Monica Murphy - Three Broken Promises

Doesn’t she know she’s irreplaceable? “Did you find another job?” It’s the only explanation. And if she hated working here that much, I wish she would have told me. I could have done something to make it better for her here.

But what? What more can I do?

Slowly she shakes her head. “I’m leaving.”

What the hell? “Going back home, then?” I find it hard to believe, but maybe she’s finally ready to see her mom and dad after everything that’s happened, after she ran away. She’s never gone back and I know they miss her. Her mom has called me more than once asking about her. I know they’ve talked but it’s rare, and that’s on Jen’s part. Maybe she’s had a change of heart.

There’s really no other explanation for her leaving. At least in my mind.

“No.” She spits the word out as if it were poison and drops her hand from her neck, straightening her shoulders. “I refuse to go back home. I’m moving to Sacramento.”

“Sacramento? Are you kidding me? Why?” I’m at a loss. I can’t figure out her motive, why she wants to leave, and what the hell Sacramento has to offer that’s so much goddamn better than what I can give her.

“I need a change of pace, okay? I’m tired of the small-town thing. I run into the same people again and again. Most of them I don’t want to see anyway.” She starts to walk past me. “We so shouldn’t be having this conversation here.”

I grab her again, stopping her progress. Curling my fingers tight around her upper arm, I pull her in close, invading her space. Her scent fills my head, like an exotic bloom that permeates the air, fragrant and heavy. Intoxicating. My gaze drops to her mouth, and I’m momentarily transfixed as she sinks her teeth into her plump lower lip.

Fuck . This is pure torture. Having her close. Arguing with her where anyone could see us. Acting like lovers in the middle of a heated discussion . . .

We pretend we don’t really matter to each other, but it’s time for me to be honest with myself. She’s so immersed in my world, I can’t imagine her out of it.

I don’t want to imagine her out of it.

“Where else do you suggest we have this conversation, then?” I ask, keeping my voice low and as even as possible. While deep inside, I want to rage and yell and throw shit.

Jen can’t leave me. What she’s saying, I can’t even begin to comprehend.

“Your house?” She rolls her eyes and actually laughs. “Not that we ever really talk there, though, do we? We never really talk anywhere.”

Letting her go, I step away from her, needing the distance. She’s right. Our situation is . . . weird. I take care of her because of my own twisted sense of guilt, and she stays with me because where else is she going to go? I know she appreciates all I’ve done for her. We keep our linked past a secret from the other employees at the restaurant with the exception of Fable. Jen confessed our long connection months ago.

At first, I was mad that Jen told her about our shared history. Then I got over it. I like Fable. She’s troubled—was extremely troubled when I first hired her, but she’s come out of her shell, and she and Jen are now best friends. I’ve even become somewhat friends with her boyfriend. Hell, the four of us have gone out to dinner together once or twice, like we’re on a double date or something.

Stupid that I can keep what’s between Jen and me so casual, so . . . easy, but I can’t turn it into something real. Something true. I’m just too damn afraid to make a move for fear I’ll ruin it.

Considering I’ve ruined a few things in my personal life, it’s a legitimate fear.

“You really want to talk when we get home? We’ll talk,” I finally suggest.

Her eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Absolutely. Whatever you want, all you have to do is ask.” I spread my arms wide, then let them drop to my sides. She’s watching me with those dark, fathomless eyes, taking me in, making me want to squirm. She’s tall in the heels, almost eye level with me, and I’m a solid six-one.

“Whatever I want, you’ll give me.” It’s a statement, not a question, and I wonder at it.

“It’s yours,” I agree. “When have I ever denied you anything?”

She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You deny me almost every day of your life.”

I scratch the back of my head, puzzled. She means something else, I know it, but I can’t figure out what. Plus, I’m tired as fuck and not in the mood for a bunch of games, not that Jen is a game player. But she’s being evasive. Mysterious. Trying to pull a fast one on me, I’m sure.

“Make your request. I’ll do my best to accommodate you.” I grimace the moment the words come out. I sound like a boss, which I am.

A tiny smile curves her lips. “All right, then. Let me go. Let me do this, Colin. I can’t be dependent on you forever.”

Realization washes over me, making me feel like a fool. “Is that the problem? That you feel bad because I help you out? You’re never a burden, Jen. You know this.”

“No, I don’t know, but that’s not the point.” Sighing, her smile turns sad. “I appreciate your help. More than anything, I appreciate how you pulled me out of a bad situation before it could’ve become . . . a lot worse. You saved me.”

“It was the least I could do.” A major understatement. If I couldn’t save her brother, my best friend, then I could at least save his baby sister.

“And I’m forever grateful to you for it. Really. But I gotta admit, I’m tired of being saved by you. Of being the problem you’re constantly trying to solve. I want to leave. I need my freedom to try something new and explore other options. Staying here in this stupid small town doing the same thing day in and day out won’t solve my problems.”

“You have problems?” Why hasn’t she told me about them?

“Yes! Tons of them. All sorts of problems, but you don’t notice because you’re too wrapped up with your own.”

Isn’t that the truth! “I don’t want to give you your freedom just so you’ll leave me,” I murmur, feeling like a selfish ass. The look on her face tells me she thinks I’m an ass for saying it too. “Ask me for anything else, Jen. Anything. I . . . I don’t want to let you go. Not yet.”

Irritation flits across her face, making her lips thin, her eyes narrow. “Ask you for anything else?”

“Anything. I’ll give it to you. No questions asked.”

“All right.” She takes a deep breath, as if she needs it for courage. “I want you .”

Jen

He’s staring at me as if I’ve lost my mind, which I probably have. What possessed me to just say that? He’s going to reject me. I feel it in my bones. Not that I blame him. We wouldn’t work. I know this. So does he. I’m keeping a huge secret from him that I can never let him know. That alone will prevent us from having any sort of a relationship.

But I couldn’t help myself. I had to say it. I think he secretly wants me, too.

“You don’t want me,” he finally says, dropping his head to stare down at the floor, a self-deprecating chuckle escaping him. “Trust me.”

Every single day that passes, he breaks my heart. The way he just said that, those six words infused with so much sadness, threatens to shatter my already broken heart into a bazillion pieces.

“You said I could ask for anything,” I remind him, my voice small. “No questions asked.” I throw his words back at him because I can.

He tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling, seeming at a loss for words, which I don’t think I’ve ever seen happen before. The man is a talker. A charmer. He has to be, as successful as he’s been at such a young age. Yeah, his extremely wealthy and negligent dad gave him money to start the first restaurant he owns, but everything else he’s accomplished has been all him.