That was why my heart did a somersault when I saw Jackson on the sidewalk when I left Andrews, looking larger than life. I was caught totally off guard and was in danger of throwing up the grilled cheese and tomato soup I had just wolfed down. Jackson looked as surprised as I did. He also looked utterly gorgeous in a grey suit and a long black coat. His hair was still shaggy, which made him seemed less untouchable, but just by a fraction.
"Emma! I didn't expect to see you here." His breath misted in the cold air as his eyes seemed to drink me in.
"I guess it's a surprise for both of us," I replied with an uncomfortable smile. "I was in the neighborhood for a meeting, so I decided to stop by Andrews for lunch."
I blinked in surprise when I saw a flash go off, blinding me temporarily. Even though it was in the afternoon, the winter sky was dark as if there was an impending storm and the flash made my vision cloud.
"Crap." Jackson moved to block me from the photographer, but it proved to be futile when a few more men joined him, their cameras taking pictures frantically. It had been a while since I had paparazzi take my picture and I wondered if it had anything to do with the article in Vanity Fair.
"Come on," Jackson said, grabbing my hand and steering me away from the photographers. I followed him blindly, the panic of being followed by the photographers overtaking any reservations I had about being with Jackson. We ducked into a building and I noticed too late that we were in the lobby of Jackson's apartment building.
"What are we doing here?" I asked warily.
"I'm trying to evade the paparazzi. They know better than to try and come in here." Jackson raised his brows at me. "Unless you want to take your chances with them outside. Be my guest."
I sighed, spotting Sam smiling widely at us. "Emma! Good to see you!"
"It's good to see you too, Sam," I said with a half-hearted smile. Sam walked over to the elevators and pressed the button to call for it. He waved us in when the doors opened.
"We're not going up, Sam," I said, shaking my head. "We're just trying to wait out the photographers."
"It's going to be a while," Jackson interjected with a shrug of his shoulders. "We might as well wait it out being comfortable."
I didn't know what possessed me to follow him into the elevator. I cursed myself for falling right back into the same pattern of letting Jackson dictate our actions, but he was right. The photographers were foaming at the mouth in front of the lobby, waiting for us to leave. Maybe waiting them out was the answer.
I glanced at Jackson sideways as we rode up to the sixteenth floor. "You look nice."
Jackson quirked his mouth as he looked over at me. "I had a meeting."
I nodded my head, not asking for a further explanation. The strained civility was taxing and I didn't want to continue our stilted conversation. I followed Jackson silently to his apartment when we arrived on his floor, and my speechlessness continued when I stepped inside. The apartment looked completely different. The utilitarian furniture had been changed to furnishings that were more modern and the walls were now a light grey instead of stark white. I noticed that the small changes Jackson and I had previously made were still intact, at least in the living room. The apartment still looked comfortable but much more updated.
"You've redecorated," I commented offhandedly, not wanting Jackson to see how taken aback I was.
"This was the surprise you were supposed to see when I asked you to come over in my letter."
I nodded my head, not knowing what to say as I walked around his living room, my fingers trailing on the back of the black couch. "I would've been surprised."
"Do you want something to drink?" Jackson looked as awkward as I felt standing next to the breakfast table, which was now made of glass and chrome instead of the scarred wooden table we had eaten countless meals on.
"No. I probably won't be here long." The corners of Jackson's mouth turned down at my words but he didn't protest. Instead, he took off his coat, draping it on the back of a chair, and walked towards me. I resisted the urge to back away, but he just sat down on the sofa, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. He looked up at me standing next to the sofa.
"Make yourself comfortable."
I gingerly sat down on the sofa, leaving plenty of space between us, but I didn't take off my coat. Jackson looked amused but didn't comment. I cleared my throat after a few beats, the silence becoming too strained.
"How have you been?"
"I've been surviving. You?"
I nodded my head. "Me too."
"How's work?"
"It's going well. I just landed a new client." I couldn't believe we were having this banal conversation, but it was better than screaming at each other.
"Congratulations. I always knew you'd succeed at anything you chose to do."
"Thanks." I nervously played with the buttons on my coat. "How about you?"
"I just flew in from L.A. this morning. I have a few meetings in town before I leave again."
"That's good."
Jackson sat up suddenly and I suppressed a gasp at his abrupt movement. I was relieved when all he did was ask me another question. "What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"
"Going home to Maryland. What about you?"
"Same. Going home to Westchester."
"Tell your mother I said hello."
"My mother's not too happy with you at the moment."
I sputtered at Jackson's statement. "What do you mean, she's not happy with me?"
Jackson smiled at me, looking wistful. "I told her you broke my heart, so she's holding a grudge. She's actually taking my side this time."
I shook my head, not wanting to talk about our failed relationship. I was done arguing about who was right and who was wrong. All that mattered now was that it was over. "Okay, never mind then."
We sat in silence again, both jumping when Jackson's apartment phone rang. Jackson got up with a bemused look on his face, hitting a button on the phone instead of picking up the receiver.
"Mr. Reynard, Claire Ranson is here to see you," said Sam's disembodied voice on the speakerphone.
I had thought "seeing red" was just an expression, but in that moment, I knew it could literally happen. I shot up from the couch, seeing a haze of red as I glared at Jackson, unable to speak through my rage. Jackson watched me warily as he spoke to Sam.
"Sam, hold on." Jackson pressed a button before turning back to me, his expression enigmatic. "Do you know what this is about?"