Page 26 of Embracing the Change

Jamie happily obliged.

And they decimated the Mr. Chow’s, the bottle of wine, as well as the financiers, and several macarons besides, before he guided her back to the front door and down to her waiting car and driver.

Before helping her into the back seat, Jamie kissed her cheek, coming to the realization made even more poignant that night that they could never be.

And that had been so he could have Rosalind, and in the end, he could have Dru.

Jamie was both perfectly content with that, at the same time it chafed. Horrendously.

In the intervening time since their dinner together in his kitchen—this would be the time between Rosalind dying and Belinda eventually (or perhaps the more fitting word was “inevitably”) overdosing, which brought Judge fully back into his life, they would meet for lunch a couple of times, and a few times more, they’d chat animatedly at events they both attended.

It wouldn’t be until he realized he was unwittingly using Dru as his buffer to the world, and Dru was doing the same, and he had to let his daughter live her life, that Nora would come in and save the day yet again, becoming his plus one, with that growing to her becoming his near-constant companion.

She had her own apartment, and he had his brownstone. They both slept alone.

But they saw each other practically every evening and spent most weekends together as well.

He thought he had a handle on it. His affection for her. His feelings for her.

His growing yearning for her.

Then she’d worn those damnably sexy, red, high-heeled, fuck-me sandals.

And he’d been unable to control his rampant—and becoming with each second he spent with her more overpowering—urge to kiss her (not to mention, do other things to her).

He’d succumbed to that moment of weakness.

And blown it all to shit.

CHAPTER 4

PUCCI

Jamie

Present day…

With Nora at his heels, Jamie stalked to the cockpit and knocked on the glass.

The captain was at the helm.

The chief officer came to the door.

“Uh…sir—” the man began.

Jamie was not the kind of man who asked for a manager. There was something abhorrent about that to him, the idea that anyone would feel so entitled they couldn’t deal with the person they were dealing with and negotiate terms, and instead demand to speak to a superior.

If those negotiations didn’t go your way, and the result was unacceptable, you simply didn’t patronize that establishment again.

It took little effort to understand why he felt this way. His father probably asked for a manager everywhere he went. Though, Jamie had personally seen him do it repeatedly while he was growing up.

But in that moment, considering the circumstances, Jamie pushed through the officer, Nora at his back, and he addressed the captain directly.

“Respectfully, I request, at your earliest convenience, you turn us around.”

“I’m sorry, sir, that isn’t possible,” the captain replied as Nora came to stand by his side.

And fuck him, the tangy, warm, orange blossom, jasmine and vanilla notes to her perfume always fucked with his head.

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