I spent the rest of the day in my apartment, torturing myself by ordering Negative Exposure through an online movie rental site. I could understand why Jackson had shot to fame after this movie. He was amazing in it, a conflicted hero with a troubled past, struggling to make moral decisions against a tide of government corruption. It was an exciting movie with a lot of action, but what drew me in were the quiet moments, when Jackson's character wrestled with making the right choices. His stark desperation seemed real and I could see the pain in his eyes when he realized his mistakes. He had a love interest in the movie, Mason Jennings, a breathtakingly beautiful brunette. I couldn't help feeling jealous when I watched their love scenes, even though I knew it wasn't real. Before, when I had seen Jackson and Claire kissing during their play, I had naively just smiled, proclaiming that they were just acting. Now I knew it had been more than that.
When Mason Jennings' character turned out to be a traitor working for the corrupt government, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at Jackson's betrayal, even if it was his fictional character that was duped. I watched the movie multiple times, drinking in the sight of Jackson, knowing that I was being self-destructive.
I felt pathetic when I jumped every time my phone rang, but Jackson never called. Days blended into weeks and by the time the crisp autumn air descended on New York, I was back in a routine and not checking my phone compulsively. I had stopped looking up Jackson online and studiously avoided any entertainment news shows, but I couldn't help catching glances of him on magazine covers. There were reports that there was trouble in Jackson's relationship with Candace with rumors that they had split.
It was a gusty autumn morning when I passed by a newsstand on my way to work and saw a picture of Jackson on the front cover of a gossip magazine, his head down and his hands in his pockets with the headline Jackson Reynard depressed and heartbroken? emblazoned on the front.
I couldn't resist picking up the magazine, jolted by the fact that the picture looked as if it were taken in New York. I wondered if he was back, not knowing how recent the picture had been taken. I flipped through the pages until I got to the article about Jackson. Apparently, he had been spotted in various locations throughout New York, looking forlorn and depressed. It fueled the gossip that he and Candace Stile had broken up, although their publicists had denied them ever having been together. According to the magazine, the pictures of Jackson had been taken recently and my pulse quickened at the thought of Jackson in New York.
I sighed, dismayed that I was still fixated on Jackson. I forced myself to put the magazine down, dodging the censorious glance of the newsstand owner when I didn't buy the magazine.
Work was a welcome distraction, as was Drew's invitation to lunch. We had grown even closer over the last few weeks and I was grateful for his friendship.
We decided to take a leisurely lunch instead of a quick bite since we both had open afternoons. Celeste booked a table for us at an upscale seafood restaurant nearby and I breathed a sigh of relief when we settled in at our table, the murmurings of business lunches around us filling the large space.
"It feels nice to actually catch my breath and eat a decent meal," I said wryly after we had ordered. "Much better than downing a sandwich while looking over market reports."
"It's good to get away from the office sometimes," Drew agreed. "Especially with Celeste breathing down my neck all the time. The floodgates seemed to have opened ever since I asked her about you, and now she thinks she has a right to know about my personal life." Drew grinned wryly. "Just yesterday she was asking me if I got enough fiber in my diet."
I burst out laughing, shaking my head at Celeste's typical behavior. Drew was right about Celeste invading his private life. She had previously respected the boundaries Drew had drawn in their professional relationship, but even I had noticed the change in him since we had first met. He was much more laid back and less intense, willing to let little things go with an indulgent smile. Celeste insisted she had never seen Drew like this, and she was convinced that I had something to do with the change, but I believed it had more to do with Celeste barreling into his life. Now that the nature of their relationship had changed, Celeste was able to breathe life into his somewhat stolid lifestyle.
I felt a shadow pass over us and I looked up, expecting to see the waiter with our food. My smile disappeared when I saw Jackson staring at me, looking unamused. Despite my shock, I drank in the sight of him greedily. He was wearing dark grey pants that were tailored perfectly for his body and a black belt showing off his flat stomach. His crisp white oxford shirt displayed his broad shoulders, a contrast to his tanned skin. A lock of dark brown hair fell on his forehead, above piercing green eyes that pinned me to my seat.
"Emma," he bit out, a muscle twitching in his cheek. "This is a surprise."
"Jackson," I said, trying to gain control of my emotions. "I...didn't expect to see you again."
Jackson glanced at Drew, whose eyebrows were raised in surprise. It was obvious that Drew recognized Jackson. Actually, it was glaringly obvious that everyone around us recognized Jackson. The tables around us had quieted as people leaned in eagerly to overhear our conversation. Jackson was right about New Yorkers. They didn't flock to celebrities but they couldn't hide their avid interest.
"That's apparent," Jackson said flatly, as his gaze settled back on me.
"Well...it was good seeing you," I stammered, wanting Jackson to leave our table as quickly as possible.
Jackson cocked an eyebrow in challenge. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"
Drew cleared his throat and stood, drawing both of our gazes to him. His surprise over recognizing Jackson had disappeared, replaced with a look of speculation.
"I'm Drew Stephens," he said as he held out his hand, looking at Jackson with a less than approving look. It was hard to miss Jackson's antagonistic tone.
"We work together," I chimed in quickly as I watched Jackson stiffly take Drew's hand. I couldn't help comparing the two as they stood across from each other. Jackson was taller but Drew was wider, as brawny as Jackson was leanly muscled. Drew looked decidedly masculine with broad features that conveyed a sense of power and control. Jackson was pure male beauty, his straight nose and firm full lips gracing a face that radiated intelligence and intensity. They were polar opposites and were now staring each other down.
"Jackson Reynard," he said shortly, looking back down at me when their hands dropped. "Emma and I are...old friends."