Deep Blue (21 page)

“It’s going above my bed, but you can visit it whenever you want.” His hands shift and squeeze my ass at the same time his mouth takes mine.

Thirty minutes later, we arrive for our reservation at Tao. I think I’ve met my match in the bedroom department. We didn’t actually go there, though Jaeger was ready and willing. After several deep kisses and much teasing about who would get the carving—I won, of course—I put the brakes on the heated make-out session. Not cool to walk into a fancy restaurant with smeared mascara and bed head. Not when we can continue what we started later.

I’m looking forward to my new art. That puppy is going up right next to the orange and yellow needlepoint of a sunflower in the chalet—Gen’s and my new name for the heap we live in. Natural-modern meets horrifically outdated fusion.

“Table for two,” Jaeger tells the maître d’.

“Right this way, Mr. Lang. Good to see you this evening.” The host, in a dark suit, grins.

Does Jaeger come here often? Before I can ask, Jaeger raises his hand for me to follow the maître d’. The man holds two leather menus and is rapidly walking away.

The maître d’ escorts us past elegant, white cloth–covered tables. Mirrors behind a full-length bar make the room appear twice as wide and capture windows that look out onto the lake at the far end. Geometric wooden chandeliers dangle in the center of the high ceiling. Wood panels hang to the left—their style familiar
.

I glance suspiciously at Jaeger. He’s looking straight ahead, maneuvering around our table to pull out my chair. Our section is private, with the best view of the lake and mountains.

Menu in hand, maître d’ gone, I glance at the murals again. They’re larger than the ones in Jaeger’s shop, but I recognize his stamp. “Jaeger, are those yours?”

His gaze flickers to the wall, then back at the menu, as if his art on display in one of the best restaurants in town is no big deal. “Tao is a client.”

Holy shit. My boyfriend is famous. Well, maybe not famous, but he’s an important artist to be on center display in a place like this.

I grab his hand and link our fingers while I peruse the menu. I have no right to be, but I’m proud of what he’s accomplished. This summer has challenged me with heavy decisions and painful low moments, but I don’t regret the time I’ve spent with Jaeger. It’s been some of the best of my life.

He squeezes my fingers and smiles. “The scallops are excellent and so is the—”

“Jaeger!” A high-pitched female voice violates our perfect bubble.

The woman, a few years older than me, stands behind Jaeger in jeans and a T-shirt. I didn’t see her walk up. Then again, when I’m with Jaeger, it’s difficult to notice anyone else. She glances uncomfortably to the patrons on her right, who are staring, then back at Jaeger.

His brow furrows. He shifts in his seat and looks back. The side of his face that I can see pales, and he loosens his grip on my hand. “Kate?”

“Can we talk?” she says. She smiles at him as if to disarm, but there’s a plaintive desperation beneath.

Alarm bells go off in my head.

No. Don’t ruin this. Whoever you are, leave. Don’t take away the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Jaeger faces me again, his gaze fixed on the table. He glances up, his expression haunted before his mouth turns up in a semblance of a smile. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

I nod stiffly. He grips my hand one last time before letting go and following the woman to the entrance of the restaurant, where Jaeger’s sister stands with the maître d’.

Why is Kerstin here?

I pound my water and wait for Jaeger to return. Twenty minutes pass before he walks down the aisle to our table, rubbing his brow. He looks up, his eyes serious. “I’m sorry.” He swallows, his gaze distracted. “There’s a family emergency. We’ll have to do this another time.”

“Is everything okay?” Obviously not, but what do I say without sounding like I’m prying, which is exactly what I’m doing. Who is this woman? And why is he ditching me for her?

I stand and grab my purse.

Jaeger walks me out of the restaurant before answering. “That was Kate. My ex-girlfriend.” He opens the passenger door and helps me into his truck, sagging against the frame of the cab as if he needs the support to help him stand.

“
Which
ex-girlfriend?” Maybe there were a bunch and this one is some random, innocuous ex who happened to be at the same restaurant.
Ex-girlfriend
and
innocuous
don’t exactly go together, but it could happen. I’m in full denial mode.

“Cali, you’re the only girlfriend I’ve had in four years. Kate’s my ex.
The
ex. The one who dropped me after my accident.”

