was the one he’d been looking for. And it was as simple as that.
“Did I lose you, Jesse?”
“Nope,” he told his agent. “Still here.”
“Is everything all right in your world?”
Jesse laughed. He could never tell Beverly what was going on. If he told her that a really special woman was staying in the rental house next door and he’d fallen in love with her, his agent would dump his ass as a client. Then she’d send an emissary to Key West to track him down and shoot him where he stood. And Jesse wouldn’t blame her one bit.
“Everything’s fine,” he said.
“Then get the manuscript to them by tomorrow morning.”
He shook his head, disgusted with himself. How had he gotten into this mess? He had to finish a book and win Gail back—at the same time. “Fine. Tell them it’s on the way.”
He hung up. He sat down at his desk once more, knowing he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.
HOLLY SCOOTED THE CHAIR closer to the desktop computer and signed in to her Internet account, warning everyone that her typing might not be up to snuff on a strange keyboard.
“Then let me do it,” Hannah said, pulling up the chair to her right.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Holly shook her head. “This is my mother’s heartache, so it’s only right I should get the honors.”
Gail took the seat to the left of her daughter, cautiously sipping at the hot cup of coffee in her hand. It had taken some convincing, but she’d agreed to accompany the girls to the Internet café in Old Town to do a little research on J. D. Batista, master of fiction, in both his books and his life.
She had nothing else to do. They were leaving the next morning. Besides, she’d cried so much that they were out of tissues at the house.
“Okay, girls!” Holly said in what Gail thought was a voice far too perky for the occasion. “Get on Google and let’s search the living crap out of him!”
A couple of clicks on the keyboard, and there he was. That sure didn’t take long. Gail had to admit that Jesse looked exceptionally handsome in his publicity shot, and that yes, the picture did look familiar. She’d probably seen his face and his books in a dozen bookstores over the years, but since she didn’t read that stuff, it never registered with her. She peered closer to the photo, deciding something looked off about him. He wasn’t wearing his little silver earring, for starters. He was clean-shaven. And his eyes seemed friendly but empty somehow. Flat.
Gail sat up straight. Her chest pulled tight. The reason Jesse’s publicity picture looked strange to her was that it wasn’t the Jesse she knew. What she was looking at was his public face, and she’d seen him only on his home turf. Gail had become accustomed to Jesse’s eyes when he looked at her—when they made love, danced, laughed together, or walked hand in hand. Maybe he’d been himself with her that week, after all.
“Check this out!” Holly pulled up several articles about Jesse’s legal troubles. Gail had to admit the woman who made the charges was easy on the eyes. She looked elegant. She looked believable. But when Holly read aloud some of the ugly details, Gail felt nauseous.
The woman’s claims made Jesse sound like a monster. Granted, Gail had known him only for nine days, but never once had she seen any of the traits his accuser described. Gail had seen only generosity, tenderness and passion. Until last night, that is, when he dropped the “full disclosure” bomb on her.
“I don’t like spying on him like this,” Gail suddenly announced, rising from her seat near the computer. “I’ve seen enough to know that Jesse told me the truth about who he is and what happened with that woman. I don’t need to know anymore.”
“Ah, c’mon, Ms. Chapman!” Hannah said, smiling. “If you’re getting back into the dating scene, you’re definitely going to need to know how to do this!”
That sure buoyed her spirits. “I’ll be over by the window. Let me know if anything really bad comes up.”
Holly looked at her as if she was crazy. “This isn’t bad enough for you?”
Gail took a deep breath. How was she going to explain this to her daughter? She never wanted Holly to think it was all right for a man to deceive a woman, because it never was. That had been the central lesson in Gail’s catastrophic marriage