Nowhere but Here

  When we left the hospital, there was a town car waiting. “What’s that?” I asked.

  “I thought a cab might be too bumpy.”

  “Oh no, Jamie. That’s too much money.”

  He turned and braced my shoulders. “Kate, I probably will never have to worry about money, and I don’t think you will, either. I don’t spend it on frivolous things. You have a major head injury and I don’t want you jolted around in a cab.”

  I crossed my eyes at him and laughed. “Do you think my brain is gonna be okay?”

  He pulled me toward the car. “Come on, silly girl.”

  In the town car he ran his hand up and down my leg nervously. “I don’t think this is such a good idea. I should just get you home.”

  “I’m not fragile.”

  “Yes, you are. Right now, you are. We can get takeout and go back to your apartment.”

  “Are you going to spoon-feed me, too?”

  He turned abruptly. His eyes focused on my lips. Smiling he said, “Maybe,” and then he leaned in and tugged on my bottom lip with his teeth. “I love your mouth, even when you’re being a smart-mouth.”

  “Well, now that I think about it, your plan might not be so bad. After all, you can’t very well lick food off my body in a public place.”

  “Good point, although I’d be willing to challenge that argument. Just not today.”

  I waited in the car while Jamie went into the restaurant and picked up our food. He practically ran back out to the car and slid in, scanning me up and down.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, it’s been five minutes.”

  He gave my address to the driver as if he had said it a million times.

  “That was pretty good, Jamie.”

  “I have one of those memories.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He glanced up to the ceiling of the car, looking almost self-conscious, and then shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Oh, the genius thing? What, you have a photographic memory?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Tell me. I want to know everything about you.”

  “Okay, well this sounds scary, but I’m what’s called a mnemonist. I have a mnemonic memory.”

  “Sounds like demon possession.”

  “Yeah, it feels like it sometimes.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “It means I can remember long lists of numbers or names. I also have an eidetic memory. That’s kind of like a photographic memory.”

  “That must be amazing. No wonder you were able to breeze through school.”

  “It’s a blessing and a curse. Imagine remembering every laugh line on your dead mother’s face.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m so sorry. I never would have thought about it that way.” I paused, trying to read his expression. “It could be the other way around. I wish I could remember what my mother looked like. It seems like the only memory I have of her face is from a photograph.”

  “I think it would be easier that way.”

  “Is that what you think?” I snapped.

  He didn’t look over at me. He just reached for my hand, brought it to his mouth, and kissed it. Staring straight ahead, he said, “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”

  We were in the lobby of my apartment building within an hour of leaving the hospital, but Jamie was freaking out still.

  “Shall I carry you?”

  “Are you kidding me? There’s nothing wrong with my legs.”

  “I don’t want you to overdo it.” His arm was around my waist, practically lifting me off the ground. I wrapped my arm around his neck and held on.

  “You said that already. I promise, I’m fine. I got bonked on the head a little. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Katy, don’t minimize it.” He lowered his voice. “Do you know how many hours I sat in that hospital room not knowing if I’d have to watch my angel die?”

  “Aww, please don’t say that.”

  When we reached the elevator, I could feel another presence behind me. We entered and Jamie hit the button for my floor. Then I heard Stephen’s voice just as I turned to witness him entering the elevator after us.

  “Katy?” He was testing the word. No one besides Jamie had ever called me Katy. He was wearing suit pants and a dress shirt, no tie. His messenger bag was slung over his shoulder. He must’ve been coming home from work. “Stephen?”

  The expression in his eyes turned warm. I noticed that Jamie stood a little taller and angled his body in front of me.

  “I heard what happened to you.” I nodded. “I’m really sorry, I know how much you loved the subway.” He looked toward Jamie apprehensively and said, “Can I hug her?”

  Jamie arched his eyebrows. “That’s up to her.”

  I reached my arms out and gave Stephen a hug. He held me with true sincerity and said, “I’m really sorry.” It brought tears to my eyes. I knew he was sorry for more than just my injury.

  When the elevator doors opened on his floor, I smiled and said, “Good-bye, Stephen.”

  “Bye,” he said to the floor and walked out.

  I leaned back against Jamie. He wrapped his arms around me from behind.

  “That was my ex.”

  “I know.”

  “You remembered?”

  “I remember everything.”

  “Except how much insulin you’ve given yourself.”

  “I’ll admit, that was very unlike me. I was distracted that night by your transcendent beauty.”

  “Oh, stop,” I said, and then sniffled. He turned me and bent down to look me in the face. “Are you all right? Was it hard to see Stephen?”

  “No, that was good, actually. It’s amazing how nice people can be when they hear you’ve been in a coma.”

  When we reached my floor, I stepped out and noticed Dylan and Ashley standing near my apartment door. He held his arms out. “Welcoming committee!”

  “Thank you.” I laughed.

  “We don’t want to bother you guys while you get settled in, we just wanted to give you a hug and say welcome home.” They both hugged me at the same time.

  “You two are sweet.”

  My apartment looked untouched. I scurried around, embarrassed, trying to clean up, open the blinds, and air the place out. Jamie set the food on the counter and watched me until I stopped. “What?”

