Coffee Cup Confessions - Trish Williford Page 0,25

been punched in the gut. “That’s not true,” I try to assure him. “Not everyone in this world is vindictive or believes in what they did. But I understand why you would have trust issues; you have every right to. I’m really sorry that happened to you.”

“That’s why I haven’t dated much since I got divorced, and I don’t have many friends. Trust is definitely something I don’t give freely.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

“You can because that’s what you’re feeling right now. I don’t even wish that upon my worst enemy, which is now my ex-wife, Tessa, and old best friend, Brandon.”

“I could never do this to someone.” I feel the tears building, and I attempt to push them away.

“You don’t have the heart to, and I think that’s why I’ve found myself attracted to you. Even when we met that night, I knew you were warm and kind. You’re not capable of being malicious or deceitful. I just … felt it.”

“I felt the same about you.” I squeeze his hand tightly in mine. “Thank you.”

Jake frowns, and a cute crease forms between his eyebrows. “For?”

The tears threaten to fall, and a ball of emotion lodges in my throat. “Understanding. For coming to check on me. For just being you. I really needed to see you, and I didn’t even realize it.”

“Anytime.” Jake kisses the side of my head and takes my coffee cup from me. He pulls me close to him, grabs a blanket off the back of the couch, and drapes it over us. He wraps his arms around me, and I tuck my head under his chin. “I can tell you’re tired. Take a nap.”

I’m sure he’s noticed the bags under my eyes and my frequent yawns during our conversation. A nap sounds delightful, especially on this couch, in Jake’s arms, and covered with a warm blanket.

“Don’t you have anywhere you need to be?” I ask.

His arms tighten around me a little more. “Yeah, right here.”

12

Jake

Tonight’s client can tell my mind is elsewhere, and if she wasn’t one of my regulars, I’d probably hear about it tomorrow from Natasha.

Sophia Newsome has been a client of mine since I began working for CCI three and a half years ago. She’s a financial analyst for an investment firm in Washington, DC. She often books me for business dinners with potential new clients. Sophia and I have grown to know each other fairly well over the last few years, so these dinners tend to go smoothly.

Tonight, however, I’ve been completely off my game. As much as I try to stay focused on the conversations being had around the table, my mind keeps wandering to my conversation with Misha this afternoon.

Son of a bitch. Mandy is evil.

After Misha told me about Mandy dating her ex, it took every ounce of restraint I had not to tell her about Mandy hiring me to take her out. The part of me that wanted to protect Misha’s feelings knew that telling her the truth would only add fuel to the sisters’ feud. But the other part of me, the more selfish part, didn’t tell her because Misha would be mortified, and more than likely, she would never speak to me again.

She makes me feel things other than numb for the first time in so long, and the thought of giving that up hurts like a motherfucker.

Misha napped for almost three hours this afternoon, but I only catnapped. While she was sleeping against my chest, I thought about the situation between her and Mandy. Finally, I could see the entire picture. Mandy wanted Misha to become interested in dating other people so she wouldn’t look like a villain for dating her sister’s ex. Now, I feel like shit, knowing Mandy used me in her little plan to justify her actions.

Who in the hell needs enemies when you have a sister like Mandy?

“Is everything okay, Jake? You’ve not been yourself tonight,” Sophia asks while I’m walking her to her car in the parking garage.

“No. I’m sorry, Sophia. I have a headache.” It’s not a lie technically. I do have a dull headache that I can’t shake, which formed shortly after Misha left this afternoon. “I’m really sorry that I was out of it tonight. There’s no excuse.”

“Well, I think it actually went in my favor. My client is known for easily getting off topic and drawing meetings out for hours longer than they need to be. Since you weren’t very talkative this evening, it made it simple