Roland Perenski, her last love interest, had appeared in her mind in that moment, but she hadn’t been with him in two years. She hadn’t even heard from him. She was pretty sure he’d married the woman he’d dated after her.
Francesca: “Just stop. I don’t want to talk to you anymore, especially about my love life.”
Jonah hadn’t spoken again, even to say goodbye when she got out of the car. She’d slammed the door, climbed into her BMW and headed directly home, but she was still thinking about him. Why, she couldn’t say. So what if he looked better than ever? With that thick dark hair falling across his forehead, the slight cleft in his chin and the perennial five-o’clock shadow that was such a marked contrast to his light green eyes and wide sexy smile, he’d always turned heads.
No, it was never his looks she’d had a problem with.
A noise outside her window sent her heart pounding, so she threw off the covers and sat up. Forget trying to sleep; this was torture.
Grabbing the cordless phone from her nightstand, she called her best friend, Adriana Covington, and refused to feel the slightest bit guilty for disturbing her. If anyone deserved to be awakened in the middle of the night as a result of Jonah’s reappearance, it was Adriana.
“Hello?” her friend mumbled.
Grateful that Adriana’s husband hadn’t answered, Francesca toyed with the locket she wore around her neck. “You sleeping?”
“Isn’t that what most people do at three in the morning?” There was no irritation in her voice, only curiosity. “Where are you?”
“Home.”
“What’s going on? I thought maybe you were in trouble.”
Francesca led a very stable life. She wasn’t currently in a relationship so there was no romantic angst. She worked too much to date very often and rarely hung out at bars or other singles’ gatherings unless it was to stop by for a few minutes after work with Heather, her twenty-two-year-old receptionist. That gave Heather a break from the constraints of her single-parent life. Francesca didn’t consider herself a success in the “popular girl” category, but she’d established quite a glowing reputation in the investigative industry, especially after finding Janice Grey’s remains. That investigation hadn’t ended the way anyone would hope, but she’d been able to give Janice’s family resolution and justice. Sometimes that was all a client could ask.
Anyway, it wasn’t as if late-night calls were usual for her. “I ran into Jonah today.”
A long silence ensued. Finally, Adriana muttered, “Hang on. I’m going into the other room.”
Francesca probed her sore lip with her tongue while she waited. When Adriana came back on the line, she noticed that her friend sounded far less sleepy. Funny how the mention of Jonah could do that.
“Where did you see him?”
Even with all the other guys who’d come afterward, for both of them, Adriana hadn’t needed a last name. There’d been only one Jonah. And neither one of them would ever forget him. “In Prescott.”
“He lives there?”
“No, I think he lives in California. He works for a private security contractor based in L.A.”
“What’s Prescott got to do with anything, then?”
“He’s consulting on a case in Yavapai County, which is where my own case took me today.”
“Is he married?”
“I don’t think so. He’s not wearing a ring.”
“Okay. So…what happened? What’d he say?”
“Nothing, really. Our paths sort of…collided, that’s all.” She’d humiliated herself in front of him, but explaining that would only repeat the humiliation.
“I don’t understand. You don’t have anything to say about it?”
She had plenty to say. She just didn’t know how to get it out. “I guess not.”
“Are you telling me this to make me feel terrible again, Fran? To punish me? You think what I did isn’t hard enough to live with?”
Francesca covered her face. Calling Adriana had been a mistake. She’d forgiven her, hadn’t she? She’d told her she had; they’d patched up their friendship and moved on. “No. I’m telling you because…I needed to tell someone. And that’s what best friends are for.”
“What you’re saying is…you still have feelings for him.”
“No! I… It was a shock, that’s all.”
“A shock.”
“Yes.”
“And now you want someone to tell you that whatever you felt was normal.”
She’d felt as if she had an anvil crushing her chest. Could she really expect anyone to tell her that was normal? “Maybe that’s it. I mean, how much could he have meant to me? We were all so young, only what…twenty-three?”
“But you’ve never gotten over him, never fell in love so deeply again.”
“Of course I’ve gotten over him.” As for love, love was overrated.
“I know better.” Adriana blew out a sigh. “God, I made a mess of things, didn’t I?”
Francesca had never felt so torn between wanting to punish and wanting to console. It was true that Adriana had made a terrible mistake. She’d destroyed Francesca’s relationship with Jonah. And she’d nearly destroyed their friendship, too, a friendship that had lasted since preschool. But Jonah deserved his share of the blame. It wasn’t as if Francesca could hold Adriana entirely responsible for the affair. As a matter of fact, during the past several years, she’d found it easier and easier to pin most of the blame on Jonah. That had enabled her and Adriana to go on as though there’d never been a betrayal.
“It’s over,” she said. “It’s behind us. I just…” What? Wanted the pain to go away for good? Couldn’t imagine why seeing Jonah had been so earth-shattering? What was she hoping to accomplish by dragging Adriana back into that vortex of hurt and recrimination?
“I wish I could undo what I did,” Adriana said. “Not a day goes by that I don’t regret hurting you. But…it’s too late, Fran. There’s no way I can change what I did. All I can do is tell you how sorry—”
“Don’t. You’ve apologized enough.” Why torture her? She’d had to give up her baby, hadn’t she? That must’ve been hard. The pregnancy had been hard, too. She’d been sick for five of the eight months it’d lasted and bedridden for the final three.