Page 65 of Second Act
He pinned her with his gaze. “I’m not going to beat around the bush because that’s not my style. I saw the photo of you and Hugh Baker in theStar.” He grimaced. “Not that I read that garbage, but a work associate does and remembered meeting you at the hockey game, so she shared it with me.”
Jessica winced. That had probably injured Pete’s pride on top of everything else. “The photo was a surprise to me, too.” She wanted to say it was misleading, but she couldn’t quite force the words out.
He locked his gaze on her face. “When I asked you about Hugh Baker, you told me your engagement ended a long time ago. You said you were over him. In that picture”—his voice turned hard—“you sure as hell don’t look over him. And you might have mentioned the fact that you are still seeing him.”
She didn’t blame him for being upset. “When we talked about Hugh, I wasn’t seeing him. Until the week before our conversation, I hadn’t had any contact with him in eight years. Not a word. So when I ran into him—literally—while he was filming the new Julian Best movie, I didn’t expect anything about our relationship to change.”
“Whose relationship? Yours with Hugh or with me?”
“Both...either. What I told you was true—Hugh and I live in different worlds. Nothing made me think he and I would connect again.”
Pete sat back, his expression grim. “But you did. So where does that leave us?”
She folded the corners of the paper cocktail napkin up over the base of her glass. “I don’t know.” She lifted her head to meet his eyes. “I hate to screw things up with you when I have no idea what’s going on with Hugh.”
He huffed out a frustrated breath. “Look, I don’t shy away from some healthy competition. You’re an amazing woman, so it doesn’tsurprise me that I’m not the only man in your life. I’m not even afraid to go toe to toe with a world-famous actor. But I can’t compete with the past. Your relationship with Hugh Baker goes back a long way. I need to know if those old feelings are truly dead.”
His words took Jessica on a roller-coaster ride of dismay, gratification, and finally, the stunning realization that she needed to admit the truth to Pete—and to herself.
She swallowed hard, glanced up at Pete, and then stared down into the golden liquid in her glass. “I thought those feelings were dead. I had buried my life with Hugh in a deep, dark corner of my heart, never to be resurrected.” She forced herself to meet Pete’s gaze. “Even when we talked again on the movie set, I didn’t feel anything other than a sort of regretful nostalgia.”
Pete’s face seemed carved in stone.
“But we spent some more time together.” She thought of how she and Hugh had made love the day he’d scooped her up off the dog bed. She should have known that it wasn’t only her body that responded to Hugh. “I wouldn’t say the old feelings resurfaced. Eight years is a long time, and we’ve both changed. But whatever brought us together back then is still there in some form. I just don’t know whether there’s any future in it. Only time will tell.”
All she knew with utter certainty was that she’d fallen right back in love with Hugh, despite their past failure, despite the glaring differences between their two worlds, despite having no idea how he felt about her. As she watched Pete swallow the rest of his drink in one gulp, she wondered what the hell was wrong with her. Across from her sat a successful, attractive, decent man who wanted her. Why did she long for the man who’d hurt her enough to drive her away from him?
Pete set down his glass as though it was made of the most fragile crystal. “I appreciate your honesty.” He signaled the waiter for the check and took his credit card out of his wallet to lay it on the table. She hatedto have him pay for the drinks, but it seemed like the wrong time to argue about it.
“You’re a nicer guy than I deserve,” she said as a pang of regret rolled through her.
He shook his head, handing the waiter his credit card without even looking at the check. “I’m not nice. I just know when I’m beaten.”
“I wish things had worked out differently.” She meant that.
“Just don’t say you really like me,” he said, his mouth twisting in a grimace. “That would be the kiss of death.”
“Deal,” she said.
Pete signed the credit card slip and stood up. Jessica started to do the same, but he waved her back into her seat. “You should drink that cocktail. You might need it.”
He walked out with a confident stride, and Jessica saw several female heads turn to watch him.
She picked up her Manhattan and downed half of it all at once, hoping the alcohol would wash away the guilt and remorse she felt over hurting Pete. The other half she swallowed in an attempt to drown her newly acknowledged feelings for Hugh.
But Hugh had fought his way out of the deep, dark corner she’d shoved him in, and now she couldn’t banish him back into it. The glow of the Manhattan was starting to seep through her bloodstream, but all it brought was a desire to lay her head down on the table and cry until she fell into an exhausted sleep.
And wasn’t that exactly why she hadn’t wanted to love Hugh ever again?
“You didwhat?” Gavin jerked upright in his chair, nearly spilling the glass of scotch he held.
“I got Bryan to rearrange a few scenes so I could take tomorrow afternoon off. The K-9 Angelz is a program I believe in.” Hugh didn’t mention the string of creative curses the director had let loose when Hugh had made his request. But Hugh never asked for special treatment, so Bryan—or rather Bryan’s assistant, Timoney—found a way to accommodate him.
“At least be honest with me,” Gavin said. “You didn’t disrupt a major motion picture for the kids and the dogs.”
Hugh put his feet up on the coffee table in Gavin’s den. “No, I suppose I didn’t.” He took a sip of his drink.
“What’s going on with your ex-fiancée?” the other man prodded.