  “Your place is nice.”

  “I’m sure you don’t think that. It’s eight hundred square feet of uninspired space.”

  My apartment was a simple U-shape. The living room and kitchen were open to each other, and the windows faced the street. A short, skinny hallway led to my decent-size bedroom and bathroom, which had one window facing the courtyard at the back of my building. I joked that it had been finely decorated by the wonders of IKEA and Target, and Jamie laughed.

  I watched him slowly take it in. He picked up a framed photo of my mother that was sitting on a small end table. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

  “She was.”

  Jamie was a presence in my small apartment. He stood near the counter, taking the food containers from the bags and opening them up. When I approached him, he removed his jacket to reveal a plain white T-shirt. I ran my hands up his forearms and studied his strange tattoos. They were interwoven in a pale reddish ink. “Did you get all of these in Africa?” He nodded. I brought his hands to my mouth and kissed them. He gently pulled me up to kiss his mouth. His hand went to the back of my neck, just below my injury. I winced. He quickly pulled away.

  “See, we can’t do that,” he said.

  “I’m fine.”

  “It was too much. I could hurt you.”

  “I’m okay.” I grabbed the food and carried it to the small square table at the edge of my kitchen where it met th
e living room. “What would you like to drink?”

  “I’ll get it,” he said. “You sit down and eat.”

  “I’ll have a beer,” I announced.

  “I don’t think so, lush. You’re not allowed to drink on your medication.” I was taking a few different medications for the swelling and pain. “In fact, I think it’s time for one of your pills.”

  We ate practically in silence. I was starving and Jamie just sat there and watched me like a hawk, searching for any indication that I wasn’t perfectly comfortable. I took my medication and within half an hour I was feeling very groggy and ready for a nap. He walked me to my bedroom and motioned for me to sit at the edge of my bed. He removed my shoes and placed a soft kiss on the tops of both feet. He reached for my hands and lifted me to a standing position and then unbuttoned my jeans.

  “I can undress myself. Shouldn’t you check your blood sugar?”

  “I’m fine.” He pinched my chin with his thumb and forefinger and lifted my face until we were gazing into each other’s eyes. “I like undressing you.” He left me in panties and my T-shirt and then tucked me into bed.

  “Aren’t you getting in here with me?”

  “I would love to, but I think you need to get your rest. I have a few things to take care of. I need to call Susan and get my stuff from the hotel. Dylan said he would come and watch you so I could do that.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Well, I would feel better with someone here.”

  Page 16

  * * *

  Check Your Sources

  We spent the next week figuring out how to exist in such a small place together when Jamie wouldn’t allow me to do anything except lay around, read or watch TV. We had our first fight over whether or not I was allowed to bend down and shave my own legs . . . seriously.

  “I can do it for you. I’m very good with a razor.”

  “You’re insane. You’re not shaving my legs.”

  “I don’t think you should dip your head down, it might make you dizzy in the shower.”

  “You need to back off a little.” We were standing inches apart, face-to-face near the bathroom door. He towered over me, making me feel like a child.

  “No, I won’t!” He said in a determined voice. “That’s what I did before, and you ended up almost bleeding out on a fucking subway.”

  “This is not the same thing. Nothing is going to happen to me. You’re smothering me.”

  “I’m going for a run. Please wait to take a shower.” He lifted the bottom of his white T-shirt to draw his earbud wires up through the neck. He was wearing gray sweats and trainers. Jamie could pull off sweats—he had one of those low angled V-cut stomachs. The sweats hung just below where the side indentations began. My mouth dropped open. I thought about slipping my finger in and tugging the waistband of his sweats down. I was practically drooling, even though I was totally pissed at him. I looked up to find him glaring at me, with a thick sheen of moisture near his sideburns.

  “You’re sweating already, Jamie. Have you checked your blood sugar?”

  “I don’t need you to keep reminding me,” he barked.

  “You’ve been doing the same thing to me! How do you think I feel?”

  He walked over to the entry table where his insulin pen was. He grabbed it and swiftly jabbed himself in the side without pinching his flesh. “There, happy now?”

  “You shouldn’t do that without metering.”

  “I’m fine! I’ve been living with this most of my life. What happened to you is different. It was a trauma; you were attacked.”

  “I know what it was.”

  “Then why can’t you understand why I’m worried?”

  “Is this our first fight?”

  He paused in front of the door and took a deep breath. In a low voice he said, “Please, Kate. Please wait until I get back to take a shower.”

  “Only if you’ll join me.”

  A tiny smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Only if I can shave your legs.”

  “Fine.” I rolled my eyes.

  That night I let Jamie shave my legs in the shower. It was intensely erotic, or at least he made it seem that way. Damn tease. He still wouldn’t go any further than kissing me in bed. He showed great restraint; I’ll give him that, but the caretaker act was getting old.

  At my follow-up appointment, Dr. Coco gave me permission to resume normal activities. I made him write it down so that I could wave it in Jamie’s face every time he tried to do something for me or every time he tried to prevent me from doing something normal. Every day since I was home, Jamie asked me if I wanted to try and ride the subway. The answer was always no.

