Page 50 of A Gingerbread Romance

“No.” Jonathan huffed again.

“Then what is it? I don’t get it.”

“Fine,” he said. He’d have to spell it out for him. “All I can imagine is a year from now, when Greta and I have been going out a while, and I come out there to see her and find her with Berg. And then—”

“—And then it’s Carla and Don all over again.” Wade finished the sentence for him.

Jonathan inhaled deeply. “Exactly.” He’d reached his building. He punched in his security code and opened the door, then went inside the lobby, heading for the elevator. It was completely empty, locked up, and dark except for a few low lights, the way it always was on the weekends.

Wade was quiet again. “That’s still bothering you?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, it is. It’s always going to bother me.” Wade had no idea what it was like to see the woman he loved in the arms of another man. Right before their wedding, too. Jonathan dropped his head, shutting his eyes to block the image from his mind.

“You need to get some closure and stop living in the past, Jon. You need to talk to Carla.”

“What?” The idea was ludicrous. “No.”

“But—”

“—But no,” said Jonathan harshly. “I just saw her last week. She’s still the train wreck she always was. I don’t know how I ever…” He stopped himself. How had he ever loved her? She’d been so wrong for him. Still, he had loved her once.

“You saw her? Where?” asked Wade, his tone seeping with curiosity.

“In New Haven, of all places. She and Don were skiing for the weekend. They came to town for dinner. Greta and I were out walking.” Jonathan reached his agency’s front door on the seventh floor, used his key card, and went inside, switching on a couple of lights as he headed for his corner office with its unrestricted view of this part of the city.

“So, Greta met Carla?” Wade said.

“Yeah,” said Jonathan.

Wade was quiet.

What was the big deal? “So?”

“So, seeing them together probably set something off in that numb skull of yours. You started comparing the circumstances behind the Carla mess to Greta, and—”

“—Okay, okay. Enough, Dr. Freud. I’m fine. I just decided that I’m not going through that same thing again—with anyone—and that Greta and I would be primed for it because of our geographical locations, so—”

“—Will you listen to yourself, Jonathan?” Wade admonished. “Greta is nothing like Carla, and I can’t believe that she would ever do something like that to you.”

The image of her hugging Berg flashed across his mind. He rubbed his temple and sat down behind the desk in his black leather high-backed swivel chair. “Yeah, but—”

“—Jonathan, you’re never going to find someone if you don’t let go of what happened in the past. And that means you’re gonna be alone for the rest of your life, buddy, and I don’t want to see you alone. You and Greta are perfect for each other. You’ve got to let this go. Move on. Give her a chance to prove you wrong.” Wade finished his speech and then sighed heavily through the receiver.

Jonathan stared at the blank screen on his desktop computer. “Look, I appreciate your concern, Wade, but I’ll be fine.” As long as he kept telling himself that. But he did owe Greta some sort of explanation.

“Can’t say I believe you, but okay, I tried,” said Wade. “Call me back if you want to talk.”

“Okay, I will.” He did appreciate his brothers, from their brutal honesty to their attempts to whip him into shape, but he was fine. Really. Or he’d be fine, eventually. He’d been through worse.

He hung up the phone and pressed the button to start up his computer, then pulled up Greta’s number. He pressed the call button, hoping she wouldn’t answer. She was probably busy at work, though. Sunday mornings were her busiest day. He took a deep breath as the call clicked over to voicemail.

“Hey, Greta,” he said, trying not to be too emotional about it, “I want to apologize for not calling you back this weekend. I, uh, I came back to Baltimore to take care of a few things on Saturday,” he said, regretting the choice of words. There were nothingshe had to take care of here. He’d just needed breathing space. “So, I thought I’d leave you a message. Sorry I didn’t do it sooner.” This sounded so lame already. “Anyway, I, uh, I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I’ve just got too much to work out on my end. I’m not ready…todothis. Us.” He paused again, feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. “I’m not ready forus.” He ended the call, cursing himself for the extremely disjointed way he’d said it.

But at least it was done, and now he could find some work to distract himself. He pulled his chair closer to the desk and began tapping at his keyboard.

SIXTEEN

Greta glanced at the clock, which said it was one fifteen p.m. already. The floor was still hopping with customers, but she was starving. She’d be falling over soon if she didn’t eat something. The other girls out front had already taken their breaks. She could certainly steal away for ten minutes.

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