After All

Chapter 3: Hands Off, Sir

I finish my shower and dress in jeans and a comfy slouchy sweater since I have a long flight ahead of me. I don't take time with my hair other than to twist it in a sloppy bun on top of my head, secured by chopsticks. Della is in the next room confirming the car service and arranging for a private VIP arrival at the airport. I am definitely not in the mood for any paps.

The rest of last night went on without incident and our showing today was very well attended and the movie was well received. I arranged with Della to leave tonight, a day earlier than planned because I simply have to get away from the possibility of bumping into Jamie again. I just don't trust my reactions. I could blow up in his face or I could crumble into tears and neither are appropriate. It shook me more than I expected to come face to face with him. Those eyes, those dimples, that voice, that fresh out of bed hair...they all still make me weak in the knees and stir up too many unwelcome memories. Not good. Not good at all.

He has been a fruitless dream from the beginning, and is now clearly a done deal and needs to remain firmly in my past. The best way for that to happen is for me to distance myself from him, have no more contact with him, and do my best to ignore any and all media about him. Della will help me with that, but a big part of it is up to me. I need to stop the online stalking and simply turn a blind eye and deaf ear to any reports that come my way.

As I tucked the last of my belongings into my suitcase, I called Chris back. He answered on the second ring, "Hey sweets! Having a good time?"

I groan a little, "Well, it went fine, but I've decided to leave early."

There was a long pause, "Run into Jamie?"

"Yes, but that's not why I'm leaving," I lied to myself. "I'm just feeling more stressed than I realized, so I'm going to go off the grid for a week or two. Daddy offered me his house in St. Thomas, so I'm heading there."

He heaved a deep sigh, "Dakota, you're running. Either from him or from me, but you're running. That's not healthy, sweets."

I snort, "Oh please, don't try to counsel me with Gwyneth's words. I'm not running away from anything; I'm running to some sanity and clarity. I have to figure things out for myself and I need to do that alone, and in an environment that is free from distraction."

He wisely holds his tongue for a moment, "I understand. Will you be joining us in Ibiza for the whole family blended beach vacation?"

I roll my eyes, but cave, "Probably. I told the kids I would be there, so I don't want to back out on that."

"Thanks. They would definitely miss you. So would I." I can practically see him running his hand through his hair. "Take your time, love. Do what you need to do. We'll all be here for you if you need us. And if you want me to come, just call and I'll have a jet ready to go in an hour. You know that."

He really is such a nice guy and I plop down on the end of the bed. "I know that and I thank you for it." I twist my shoelace around my fingers as I murmur, "We've been through a lot, you and I. We've helped each other through a lot. I want you to know I appreciate that and I'll never forget all you've done for me."

"Back at you. Please let me know when you're safe in the islands."

"I will. Bye." I look forlornly at the phone in my hand when I end the call. Why can't I love this guy? He is wonderful. I tried to love him. And I know he tried to love me. We're just not 'there', but we totally have each other's backs. People wouldn't understand this relationship if we tried to explain it, so we don't. He and I both know where we stand, and that's all that matters. Although, I will say Gwyneth seems to get it as do the kids – very intuitive bunch, I guess.

I roll my bag out of the bedroom and grab my purse to make sure I have my passport readily available. "Dell, you ready?"

"Yep. You want me to go down first and make sure the lobby is clear?"

I distractedly put my purse over my shoulder and wrestle my bags. "I doubt that is necessary. Nobody knows I'm leaving and most everyone is still at the festivities."

She doesn't respond immediately, so I look into her direct gaze. "Jamie is there. Concierge stopped him – called me for clearance, and I said no. He said he would wait. So apparently he is sitting there staring at the bank of elevators."

That stopped me in my tracks. "Why the hell is HE here? Isn't he done torturing me yet? Christ on a cracker – just go home and make another baby already!"

I feel the steam start to rise and I grab my crap tighter, "Let's go, Della. We have plans and we are going to keep them. He does not factor in. I'm not changing anything for that shit. Is Ted ready?" Ted was my long-term body guard and he would come in quite handy this evening.

"He's right outside the door."

I opened the door and Ted immediately stepped up to take my bags. "Ready Cupcake?"

I smiled brightly at him. "Don't leave my side, keep Jamie Dornan a solid two feet away from me, don't let him touch me, and move me away within 60 seconds of chit chat. Got it?"

He smiled and decided to pass off my bags to a waiting bellhop, leaving his hands free. He took up his protective stance, in front of me but close and able to put an arm back and push me behind him. Even walking to the elevator, he does that thing where he keeps one arm out slightly so nobody could get past him to me if they tried. I sigh in relief. He's my human shield and I am more grateful than ever for him tonight. I do not think anyone is out to do me bodily harm, but I also don't want any more attacks on my heart or my sanity. I need this sense of security, being inside bubble wrap, nothing can get to me.

Della takes one elevator down by herself. She will intercept Jamie and try to move him along, or at least diffuse what could be a difficult situation.

Once in our elevator, Ted turns his head, "Stay close, Cupcake. Hold onto my jacket and let me handle the rest."

I step up to him and take hold of the vent in the back of his jacket. I immediately feel calmer and more secure. I take a deep breath as the doors open. I can't see around Ted's shoulder, but I can hear Della, "Jamie, now is not the time. She has a flight to catch."

"Five minutes, please, just give me five minutes to talk to her in private."

"I'm sorry, son, that just isn't going to happen."

He snorts and says more to himself than to her, "God, you're as bad as Jerrie."

She laughs, "I take that as a compliment, sir. Now I suggest you back off so as not to alarm her security."

At that point we are within a few feet. He turns and sees Ted and me behind him. He reaches out a hand to Ted and smiles, "Hey Ted. Good to see you again, man."

Ted doesn't take his hand, but nods politely to him. "Mr. Dornan. Sir, please clear the path."

Jamie looks taken aback. His head swings from Della to Ted and then steps to the side so he can meet my eyes. "Seriously? Is this necessary? You know I'd never hurt you."

I grip Ted's coat even tighter as I ask, "Why are you here, Jamie?"

He lifts his hands. "I want to talk to you. Privately. Without coworkers and a hundred members of the international press in attendance. We need to talk. Five minutes, Dakota, that's all I asking for. Please."

"We have nothing to talk about, nothing left to say, and I have a flight to catch. Please excuse me." I nudge Ted and he moves forward.

Jamie has no choice but to step aside, but he reaches out a hand for my arm and Ted grips him in an instant. "SIR! Please let her go. Don't make me hurt you."

Jamie drops his hand immediately and puts them both up. "Sorry. Sorry." He shakes his head and puts both hands in his pockets. He makes no move to follow us out of the hotel. As Ted shuffles me into the back of the car behind Della, I see Jamie on the sidewalk at the door. He gives me a small smile, blows me a kiss and touches his fingers with the kiss to his heart. I don't return the gesture. I lean back, close my eyes, and heave a sigh of relief. I just need to be away, far away, from him. Once and for all, I need to get him out of my head and my heart. No more kidding myself, no more making excuses for him, no more wondering about 'what ifs', no more – no more, just, please God, no more. It ends tonight.