Giant puzzle pieces floating above my head started moving into place.
Jamie: Ryan James.
MIT: College on the East Coast.
Building schools in Africa: Tribal tattoos. I’ve traveled a lot.
Hands-on approach: I clean this pool, I can swim in it anytime I want.
Me: Is this R.J.’s boat? Jamie: It’s my boat.
Me: What’s your last name? Jamie: No more talking.
Tears began falling onto the papers in my hand. I looked down at the smudge I’d created in Jamie’s handwriting. It was a note—one I hadn’t seen. The morning I had left, the maids had cleaned before I packed. They had gathered all of my paperwork into a pile, and this note, the note that could have changed everything, got lost in the mix somehow.
Katy, my angel,
I had to go to Portland. My father had a heart attack, and they don’t know if he’s going to make it through the night. Please don’t leave. If I can’t get back by tomorrow, I’ll send a car and get you a flight up here. Please, please don’t leave. I have something really important to tell you, besides the fact that I am completely in love with you.
—J
I sobbed loudly. Beth was hovering over me within seconds. “What’s wrong?”
“J . . . Jamie is . . .”
“What, Kate?”
“Jamie is R.J.” I finally got it out.
“You mean the guy, the one you fell for?”
“Yes,” I groaned.
“Well, then, who was the R.J. you met?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you sure?” I nodded. “So if Jamie is R.J., then the article . . .”
“Oh my god, I thought he destroyed me, but I’ve destroyed him. He’s not that man.” I pointed to the article pinned to the cubicle partition. “He’s a good man with a big heart.” I sniffled. “He’s brilliant and he works so hard. How could I have not put it together?” I held the note up. “And on top of everything else, he’s in love with me!”
“Shit, Kate. Why did he lie to you?” I swallowed back the lump taking over my throat. I stood and looked up at Jerry’s office, which sat perched above the bull pen. Jerry was standing at the large glass window, talking on the phone and staring down at me. He pointed to the receiver at his ear and mouthed, Lawson. He’s here. I flew toward the bathroom. Beth followed. She held my hair while I puked the entire contents of my stomach into the toilet.
“You should go home. I’ll talk to Jerry.”
“Thank you,” was all I could get out. I went back to my cubicle and grabbed my coat but left my suitcase and paperwork, except for the note. When I glanced up at Jerry’s office, I could see that Beth was already there, talking with a sober look on her face.
I darted out of the bull pen and chose to use the service elevator, hoping to avoid Jamie, or R.J., or whoever he was. I beelined through the lobby, pushed both glass doors open forcefully, and headed out onto the street. I stopped within a few feet of the entrance when I spotted him. He was leaning against a concrete wall, looking down at his feet. He was wearing a black suit with a white dress shirt. The top buttons were undone and his hair was slicked back.
His eyes were sad and shadowed with dark circles. I stuffed the note into my pocket and began to rush past him with my head down, hoping he wouldn’t see me.
He stood up to block me. “Wait,” was all he said.
I squared my shoulders and put my hand on my hip. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“I flew straight here after my father’s funeral.” His voice cracked at the last second.
“I’m sorry, Jamie . . . R.J. . . . whoever you are.” I had sympathy for him, for his loss and for the stupid article, but I was so hurt by his lies and the problems they’d caused. I turned to walk away. He grabbed my shoulders and turned me back toward him.
“Everyone I know calls me Jamie. And I’m sorry, too, Kate.” He tried to pull me closer.
I pounded my fists against his chest. “You’re a liar.” I started to cry. “You lied to me while I was naked in your arms. And the article . . . you made me a fraud, and you ruined my career.” I tried to pull away but he held me. “Why did you approve it?”
“I didn’t. If I didn’t respond within forty-eight hours, he had a right to print it. It was in the contract.” He stepped away and looked down at his feet. “I was busy mourning the only family I had left.”
Wiping the tears from my face, I stood up straight and regained my composure. “I am truly sorry for your loss. I’m sorry for this whole big mess. I wish I had never gone out there. I wish I had never met you.”
“How can you say that?” He gripped the outside of my arms and stared down at me with a desperate pleading in his eyes. “Do you really mean that?”
“If you hadn’t lied to me, I wouldn’t have written a fucked-up fake article about you.” I yanked my arms out of his grip. “Who the hell was that guy I interviewed?”
“His name is Bradley Reis. He’s a friend of Susan’s—or was, I should say. She thought he would fit the part.”
“Fit the part?” I shook my head.
“I know, it seems so stupid now. I didn’t want to give up my privacy. I wanted to be able to walk around the winery and just be myself, just be Jamie. I was afraid if I met with a reporter, everyone would know who I was and hound me.”
“That’s not what would have happened.”
“I panicked. Susan said all we had to do was write down information about the winery and Bradley would just try to avoid all the personal questions. I never liked him and shouldn’t have trusted him.” Jamie was staring at his shoes. “I don’t think he expected you to be so persistent. I think he thought he could charm you.” He looked up and smiled timidly.
“Your little plan backfired, didn’t it? Now you’ve ruined your reputation and my career.”
“Jerry said Beth could write a rowback.”
“That’s great for you. Your name will be cleared, but I’ll still be out of a job.”
“I’ll do whatever I need to do to make this right.” His eyes watered a bit and then he swallowed. In a low voice, he said, “Why did you leave?”
“I didn’t see the note until today, but everything happens for a reason, doesn’t it?”
I turned to walk away but he followed. “Katy, I know you don’t believe that.”
“Don’t call me that,” I said without turning back. He grabbed my arm and swung me around. I gasped. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Stop this now! This is crazy,” he growled. He searched my eyes, still holding my arm tightly. “Just stop and give me a fucking chance.”
“You’re hurting me.” He let go instantly. “I barely know you. It was four days. Four days I wish I could get back,” I said in a calm, even tone.
He straightened up and squared his shoulders. “You’re a liar.”
“You’re the fucking liar.”
“I don’t care about the article. They don’t need to correct it. You can call me a liar, an asshole, whatever you want, but I know that four days meant something to you. I don’t care about my reputation or the money. Nothing!”
“What do you care about, Jamie? Making wine, singing karaoke, lying about who you are?” I continued walking quickly ahead of him.
“I care about you.” His tone wasn’t soft; it was matter-of-fact, the way a person sounds when they’re telling an absolute truth.