  We spent one Saturday cuddled up on a bench, sipping hot cocoa at Millennium Park.

  “Christmas is in four days. Can you believe it?”

  “No, it’s so soon. Are you going to go back to Napa for the holidays?”

  His jaw clenched. “Why would I do that?”

  “Well, I don’t know, you have Susan and Guillermo there.”

  “They have families of their own.”

  “Don’t you have things to take care of at the winery? And what about your organization in Africa?”

  “The winery and organization run themselves. I do a lot when I’m there, but it runs smoothly when I’m not. My first priority is you. So what are we doing for Christmas? Should we get a tree and decorate?”

  “That would be fun. I haven’t done that since I lived with Rose.”

  He squeezed my hand. “What do you want for Christmas?”

  “I want you. I want to make love. I don’t want you thinking about my head injury while we’re kissing. Do you think you can manage that?”

  Smiling, he reached over and fluffed the back of my hair. “I’ll see what I can do, even though you still have this silly hair to remind me.”

  I punched him in the arm. “Jerk.”

  The next day, Jamie let me go shopping with Beth. He made me go through a checklist before I left, asking me a hundred questions to make sure I was up for a long day away from home.

  “You’re not gonna spy on me while I’m shopping, are you?”

  “I might. If you feel the slightest bit dizzy or nauseous, call me.” Jamie had started to use a cell phone again, but he never texted on it. I knew why. “What’s the plan for tonight when you get home?”

  “I want to write a little, but my computer has a glitch. It keeps crashing, and I’m worried I’ll lose work. I have another older laptop in the closet. I might try and get that one working.”

  “Okay, and what about dinner? Do you want to stay in or go out?”

  “Let’s stay in.” I walked up to him and slipped my hand down the front of his sweats. I grabbed him and squeezed. He gasped. “Maybe we can go past first base?”

  “I think I can arrange that,” he said.

  The doorbell rang. Jamie quickly darted off to my bedroom. I swung the door open to a smiling Beth.

  “Let’s shop till we drop.”

  “You’re being sarcastic?”

  “Yeah, I hate shopping. Jamie practically begged on his knees for me to go with you.”

  “You mean he asked you?” She shook her head up and down dramatically. “Jamie, you’re in trouble!” I shouted.

  “Have fun, ladies!” he yelled back. I grabbed my new purse off the table.

  “I need to go by the bank first; I haven’t gotten my cards back. Do you mind?”

  Before Beth could answer, Jamie shouted again from the other room, “I put a credit card in your purse.”

  “Hold on one sec,” I said to Beth.

  I stalked off to my bathroom and found Jamie standing completely naked in front of my sink, brushing his teeth.

  I marched up to him. “You!” He spit toothpaste into the sink
and turned toward me, exposing himself. He grinned arrogantly.

  “Yes, dear, what is it? Have I upset you?”

  “I have my own money . . . and you have toothpaste on your lip.”

  He grabbed both my wrists, held my arms down, and bent so that we were face-to-face. “Can you get it for me?” I squirmed and tried to break my arms away, but he held them firmly.

  I leaned in and sucked all the toothpaste off his lip, then I bit him. He pulled away and released my hands. “Ouch, feisty little thing.”

  “That’s what you get. Hey, seriously though, I don’t want to buy gifts for you with your money.”

  “It’s our money. You’re gonna marry me, right?” He smirked.

  “Jamie, I said I thought we needed some time to get to know each other.”

  “Okay, let’s get to know each other tonight.” He pressed his body to mine. I felt him hard against me. I got lost in his kiss and then I heard Beth whistling “(Sittin’ on) The Dock of the Bay” in the other room.

  “I have to go.”

  “I’ll miss you, beautiful,” he said near my ear, his voice so smooth and masculine it sent shivers down my spine.

  I spent the whole day shopping with Beth. After hours of debate, I finally decided to buy myself lingerie to wear for Jamie. I figured it was the best I could do for a billionaire who had everything he wanted. I got back to the apartment in the afternoon and went straight into my bedroom for a nap. Jamie made sure to strip me down and tuck me in first.

  I woke about an hour later, threw on one of his T-shirts, and headed for the kitchen for a glass of water. He was sitting at my square table, shirtless, but he had his black baseball cap on backward. There were computer parts and tools all over the table and floor. He was typing frantically on my laptop. There was something childlike about the way he sat poised and eager as he typed. Jamie was in such a deep concentration that he didn’t even notice that I had walked into the room. For a few seconds I stood there and took in a sight I never thought I’d see: Jamie sitting at a computer. He avoided technology as much as possible, and although I knew he had it in him, I didn’t know if I would ever witness it, and truthfully I couldn’t picture it. He was a far cry from the pale, skinny computer geek he once was. Sitting on the very front edge of the chair, he had his legs spread wide and he was tapping his right bare heel on the ground. The backward baseball hat seemed like a teenage boy’s thinking cap. I looked around and noticed in the corner of the living room a small Christmas tree with one string of blinking colorful lights—nothing extravagant, just a little festive touch. I thought of Jamie putting the tree up by himself. He was a lot like me, used to doing things on his own.