She bites the corner of her bottom lip. I know that she's searching for the right thing to say. This conversation is touching her the same way it's touching me. "What do you mean?"
I swallow hard before I pull in a heavy deep breath. "He loves her as much today as he did the day he married her. He told me he'll never stop loving her. She owns the other half of his heart."
Her eyes fill with tears, her hands grab tightly to mine as she whispers the words, "You own my heart too. You do."
***
"What the hell you talking about?" I ask, the tone of my voice unmistakably loud and clear.
She pushes past me the entire time whispering something into the microphone attached to her earpiece. "I don't have time for this right now. Can't you see we're completely full?"
I quickly pull my eyes around the near capacity restaurant. "I don't care. Where the fuck is Jessica?"
She turns sharply to face me. "I'm a hostess. I'm not a babysitter. I don't know where Jessica Roth is. I do know that she called in sick only an hour before we opened. It's the third time in the past month."
The third time in a month? What the hell is going on? Jessica hasn't been sick. I stopped at the apartment on my way home from work to drop off my laptop and she wasn't there. I came here to see her because I felt badly about last night. I got called into conference call right after dinner. We were both overwrought with emotion after talking about Mr. Wilkinson and his wife's death.
"I don't have time to stand and talk to you." The hostess isn't very hospitable. "When you do see her you should tell her that she's on dangerous ground right now. There are a lot of people that want to work here."
I shift on my feet and step closer to her, blocking her path away from me. The only way around me is through me. "My name is Nathan Moore. I'm an attorney." Hell, yes, I'm going to play that card. "It sounds as though you're threatening Ms. Roth."
"You're an attorney," she says the words with obvious disdain. "I should've known by the suit. What's with all the suits who want to talk to Jessica? Is she in some kind of trouble?"
Again, I'm being thrown into the middle of the ring of confusion that is Jessica's life. "What did the other suit want?" Christ, let there be only one other man in a suit looking to talk to my suddenly popular girlfriend.
She scans her eyes over my face before they dart behind me. "I'm too busy for this. He looked like an attorney too."
I step forward a touch. Intimidating this woman isn't going to be easy. It's obvious that she thinks her hostess job is vital to the earth continuing to spin on its axis. "What did he look like?" I don't know why I'm asking. I have no idea what guy in a suit would be coming to talk to Jessica at work. I also have no clue why the fuck she hasn't talked to me about it.
She stomps her foot as if that's going to magically make me disappear. "He was older than you. I'd say he's even more handsome than you." There's no mistaking the spite dripping from that.
Whatever. Jesus, this woman is annoying as all fuck. She must be new, that, or she's so forgettable that I can't place her within my mind. "Did you see him talking to Jessica?" I know I sound desperate. That's because I am. Obviously, I need to look to anyone, including this stranger, to help me understand what's going on with the woman I'm sharing my bed with.
"Yes." Her eyes spring back to my face. "They talked in the corner and then she started crying and he took off." Her hand flies through the air past my head towards the entrance to Axel NY.
"He was only in here the one time?" The question doesn't come out with all the apprehension I'm feeling. Shit. Who is the guy she's talking about?
"No." She stops as if she's unwilling to share more. I'd venture a guess that it's more about her enjoying being the one in control. She knows she's dangling something I want right in front of my face and I'm going to have to acquiesce to whatever she wants to get it from her.
"Listen," I pause. My eyes search her plain black dress for a nametag. There's nothing.
"Sasha," she offers.
Sasha? Really? The only Sasha I knew was back in Boston. I met her in a club and she definitely lived up to the name. This Sasha looks like she doesn't even comprehend the meaning of the word sexy. She's serious, through and through.
"Sasha," I repeat back in an even a tone as I can muster. "Did the man who came to see Jessica only visit her here once?" That sounds semi-professional.
"You're dating her, aren't you?" She just went off the track at full speed. "I've seen you in here before. I saw your hand on her ass."
Guilty as charged. How am I supposed to keep my hands off Jessica? That's almost impossible. "We do date, yes." Stilted much, Nathan?
"Is she dating him too?" There's a question I never saw coming. "I mean, does she have a thing for lawyers?"
I pull my hands to my face, massaging my temples with brisk, easy circles. "She has a thing for me," I say with confidence. I'd bet my right hand and foot that Jessica's not cheating on me. That can't be what's going on. Maybe that's just my male pride talking, but the way that woman looks at me and the way she reacts to my body, I know there's little chance that she's jumping into another guy's bed.
"She kissed him."
The proclamation bounces around in my ears before it sinks into my brain. "Jessica kissed him?" I repeat back. I didn't hear that correctly. There's no wa