Page 45 of High Heels & Heifers

“I’m sorry, Luca,” she says, but I’m not sure what she’s apologizing for.

“It’s fine. It’s fine,” I say, but in truth, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel fine again.

Jack

The truck starts up witha roar and in the next second a female voice wails over the radio, “Cowboy Take Me Away.” In a single move, Luca drops the truck into drive and presses off button on the car stereo.

Guilt gathers in my gut as I lean an elbow on the door next to the window and prop my chin up to stare outside. In the distance, I see the stable. Wyatt is outside with his mostly white stallion. Jasper is outside too, standing off to the side, swishing his tail and munching on hay. A lump forms in my throat, and I think about asking Luca to turn right toward the barn. When I look over, though, he’s scowling, so I decide not to press my luck.

I turn back to the window and mouth, “bye Jasper,” and then wipe away a tear that leaks from the corner of my eye.

Further in the distance, Luca’s future home grabs my attention. Another possibility I’m saying goodbye to before I even open the door. But I did open the door, and that’s the problem. I can hear my mother now.Jacqueline, why don’t you think these things through?

It’s okay, though. I’ve built my life in San Francisco, and this is just a blip on my radar. Transient. Everyone has passing interests. Mari certainly does, although right now, I wonder how she manages to stay so disconnected.

I hug my bag to my chest for the whole ride, as if it’s a life jacket on a sinking ship called theSS Jack. There’s no conversation, no laughing, no singing, and no cuddling like there was on the ride back to the ranch house from the trading post. The cab of the truck simply feels empty today. The rumbling diesel engine and the groaning the wheels make as we hit a few bumps along the way are the only sounds to punctuate the painfully silent ride.

Probably a mile after we turn onto the pavement toward Albuquerque, my phone starts buzzing. Messages from coworkers, surely. I ignore it, not wanting to face work until well away from Luca. For some reason, that would feel like pouring salt into a gaping wound.

Luca drives and I sulk.

And the hour seems to last a lifetime.

Luca

The sign at the dropoff area reminds me that no parking is allowed, and that this area is strictly meant for quick drop offs only. As if I needed the reminder that I’m dropping Jack off and may never see her again. I turn the engine off but don’t remove my hands from the steering wheel, nor do I look over when she opens the door to the truck and gets out.

I suck in all the air I can, before I get out, and grab her bag from the back. She stands in front of me, and I hold her bag hostage. If I don’t hand it over, she can’t go back to California. My logic is awful, but who says love and logic belong in the same sentence?

Jack surprises me when she pulls me toward her. Her delicate hand caresses the base of my neck and she stands on her tiptoes and draws me down until our lips meet. It’s less of a kiss, and more breathing the same air as the other person, as if it’s necessary for us both to survive.

She releases me, but then wraps her arms around my waist and buries her head in my chest. “I’ll never forget this week, Luca. For as long as I live.”

I kiss the top of her head. All the words I want to say are clogged in my throat.

“I won’t either,” I say instead of what I feel. A tear escapes my eye, and I wipe it away before Jack can see.

Jack pulls away from me one last time, and I hand her bag over, fighting a smile over how gaudy the thing is and the memory of it splayed out on my bed. We never discussed keeping in touch. We haven’t even exchanged numbers. What’s the point? I don’t want a text from her telling me that she’s arrived safely. It will only make me miss her more.

“Take care of Jasper for me,” Jack says. “And maybe bring me up from time to time. So he doesn’t forget me.”

I chuckle through the heartbreak. Because sitting around and talking about Jack when she’s so far away seems inevitably painful.

“Alright, City Slicker,” I say, trying to keep things light between us because, if I don’t, I’m going to fall apart. That much can wait until the ride home. I playfully punch her shoulder. “You have a flight to catch.”

“Bye, Luca.” Jack turns and walks through the airport doors. She never looks back.

Chapter Fourteen

A week later

Jack

My Nespresso machine broke thismorning, so I’m a bit cranky as I stroll up to the double glass doors with the LivFit logo etched across them. One of my peers, Anthony, arrives at the same moment as me and reaches for the door handle with a huge smile. He’s so proud of himself for helping a little lady through the door, and I have to remind myself of what the workplace harassment training video I watched earlier this week told me. Opening the door for someone is a common courtesy, not a sexist slight.

I know this, and if I had enough caffeine pumping through my veins, I might have been a little happier to step through before him. Instead, I unclench my jaw and put on a smile. “Thanks, Anthony. Haven’t seen you since we got back. How’s R&D program going for the implantables?”

Anthony has a background in the medical device field, so he was brought on to lead what would hopefully break LivFit into that market. From my understanding though, devices that are going into someone’s body require a whole lot more rigor to meet government standards. My jaw hit the floor when I first saw that his project plan would run for seven years in order to gain all the regulatory approvals.

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