They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment or two, when Jason turned back to her. “So you like being here, then?” He peered at Taylor through the dark lenses of his sunglasses.

His question caught her off guard. “At this house?”

It was probably just the sun, but she could have sworn she saw Jason’s cheeks blush.

“I meant California,” he said quickly. “You know here,” he waved his hand, referring to their general locale. “Los Angeles.”

Taylor smiled. It was eighty degrees and not a cloud in the sky. “What’s not to like?”

Jason turned back to his paper. “Right, right.” He nodded. A moment passed, then he glanced at Taylor once again.

“So you would consider this then, as a place you could live? You wouldn’t miss Chicago?”

Taylor found his question a bit . . . strange. She could’ve sworn she heard a catch in his voice, as if their conversation had somehow turned into something more than idle chitchat. Too bad those damn sunglasses made it impossible for her to read his expression.

Then she shrugged these thoughts off. She was being too suspicious, she told herself. Too much of a lawyer. This wasn’t a deposition; not every question had a secret purpose or trick behind it. Jason was just being polite. After all, she had been living in Los Angeles for a couple of months by now; it was a natural question for him to ask.

“I suppose I’d consider it, if there was some great opportunity for me in L.A.,” she said. “But I guess I’ve always assumed that Chicago is where I’d live.”

With that said, Taylor put her sunglasses back on top of her head, not wanting to get raccoon marks from the sun. She closed her eyes and eased back in her chair. “Luckily, I don’t need to worry about that for a long time,” she told Jason. “With this trial, it’ll be a couple more months before I have to start thinking about leaving here.”

Enough about Chicago already, she thought, basking in the warm California sun. That world was thousands of miles away for now.

But strangely, when she opened her eyes a few minutes later to take another sip of her lemonade, she noticed that Jason was staring off distractedly once again.

Twenty-seven

AT FIVE O’CLOCK Taylor’s twenty-four hours were up. Her stay in paradise came to a reluctant end.

Jason pulled the Aston Martin up the driveway of her apartment building and shut off the engine. The two of them sat for a moment in his car.

“Back to reality.” Taylor sighed. “Good old apartment living.”

“You know, you could just ask the next time you want to sleep over. You don’t need to crash your car.”

Taylor laughed, relieved to see him joking again. He’d been so quiet all day, she had begun to worry that something was really wrong.

“I’ll remember that,” she told him. She was about to thank him for letting her stay over when it happened again—a shrill ring blared out from her purse. Cellphonus interruptus.

Despite the inconvenience of the moment, Taylor felt obligated to check and make sure it wasn’t Derek with some trial-related crisis. She felt Jason watching her as she pulled the phone out and checked the caller ID. When she saw it was Scott who was calling, she said nothing and tucked the phone back into her purse.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Jason asked.

“I’ll let it go into voice mail.”

But her phone was relentless. It began ringing again, immediately. Taylor smiled, thinking back to another person who had not so long ago similarly persisted in trying to reach her.

“I gotta say, you movie stars sure are tenacious,” she said teasingly over the phone’s ring.

Jason’s face hardened. “I’m nothing like him.”

She had meant the comment as a joke, but she saw that she’d insulted him instead. You’re right, she suddenly felt the urge to say. You are so much more than him.

As her cell phone continued to ring, Jason turned away and stared straight ahead with a stony expression, his eyes fixed on the windshield of the car.

Say it, Taylor heard the voice in her head urging her. At least tell him that. After everything he’s done for you, he deserves to hear it.

But she couldn’t.

Because she knew that those words would lead to more words, and there were things going on between her and Jason that she wasn’t ready to face. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours; she needed time to pull her thoughts together.

So she hesitated. Seeing this, Jason set his jaw angrily and threw the car into drive.

“You should take your call, Taylor,” he said, refusing to look at her.

Nodding, she grabbed her bag and stepped out of the car. She had barely shut the door when Jason threw the car into gear and took off. She stood in the driveway, watching as the Aston Martin sped around the corner of her street. It took her a moment to realize her cell phone was still ringing.

Shit—Scott. She had forgotten about him. Yes, again.

She answered her phone, having a pretty good idea what his first word would be.

“Gorgeous!” he exclaimed enthusiastically as Taylor mouthed along. She instantly felt horrible for doing that. After all, lots of women would be thrilled to have Scott Casey calling them.

“Hey, Scott,” she said, trying to sound normal despite how flustered she was by Jason’s angry departure. She headed up the walkway to her front door and let herself into her apartment.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, gorgeous,” Scott said.