Of course his ex would show up after he’s moved on. That’s Murphy’s Law. But he moved on with
me
, and I’m pretty damn happy with him. I don’t want to consider how happy, because it will probably break me if it ends.

“She said—” He pushes off the cab and straightens, though he looks about to topple. “She said she had a kid. That the girl’s mine. She wants us to be a family.”

My mind goes utterly blank, and then a riotous array of facts and questions, mixed with a few expletives, clamor to get out.

How could this happen? She can’t have him. I—I …
like
him. A lot. A
real
lot. Why did she wait until now to tell him? It doesn’t make sense. She dumped him, and he was in and out of physical rehabilitation for a year. He said he never saw her again … he wouldn’t have known if she was pregnant.

Fuck. Just—
fuck
.

I don’t remember the drive to my place. It passes in a flash, and then Jaeger is walking me to the front door. “Let me find out what’s going on.” He breathes in shakily. “What really happened … I don’t trust her. There were rumors after we split that she was unfaithful. I’ll find out the truth, then I’ll call, okay?” He pecks me on the cheek and walks to the truck.

This is not how I envisioned our night ending. How could something so right go so terribly wrong? Am I jinxed?

Jaeger looks up from inside the truck, a pained expression on his face, before he turns the ignition and eases out of the driveway.

I swallow the knot forming in my throat and open the door to the chalet. Gen’s banging around in the kitchen while Tyler sprawls on the couch.

He sits up. “What happened? Why are you back so soon?”

I slump on the blue recliner, staring straight ahead, attempting to process what I don’t want to believe. “Jaeger’s ex interrupted our date.” I wave my hand, a crazed sensation rising in my chest. “Just showed up in the middle of the restaurant. Told him she had a kid—and it was his.”

Tyler’s eyes bug out. “
What?
”

Gen walks into the living room, an oven mitt on her hand. She doesn’t cook, so the image is absurd. Just like the rest of this evening.

I drop my face into my hands and squeeze my eyes closed. “Can we
not
talk about this?” After a second, I realize hanging my head allows gravity to pull the tears closer to the surface. I look up and swallow, blinking several times.

Gen looks to Tyler, widening her eyes pointedly.

His mouth is still open. He sees her expression and nods. Pulling out his phone, he starts feverishly tapping out a text.

“Leave him alone, Tyler,” I say. “He’s trying to figure out what’s going on. He doesn’t know, either.”

Tyler fingers continue flying over his iPhone.

I stand and walk to the bathroom. “I’m going to bed.” I remove my makeup, then change in the bedroom, hanging up the pretty blue blouse I wasted my money on. I lie down, but I can’t sleep. My chest hurts.

The sounds of Gen and Tyler chatting quietly in the living room filter beneath the door. That’s when the first tear rolls down my cheek.

I won’t do it. I won’t cry over another guy this summer. It’s pathetic.

More tears roll, landing on the collar of my homely flannel pajamas.

Okay, I’ll cry tonight, but that’s it. No more after tonight, unless … please don’t let there be an
unless
. Please let this be a big, horrible mistake.

Jaeger hasn’t called in two days. I’m dying.

I’ve gone from staring at my phone, to spending hours sketching beneath the trees, to walking aimlessly around the neighborhood until I wind up at the lake. On the plus side, my arms are getting ripped from all the rocks I’m cathartically hurling into the water.

Every time I pick up the phone to call Jaeger, I remember he said he’d call when he had things figured out. He’s never hesitated to get in touch in the past. I can only assume he’s still dealing with his ex. Or getting back together with her. It’s difficult not to think the worst, but a part of me hangs on to the hope that this will all turn out to be some ginormous mistake.

I’ve scoured online job listings for South Lake Tahoe and have sent out resumes and online applications. The waiting around is driving me crazy; job hunting kills time and distracts me.

My classes don’t start for a few more days. If I work at least thirty hours as a waitress or a dealer at another casino, I can swing living expenses and costs for community college. The student fees aren’t astronomical like they are at Harvard and other programs. With new classes, a new job—basically a new life—I might survive getting my heart crushed.

Maybe.

