Page 28 of Forgettable in Every Way

Somehow, Simon was sure Jules had not wished Penelope to see it. “So you snooped?”

Penelope said nothing, confirming his suspicions.

Frustrated, he asked, “Can you come over or not?”

“Where are you going?” she demanded to know.

“If you must know, an ambulance took Jules’s father to the hospital today. I would like to check on her.” Though he had no idea where she was. For all he knew, her father was back home.

“How do you know that?” She sounded panicked.

“Penelope,” he gritted out. “You lost the right to ask when you divorced me. Will you or will you not watch our son? I don’t have time for your games tonight.”

“Fine,” she breathed out. “I’ll be right over. But just so you know, Jules isn’t like you or me. She’s a bore and keeps to herself.”

At the risk of creating a firestorm, Simon scoffed. “I don’t think you knew your supposed best mate very well.” Yes, Jules was quiet, but she’d never been boring. The woman intrigued him now more than ever. I mean, how often do you get to meet a spy princess?

“Are you interested in her?”

The answer was a resounding yes, but he knew better than to tell Penelope. He had already said too much. “I just want to check on an old mate.” With any luck, Jules would wish to remain friends. And maybe by some miracle she would want to explore other aspects of their relationship. Ones that would lead to him knowing how it tasted to kiss her perfectly pouty lips.

SIMON WALKED ACROSS THE PARKING lot in the dark toward the emergency entrance of the hospital, not sure where else to start. He probably should have tried Jules’s parents’ house first, but the thought of her alone at the hospital wouldn’t leave him. It had been a while since he’d had anything to do with American health care. All he remembered was that in New York you could wait hours in the emergency room.

When he stepped onto the sidewalk, he noticed Jules’s friend, Dr. Monroe, embracing a man just outside the automatic doors. She was wearing blue scrubs and giggling, and the man was nipping at her lips, looking as if he wanted to devour her. Simon assumed this was the fiancé spoken of at lunch.

Afraid of the wrath he might endure at the hand of Jules’s friend who hadn’t seemed all that impressed with him, he cleared his throat, eager to know if Calista knew where he might find Jules. “Pardon me.”

Calista turned her head, her eyes already narrowed at him, her swollen-from-kissing lips curled up into a sneer. “Can I help you?” she dared him to ask. Based on the fiancé’s grimace, he wasn’t all that pleased Simon had interrupted their romantic interlude.

Simon stepped forward, not ashamed to admit the tall brunette intimidated him. “I’m looking for Jules. I was wondering if perhaps you knew where she was. I believe they brought her father here earlier.”

Calista looked him up and down, scrutinizing. “Why should I tell you where she’s at?”

Her snippy response left no doubt in Simon’s mind that Jules had spoken to Calista about their time together in New York and how he’d hurt her. It made him wonder if Jules still had feelings for him. It seemed unlikely resentment would linger for so long, if not for harboring some affection for him. The thought both pained him and gave him hope.

Simon sighed. “I’m worried about her.”

Calista scoffed and turned back to her fiancé, obviously unimpressed by his answer.

What a cheeky woman, he thought. Simon stood, not knowing what to do or what to say. Calista obviously knew where Jules was. “Listen,” Simon braved saying. “I know I botched things up with Jules back in New York, but I’m trying to make amends here. Will you please tell me where she is?” he begged.

Calista spun around with a fire in her eyes. “I don’t think you understand how badly you messed things up.”

“What if I do?” Simon challenged her, afraid to say too much, but not wanting to miss his chance just in case the Jules from the photo album still cared for him.

She tilted her head and eyed him carefully. “Hmm. What do you know?”

“What do you know?” He wasn’t going to give away more than he had to. More than Jules would be comfortable with. The photo album probably embarrassed her. He wondered if Calista knew of its existence.

Calista inhaled and exhaled loudly, thinking about what to say.

While he waited for her response, Simon thought it best to use his manners. He held his hand out to the man. “I’m Simon Harrison, mate.”

“Tristan.” The fiancé shook Simon’s hand. “I’m a big, big fan of your work.”

Simon let go of Tristan’s hand, taken aback. “Which work is that?”

Tristan pulled Calista tightly against him, an amorous look in his eye as he adored his bride-to-be. “Those books.” He whistled.

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