new fan above the stove, giving off a piercing noise.

“I’ve made arrangements with Tony to stay with him if needed,” Paul said. “He’s a good friend.”

“Good. You’ll probably have to go out to eat too unless you want to microwave everything.”

“I go out to eat a lot anyway,” he said. His handsome smile made the floor of Jessica’s stomach drop like a descending elevator that had lost its cables. “I can’t wait to see the results.”

She’d told him the renovation would take about four weeks when they’d signed the contract. The kitchen would be completed first.

The demo crew scraped, hammered, hauled, cut, and sawed. It was thrilling to watch. She stayed until five, monitoring the activity, until the workers quit for the day. Finally, they left, and it was just Jessica and Paul.

The condo grew quiet and smelled of old wood, musty. Dust swirled around. It was too quiet all of a sudden. Jessica turned wary. Alone with Paul—again. She smoothed down the front of her sweater as she stood next to a trash can full of waste.

Paul cleared his throat. “I know I’m not supposed to ask you out, but . . . You wouldn’t want to have dinner tonight, would you? It wouldn’t be a date or anything. Just two hungry people having something to eat, that’s all.”

Jessica immediately turned toward him. She’d had a feeling this was coming. She said nothing for a while, letting his words float around in her mind. “Oh, you mean a fake real date this time?” she said finally, and chuckled.

“Something like that.” Paul followed her to the window. He smiled sheepishly and looked down at his shoes, shoving his hands in his pockets. Then he raised his head and gave her such a strong look—direct and caring—that Jessica nearly lost herself in the ocean-blue depths of his eyes.

God! He was just so damn adorable. She couldn’t stand it. But what did he mean by “something like that”?

“Why didn’t you call me afterwards?” she asked, searching his eyes.

“Honestly? I was afraid you’d find me pushy. And I don’t want to be. Not with you, Jessica. I know how reluctant you are.”

She appreciated the answer. He was just being thoughtful. She sighed. Now she knew.

“Honestly,” she said, “I was planning to meet a friend for dinner this evening.” She turned and looked out at the city. Below, things were bustling as usual. Cars. Pedestrians. A lone musician was singing on a street corner. In the distance, hills and greenery stretched to the horizon.

“Oh.” The disappointed tone in his voice made Jessica’s heart melt. But she had to be strong.

“So, I don’t think I’m able to—” Her phone pinged.

Kristin: Can’t make it tonight. Sorry. Meeting with suppliers.

Jessica slowly looked up. What now? Should she give Paul a chance? It was as if the walls were crumbling around her, just like the walls in his condo. Was her heart going through a renovation as well?

“After all, you’ve already gone to bed with me.” Paul’s white-toothed grin rang a bell somewhere deep within her.

She swallowed back a laugh, but it still came out, strangled and choking. “That’s not funny!”

“It’s very funny,” he said, obviously amused.

She licked her dry lips and swished back strands of hair off her face. Maybe if she just kept this surface level and kept herself from getting attached, it would be all right. But could she hold back? Could she open up her heart just enough to let some light in but still maintain control? And why did the universe seem to be drawing her toward this man?

“Sometimes fate pushes a woman toward a man, but sometimes she’s pulled.”

She’d read that in a book somewhere.

“Just dinner though, right?” she asked, feeling her throat clamp up, her hands growing slick.

“Whatever would make you most happy.”

Jessica swooned at this. She let out a breath as she shook her head. “I really shouldn’t. I have work to do at home and—”

“You have to eat, right?” Paul asked.

“This is true.”

“So?”

Jessica looked around the condo. Everything was being gutted just like . . . just like Adam had gutted her heart and flown away from her. Except, when was the last time she’d thought about him? Okay, so she was thinking about him now. But at one point, she’d thought about him every day. A hundred times a day. And now, she’d almost forgotten he existed. When had that happened? That was the thing about birds—they were so flighty in the way they came and went, they were ultimately forgettable.

She swallowed hard and bit her lower lip. “I guess I do owe you, since my workers just destroyed your kitchen.” She laughed, and as soon as she heard herself say the words, she felt lighter. Freer. Uplifted.

Paul raised an eyebrow and lowered his voice in a sexy tone. “I guess you do.”

“Where and when, then?” Again, the words just sprang from her lips as she let out a long exhale. She couldn’t believe she was doing this.

“The Palm, around seven?” he asked. “I’ll make reservations.”

She paused before answering, hesitating one final time, then . . . “Okay. I’ll meet you there. I have a few errands to run, and I know you need to change.”

“Cool.” Paul’s grin was as wide as the day was long.