Page 38 of Embracing the Change

There was sheer joy in her voice as she asked, “Last night?”

I put my makeup brush down and moved on to foundation. “Two weeks ago.”

“Wait. What?”

“Two weeks ago, he kissed me. It was the best kiss of my life. Then, seconds after he tore his mouth from mine, he told me the kiss was a mistake.”

“Oh God,” she groaned.

Not that I needed confirmation, but if I did, there it was.

Jamie saying that was a wound no woman needed inflicted.

“Indeed,” I clipped.

“He’s not?—”

I finished for her. Sarcastically. “Over Rosalind? You think?”

“What I was going to say is, he’s not allowing himself to move forward.”

“I’m sensing that’s not something he has in his power.”

“He’s stronger than he thinks, he just needs to be reminded of that.”

And I knew who she thought should remind him.

I simply disagreed. Vehemently.

“This is not why I answered the phone,” I informed her.

“We should talk this through, Nora. Especially now that I know about the kiss.”

Hell no, we were not doing that.

“If you utter a word about that to a single soul, Mika, I swear to God, I truly won’t speak to you again. You can’t even tell Tom.”

There was a beat of silence before she said, “I have to tell my husband. You can’t ask me to keep anything from him.”

“Fine,” I spat, only because I knew Tom would be circumspect. “But none of those other traitors can know.”

“You’re on a luxury yacht with the man you love, we’ve hardly locked you in an iron maiden.”

I put my beauty blender down so I could more fully focus on delivering a very pertinent message.

“Allow me to paint you the picture, my dearest,” I began. “Say Tom Pierce was hung up on his first love, the inestimable Imogen Swan. Yes, he had deep feelings for you, he was attracted to you, he liked spending time with you, he admitted you meant the world to him, but he would not allow himself to go there with you. Now, tell me how you’d feel being stuck on a ship with him for a week.”

“Belatedly, I’m seeing your point,” she mumbled.

“I’m sure you are,” I stated coldly.

“Maybe we can talk about this later.”

Oh, we’d talk about it later.

But only when I was ready.

“Much later,” I stressed.

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