Page 24 of The Holy Grail
Jules spent the weekend in a state of almost disorientation. And … she didn’t like it very much. She couldn’t concentrate on anything and couldn’t stop checking her phone every five minutes, it seemed. By the time Sunday night rolled around, and she hadn’t heard anything from Malcom, she came to the conclusion that since she’d never had to work for a man, she might not be doing it right.
Either that, or she hadn’t done enough.
The next morning, just before noon, she took Malcom’s card and dialed the number of the law firm he worked for. Klein & Schmidt was a fairly small corporate firm, and when the receptionist answered, Jules asked for Malcom, a little surprised at how nervous she felt at the prospect of talking to him.
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Hodge just left for lunch,” the receptionist informed Jules in a business-like tone. “Would you like to leave a message in his voicemail?”
And be ignored again? Jules wasn’t going down that path again. “Did he go with a client?” she asked instead. “Is it a working lunch?”
“No, not that I’m aware of.”
She decided this was a necessary time for a lie. “Do you happen to know where he went for lunch? This is his sister and I was thinking I could join him if he was nearby.”
Jules waited for the other woman to question Jules’ claim, or at least be suspicious as to why his ‘sister’ couldn’t call her brother directly to find out where he was, but the receptionist answered with the name of a restaurant Jules was familiar with.
After hanging up, Jules made sure she looked nice in her work outfit of red, wide-legged trousers and a white, short-sleeved, button-up shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and her make-up was minimal, as it usually was for work. She had debated going for a ‘nicer’ look but ultimately decided she didn’t want to come across as fake in any way, so had negated that idea.
Once she’d arrived at the Thai Garden, she parked and went inside. It was a place she’d frequented with Paige in the last few months, so was familiar with the layout of the restaurant. It took her only a few seconds to spot Malcom in a booth by himself, eating his lunch and reading a book—he looked almost exactly as she remembered him, down to the navy suit he was wearing.
“Would you like a table or a booth?” the hostess asked, reaching for a menu.
“I’m actually meeting someone,” Jules answered, unloading her second lie of the day, before pointing in Malcom’s direction. “He’s right over there.”
On slightly unsteady legs, Jules made her way over to the booth, and as she got closer, braced herself for the moment when he would look up. However, he must have been so engrossed in his book, that he didn’t register anyone stopping a few feet away. It wasn’t until he looked away from his book—she still couldn’t see the title—and turned his focus on the plate in front of him, that he saw her for the first time.
“Hello, Malcom,” she greeted him, her voice softer than normal, as she took in his neatly styled dark hair with strands of silver at his temples, his blue eyes behind his dark-rimmed glasses, and his smoothly shaved jawline. She had been wondering if the attraction she’d initially felt for him would be gone after all this time, but nope.
It was definitely still there.
She’d really been a fucking idiot.
There was an excruciatingly long pause, in which he blinked at her several times, clearly surprised to see her standing in front of him, before he said, “Hello, Jules.” Slowly, he removed his glasses, set his book down (the current John Grisham), leaned back against the upholstered seat, and added, “I’m guessing this isn’t a coincidence.”
“It’s not.” She gave him a quick smile. “I knew you were here.”
He didn’t return the smile. “And how did you know that?”
“When I called the law office you work for, the receptionist told me you were at lunch and—”
“She told you where I was?”
“Well, only after I pretended to be your sister and said I was hoping to join you.”
Malcom appeared to be debating how to respond to that, before asking bluntly, “What do you want?”
She met his gaze head on, ignoring the icy aspect of it. “I wanted to apologize in person, and tell you how sorry I am for waiting so long to contact you.”
He looked her up and down for several moments, again appearing to debate how to respond, only to sigh heavily and indicate she should sit on the bench across from him.
Grateful he hadn’t just told her to take a long walk off a short pier, Jules settled onto the seat. Now that she was closer to him, she could smell his cologne, which smelled like an old leather chair that had bourbon spilled on it, then dragged through an Evergreen forest. “I truly am sorry—and that isn’t bullshit.”
Just then a waitress came by. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked Jules.
“No, thank you,” Jules told the young woman, before giving Malcom a dry glance. “I don’t know how long I’ll be staying.”
After the waitress was gone, leaving Malcom and Jules alone again, he pushed his plate to the side and steepled his hands on the table in front of him. “You know, I was so sure you were going to call me, that when I didn’t hear from you after a week, I came up with an excuse for why you didn’t—that you’d gone out of town or something. You know, like for a family emergency, even though I don’t know anything about your family, or even if they live out of town. After two weeks, I told myself something more ridiculous, like you’d lost your phone somewhere, along with my card, and after three weeks, something evenmoreridiculous than that. I didn’t go as far as trying to convince myself you’d gotten amnesia, but it was touch and go. However, after four weeks … I finally pulled my head out of my ass and came to the conclusion you weren’t going to call because you justdidn’t want to.At that point, I had no choice but to accept the fact that you’d probably rippedup my card and thrown it away, and I’d been dismissed just like Brent and was completely and utterly wrong about whatever connection I thought we’d had.”
His flat delivery, as well as his unforgiving expression, made Jules feel worse than she ever had in her life, and she swallowed hard; she’d obviously hurt this man deeply and was ashamed by that. “You weren’t dismissed like Brentand you weren’t wrong about the connection we had.”
