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."For me?""Your name's on the card,” she replied.Despite her obvious curiosity, she said nothing more and walked back out.He had no doubt that the identity of the sender of the roses would be the hot topic of office gossip for the remainder of the day."Thanks, Serena,” he called after her.Then, waiting until the door was closed, he pulled the small card from the envelope with his name.A guy really can't have too many friends.I hope I can count you as one of mine.—SamJason sighed and ran a hand through his hair.He'd call Sam later and ask him if he'd like to have dinner next week.The guy had been nothing but a mensch about it all—a really good guy—and he knew the entire sordid tale.He still felt like a jerk after what had happened; he hoped that he could make up for the night before.With a sad smile, he took the card and stuck it in his desk drawer.No need to give Scotty more ammunition, he thought with a quick snort, I'll get enough flak over the roses!* * * *It was nearly one o'clock when his office phone rang—his direct dial number.He'd been slowly working his way through an indulgent Philly cheesesteak which he knew he'd regret later when he saw the caller ID.“Hey, Rosie,” he said as he picked up the receiver."Jaz,” came his sister's voice.“How're you doing? It's been weeks since you've called.I was worried.""I'm great,” he lied."Like hell you are,” she retorted.“You sound horrible.Did you hear from Jules?""Yes,” he answered, willing his voice not to break.He heard the sharp intake of her breath, and was glad that he didn't have to repeat the entire depressing saga from the beginning—once in twenty-four hours was definitely his limit.He kept it simple: “He said it was over.That it's time I moved on.""I'm sorry.""Thanks.I appreciate it.” A deep breath, then, “So what's up? You usually don't call me from Milan during the week.Is everything all right with you and Stefano?""Stefano's great,” she answered.“But I'm not in Europe.I had some business in New York, and I thought I'd try to catch up with you over the weekend.""I'd love to see you,” he said, brightening somewhat.He needed to see her.Rosie would work her magic on him, drag him out of his funk.Lord knows he was coming up short in the magic department right about now."I'm staying at the Plaza,” she told him.“You up for some jazz this Friday night?""Sure,” he answered.“I can hop a train and meet you.D'you have somewhere in mind?""McCoy Tyner's playing at the Blue Note,” she said.“I took the liberty of snagging us a few tickets before it sells out.Ten thirty show all right?""Sounds great,” Jason replied, his tone a bit less enthusiastic as her mention of the club reminded him of Jules.“I can make it down there by ten or so.""That'll work,” she replied.“If you want, we can grab a drink after the show.My appointment with the buyer from Neiman Marcus isn't until Saturday afternoon, so I can sleep in.""Neiman? That's great, Rosie!""Yeah,” she answered.“I've been thinking of expanding our line, maybe looking at manufacturing a pret-a-porter collection for the States.They seem really interested.""I knew you'd get your foot in the door if you tried.""Thanks,” she said.“I'll tell you all about it when I see you.Ten o'clock Friday night, then?""You got it,” he replied.“Love you, Rosie.""Back at you, bro,” she said.She kissed the telephone, and he laughed in spite of himself."Thanks,” he said."For what?""For being you,” he told her.“I really needed to hear your voice.""I can't wait to see you, Jaz,” she answered.“Take care of yourself, and I'll see you in a few days.""Later, Rosie."He set the receiver down and sighed.The Blue Note.He had planned to show Jules the place sometime.Things change.Life moves on.Just be glad you had the time together, and let it go.* * * *The rest of the week flew by in a flurry of depositions and frantic calls from clients.Drinks with Scott and Allison went a long way toward helping him feel human again; that, and his surprising conversation with Sam, when he called to invite him out to dinner the next week.Jason had already come to think of the other man as a friend.Maybe later—much later, he now realized—there might be more.By the time he arrived at Penn Station on Friday it was seven thirty, and he was more than happy to have left Philadelphia and his work behind.It was a warm, early summer evening.The smell of the city this time of year was actually a pleasant, familiar one—metallic, but with a hint of the sweet scent of late flowering trees and flowers.Jason decided to walk down to the Blue Note from Penn Station, having arrived with more than enough time to meet Rosalie.The walk did him a world of good, and he made a slight detour to stop in Washington Square Park and just sit for a while.It was really nothing like Paris, he thought wistfully, although it held its own charm.Even though it was dark, the park was alive with people.He watched old men playing chess next to young kids skateboarding over the concrete.Surprisingly, the couples who strolled by hand in hand didn't elicit the same pain as they might have weeks before; it felt more like an ache now, a longing.Dull, although ever-present.Manageable.Here and there, students sat cross-legged on the grass, laptops glowing like giant fireflies in darkened corners of the park.He closed his eyes for a few minutes and pictured himself back in the Jardins du Luxembourg.The sounds were similar, but his imagination would not cooperate
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