It was his turn to snort. “I don’t hear a question.”
“Why do you need a pretend girlfriend?”
He was the one to break eye contact this time, turning to look out the windows at the lake. “I spend my whole day at work selling people on the idea that I’m the solution to all their problems. When I get home, I don’t want to have to be that guy. I just want to be me. And I guess I haven’t met a woman who’s okay with me as is. I’m a simple guy with simple needs.”
“I get that,” she said, and nodded. “And same.”
Easy acceptance. A surprise because no one had ever understood this about him. He shook his head.
“What?”
“I’m just sitting here thinking you’re one of the most fascinating, amazing women I’ve ever met. I guess I’m just stunned that you’re . . . available.”
Her lips quirked. “Are you asking me why I’m single?”
“If you’re willing to answer, then yes,” he said. “Why are you single?”
“You mean other than most men suck?”
He smiled. “It’s true, but I suspect you’ve always known that. So . . . ?”
“So . . .” She lifted a shoulder. “I spend nine months of the year in other parts of the world dealing with real people with real problems, and at the end of the day, it makes dating seem . . .” She searched for a word. “Frivolous, I guess.”
This made sense, but it gave him a pang deep in his chest for her. She reached for the iPad, but he gently pushed it away. “I want to get to know the real you, Jane, not how you would answer an impersonal website survey.”
She leaned back, picked up one of the shots of beer, took a sip, put it down. Straightened her silverware.
“You’re nervous,” he realized.
“Am not.”
He put his hand over hers. “I was nervous tonight too. Until I saw you.”
She gave a small smile. “It’s actually the opposite for me. I wasn’t nervous until I saw you. Good thing this is only pretend, right?”
He gave her fingers a squeeze. “We’ll start easy, okay? Tell me something about your day.”
“About my day? I don’t know . . . it was pretty ordinary.” She thought about it. “I did meet someone new at lunch. I usually try to eat alone because it’s nice to get a minute of downtime between the rush of patients. But today this woman asked if she could sit with me. At first I was irritated.”
“Not you . . .”
She snorted. “But she was really nice. We actually exchanged numbers. She loves martinis, which I’ve never had, so we’re going to go for martinis soon. She’s a single mom, getting a divorce, loves skiing . . . Tess something or another.”
Levi froze. No. No, it couldn’t possibly be . . . “Tess,” he repeated, trying to hide his sheer disbelief.
“Yeah. Her daughter’s school and after-school program is across the street from the hospital. She was very chatty. Her daughter thinks she’s a fairy princess. Oh, and she has a totally annoying brother.”
“Really,” he said dryly. “That must suck for her.” He really should’ve seen this coming, but his sister, and undoubtedly his mom as well, had clearly been cyberstalking Jane. He shouldn’t be so stunned at the level of duplicity and lengths they’d gone to in order to butt their noses into his business, but he was.
And they wondered why he’d chosen to live in San Francisco.
“Yeah, I guess he’s home for a bit,” Jane said, “and he acts like he’s still a teenager, leaving his clothes everywhere and dirty dishes in the sink. I never had any siblings, so it must be really hard to have to deal with that.”
Oh, goody. They were still talking about him. “Must be,” he managed.
Her smile faded a bit. “How big is your family again?”
“There’s five of us,” he said. “Though sometimes it seems like triple that.”
She didn’t smile, his first clue something was wrong.
“And they’re . . . nice?” she asked.
She was anxious about meeting them. “They’re going to be really nice to you, and very busy trying to figure out why you’re with me.”
She did give him a small smile at that, and he paused before bringing up her family again. “You’ve not said much about growing up, other than you were passed around a lot. You’re not close to your family, I take it.”
“No.” She pushed around the empty glass. “My mom was a teenager when she got pregnant and my dad didn’t stick around, so it’s an understatement to say she wasn’t ready to take care of a baby. It was tough for her to keep up with school and have a life, so we bounced around for a while, stayed with friends or family friends.”
“Not family?”
“Not then,” she said. “She’d burned some bridges.”
“And you? What happened to you?”
“I don’t remember much of this, but apparently when I was two, my mom got an opportunity to go away to college. I was sent to my mom’s older sister, Aunt Viv. But she had five kids of her own and worked all the time, so I ended up at my grandma’s sister’s daughter’s. I stayed there a bit, until she got married and wanted to start a family of her own.”
“What was wrong with keeping you too?”
“I was a needy thing.” She shrugged. “Got sick a lot.”
Levi shook his head. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.”
“I was fine, I don’t really even remember much of it,” she said quickly, as if she didn’t want him to feel angry on her behalf, or worse, sorry for her. “And anyway, that’s when my grandparents took me in. And that was . . .” She smiled a little, as some of the fond memories appeared to beat back her bad ones. “The best. They lived here in Sunrise Cove in a tiny cabin. I loved everything about that time.”
“Here?” he asked, surprised. “They’re here in Tahoe?”
“Just my grandpa now. My grandma . . .” She paused, her liquid jade eyes revealing pain. “She died when I was eight.”
“Aw, Jane. I’m so sorry. Did you get to stay with your grandpa?”
“Her death was . . . hard on him. They’d been together since they were kids. They had an amazing relationship. He’d hide things for her to find. Food, cheap little knickknacks, seriously expensive jewelry, it didn’t matter. It was a game between them. He’d give her hints and she’d run around looking. She was just as happy to get a box of cookies as a diamond bracelet. He’d just sit there and laugh the entire time she was hunting for whatever it was.”
“They sound amazing.”
She nodded. “My time with them holds my favorite childhood memories.”
“What happened after your grandma died?” he asked softly.
“My grandpa had problems. Grief, and some health issues. My aunt Viv took me back in so I wouldn’t bother him or put any burden on him.”
“Damn. You couldn’t catch a break.”
“Maybe if I’d been an easier kid—”
“Jane, you were just a kid. Someone should have given you the choice and made you feel wanted. Someone should have asked you to stay.”