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“Who?”
“Don’t play games with me, Daniel. I need to know.”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“No. He just came upstairs with a huge change in attitude.” It eats me up to admit that to Daniel, of all people, and I kind of wish I would’ve woken up Eaton and demanded he tell me instead, but it’s too late for that now.
Daniel’s tone changes dramatically. Suddenly, he’s chipper. “I called to ask to reschedule our meeting, but when he answered, I decided I’d better warn him to treat you right. I told him you’re not the fooling around type, so unless he has plans to marry you and settle down, he’d better back off, or I’d find a way to make him hurt.”
“You did?” That doesn’t sound like him at all, but maybe our new business relationship has given him time to realize we’re better off as friends.
“Yes, Jenny. We might not be together, but I still care about you, and this whole thing is moving so fast. I worry he’s taking advantage of you.”
My mind races with why this would upset Eaton. He doesn’t seem like the type of guy to be jealous over an ex’s threat. Especially considering Eaton could crush Daniel in his fist.
“What did he say?”
“He said if that’s true, maybe he should take a minute to think things through.”
It’s all the confirmation I needed that I’m doing the right thing by leaving. I kept telling Eaton to be sure, and he kept telling me he was, but apparently, when another man says it, it sinks in. My nose stings and my throat plugs up, but I push it down. It’s good I found out now, instead of months from now when I’m head over heels in love. Hopefully as of right now, my heart hasn’t opened up enough that this rejection will leave a scar. I should be grateful.
“Jenny?”
I startle at Daniel’s voice still in my ear. I completely forgot I was on the phone. “Okay. Thanks for telling me.”
“Are you going to be all right? Do you want to come over and talk?”
“No, I’m okay. It’s late. But we do need to meet. What time works best for you?”
“How about Tuesday at ten? We can meet at that coffee shop you like, the one next to the bookstore?”
“Sounds good.”
“Good night, Jenny.”
The call ends, and I scoop my purse up before walking out the door and out of Eaton Beaver’s life.