Okay, I’m not sure. Jaeger snuck up on me and now I have all these feelings I’ve never experienced before. It’s going to break my heart if he ends our relationship. Oddly, running off to a law program far, far away would be easier than sticking around to watch the guy I’ve fallen in love with torn from my arms.

In love?
Okay, that’s enough introspection for one morning.

I walk inside the chalet—the patio has become my office and art sanctuary.

“Where’s Gen?” I ask my brother, who is sitting at the kitchen table, typing on his computer.

“Said she was going out.”

“Did she say where?” Our talk helped heal some of the distance between us, but we haven’t had time to catch up on everything. These past few weeks, I figured Gen was hanging out with Nessa, but now I wonder.

Tyler pauses and takes a gulp from his coffee mug, the words World’s Best Cat Mom scrawled across the front. Either he’s less choosy about his mugs than either me or Gen, or he’s being ironic.

“Nope. Hey, what do you think of that Nessa girl? She available?”

Okay, that came out of left field.

I walk into the kitchen and pull out ingredients for a sandwich. I have an interview this afternoon with the casino across from Blue. It’s a smaller establishment, and I’m being interviewed by the head of Gaming. I have anxiety over this, considering the last head of Gaming fired me, but these people don’t seem to put on the same airs as the management at Blue. Maybe talking to upper management at their casino is a good sign.

“I don’t know if Nessa’s available. What happened to Gen setting you up with a Blue waitress?”

Tyler’s face contorts. “Shit, Cali. That girl was crazy. She got hammered and crawled on my lap.
In the restaurant.
I felt like a virgin preserving my virtue.”

“You have virtue?”

“I guess I do,” he says proudly.

I chuckle, inadvertently inhaling a piece of bread I had popped in my mouth. I hack until it comes back up.

“Easy there, girl. Don’t kill yourself. It wasn’t that funny.”

“I wish I could have been there.”

“No, you don’t. She was a damned piranha.”

“A man-eater? Are you serious?”

“She tried to unbutton my pants!” Astonishment fills his voice.

“You’re such a hot babe, Tyler. How do you manage?”

“Don’t mock, Calzone. You can’t see it because you’re my sister, but I
am
a commodity.”

Complaining about that horrific nickname results in increased usage, so I bite my lip. “If that’s the case, why did you need to be set up?”

He shrugs. “Gen offered, and I thought I’d give it a try.” He wags his head slowly. “Never again, Cali. Never. Again.”

I laugh and walk into the bedroom to change and get ready for my first casino interview.

Paul something-or-other, the head of Gaming at the casino across from Blue, looks at his notes, his mouth pinched. “Ah, yes, Cali.” He drums his fingers on the desk and stops when he realizes he’s doing it. “My assistant just reached your previous employer. I apologize for having you come all this way, but it seems … well, it seems we can’t offer you a position.”

What?
A fly could land on my tongue and I wouldn’t be able to close my mouth. With my experience at Blue, I’m a shoo-in for the dealer position.

An uncomfortably long pause ensues, while I attempt to process what he said. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” The interview has barely started. I haven’t had a chance to screw up his questions.

Paul nods, his hands clasped together. The tic near his eye does not bode well. He doesn’t come from the same cold stock as the gaming manager at Blue. He can’t hide his discomfort.

“Because you came all this way, I’ll tell you that Human Resources confirmed your employment at Blue, then transferred the call to a manager. The manager didn’t go into specifics, but said he would not hire you again. I apologize for the inconvenience, but that’s reason enough for us to eliminate you from consideration.”

“But—but—”

I was told before I left Blue that the dissolution of my position wouldn’t reflect poorly considering it was an issue of fit, as long as I wrote a letter of resignation. Which I did.

Paul stands and extends his hand. “I wish you the best, Ms. Morgan.”

My legs lift me, slowly and hesitantly as if they, too, can’t believe this. I shake my interviewer’s hand and smooth my navy skirt with trembling fingers. Face burning, I pass the receptionist at the end of the hall and press the elevator button to the bottom floor.

How will I find work if Blue doesn’t give me a decent reference? My other experience, working at a florist shop and as a tutor, won’t help me find a casino job that pays well enough. I got the position at Blue through a friend of my mom’s. I need the Blue reference as a stepping stone.