Tension (19 page)

“Oooh, you’re good at that. Maybe you missed your calling.” Millie laughed.

“Second of all, the FBI will have a perfect reason to shit can me then.”

Millie shook her head. “They can’t fire you.”

“They can, but they really are going about it the wrong way.” Stella hung her head. She was initially out on worker’s compensation leave, but that ran out when her doctor cleared her for work. The GC’s office just kept coming up with other reasons to keep her out of the office. Now she was waiting for a psychologist to say she was mentally fine to go back and the appointment wasn’t for two more months! It was complete and utter bullshit.

“So, I’m digging the disheveled professor look George is going for now,” Millie said, changing the subject.

“What?” Stella asked, baffled by the change of topic.

They both looked at George, his hair longer that it’d ever been. He wasn’t wearing his signature T-shirt, jeans, and baseball cap, but a blue oxford shirt and khaki pants. Stella thought he looked more like a J.Crew ad than a professor.

“I think he came from an interview.”

“An interview?” Millie asked, her eyebrows up in question.

“I don’t know,” Stella shrugged. “He’s been asked to help do a story about me for the Associated Press. He’s almost done. I’m the only one left to interview, though I don’t know why he needs to talk to me.”

“He doesn’t.” Millie took a sip of her light beer.

“What do you mean?”

“He’ll just get a couple of quotes that you want out there, but he’s already done with the story.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m handling your press, bitch. He contacted me.”

“Seriously?”

George looked up like he knew they were discussing him and smiled in their direction.

“That’s crazy. I didn’t mean for him to go through you.”

“He’s press. He respects that and goes through me. You’re so lucky, Stella. He’s, like, the greatest guy ever. When will you get married?” Millie didn’t look away from George.

“Um, no.”

“No what?” Millie asked, puzzled.

“We’re not getting married, Mil.”

“You will.”

“No.” She shook her head. She’d just gotten used to being in a relationship; marriage was out of the question.

“Whatever, you know nothing.” Millie made a sweeping motion with her hand, dismissing Stella’s words.

“I’m pretty sure I’d be the only one who knows about that,” Stella said, red creeping into her face.

“See, that means you know I’m right.” Millie pointed at Stella’s face. “As usual.”

“Okay, I’m getting our phones now. We can check results and not fall apart, because we’re in public. Right?”

“I can do whatever I want,” Millie answered.

Walking over to the bar, Stella’s heart thumped rapidly in her heart. George looked up as she stood at the end of the bar. He handed their phones to her wordlessly and then went back to helping other customers. It was so hard not to talk to him or kiss him, but she didn’t want anyone to know she was there. She walked back to Millie and handed her phone to her. They both pulled up the Virginia bar website and punched in their identification numbers. Silently they looked at each other, lips turned up on both of them.

Millie screamed and the entire bar turned to look at them as she got up and jumped up, hugging Stella.

“I take it you both passed?” George asked.

Millie turned and jumped into his arms. “Yes!” Stella nodded.

“Drinks on the house, girls!” George announced and walked back to the bar.

Stella’s phone beeped.

I wish I could kiss you

congrats

She looked up and George dimples’ were showing, his entire face bright. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world the second she locked on his gaze. Looking away, she sent a quick text to her mom and dad.

call me esquire from now on

Her dad texted back immediately.

so proud. call when you can

Stella and Millie stayed at the bar long after they’d checked their results and drank way too much. Three months off her drinking game had decreased her tolerance substantially. She was giggly and giddy when the bar closed down. Millie kissed her goodbye and waved at George. Stella snatched the wig off as soon as the last customer left and scratched her head.

George pulled her into his body and kissed her. “Congratulations,” he breathed in her ear. “I was kind of digging the blond wig. Where’d you get it?”

“Down the street at the place where they have purple and blue wigs in the window.” She laughed and pulled it back on her head. “How long will you be?” Stella pulled out a barstool and sat across from where he was working.

“It’ll be awhile.” He kissed her cheek and went back to pulling out the receipts from the register.

“Okay, I’m going to head out.” Hopping down off the stool, she took a step toward the door when George grabbed her wrist.

“No way,” he said firmly. “Either you wait or I’ll get you a cab. It’s two in the morning and there’s no telling what’s waiting outside the house.”

“Oh, come on,” she said, kissing him gently. “I can handle myself.”

“I’m aware of that, El.” He wrapped his arms around her. “But you’re drunk. Do you want everyone to see pictures of you in your blond wig, drunk and walking into the house?”

“Imagine the headlines...‘Blond comes to Beauty and the Bartender’s House.’” Stella giggled. “#menageatois.”

“I was thinking more along the lines, ‘FBI Beauty: Drunk and Blond.’ Then there goes your disguise.” George ran his hand over her wig. “#stellasdrunkagain.”

“No one even knew I was here tonight. It was awesome.”

“It
was
awesome. I miss your face around here.”

“You see my face every day.”

“Give me a few minutes, I’ll walk you home and then drive back.”

“I don’t want to make you do that, George.”

“I want to do it, maybe have you model that wig and nothing else for me before I head back.”

“Um, still here!” Hazel called from the other side of the bar.

Stella smiled. “You have a thing for blondes, huh?”

“I have a thing for you, naked.”

Stella walked tentatively out of George’s house, pulling back on Cooper’s leash as they went down the front stairs. The sky was overcast and angry. Lightning flashed in her periphery and she turned to her left just as the rain started falling, pelting her with fat raindrops. Cooper pulled her across the street to the dog park, which was eerily deserted. Stella bent down to take Cooper off the leash. Pain flashed through her chest, immobilizing her. Cooper ran off toward the direction of the Potomac.

“Coop!” Stella called, but she couldn’t move and Cooper didn’t even look back at her. Within minutes, he was gone. Stella started crying. She stood trying to move, but it was like her legs were stuck in cement. “Cooper!” she yelled. The twinge of pain that started in her chest travelled down to her abdomen and she threw up, vomit splashing on her tennis shoes. Her hair was soaked and sticking to her face. “Cooper!” she yelled again, looking in the direction that he’d run.

Despair filled every part of Stella, the torrential rain made it impossible for her to see across the park. “Stella,” she heard off to the left. Turning her head slowly, she saw a male figure, but couldn’t decipher to whom the voice belonged.

“You’ll never be able to get away from me.”

Then she knew. She frantically urged her body to move; willed it to move. Jamie got closer and her entire body stilled, overwrought with fear. Her wet clothes clung to her body and she shivered as he approached.

Jamie ran a finger across her chest. “Do you mind me taking a look?” he asked, amused, reaching and easily tearing off her t-shirt.

“Don’t!” she protested.

He ignored her, ripping her t-shirt all the way down the middle and exposing all of her scars. He ran his fingers over her scars and she tried to bat his hands away but her arms were frozen to her sides. Now she couldn’t move her arms or her legs. His fingertips grazed the puckered skin that dotted her chest; goosebumps appearing instantly. Jamie looked at her. “See, your body still wants my touch. You just need to figure that out.” Jamie held her face with both of his hands while she furiously shook her head to get away from him. He leaned toward her, his lips lightly touched hers.

“NO!” Stella shot out of the bed with a yell. Cooper jumped off the bed, startled. She was soaked with sweat and alone in George’s bed. She panted and looked around frantically.

“Stella?!” George ran upstairs to her and wrapped his arms around her. “What was it this time?”

Stella shook her head, letting the tears flow down her cheeks and onto his chest.

“Talk to me, Love. Please.”

“Just hold me and tell me it will all be alright,” she sputtered through her tears.

George pulled her down on the bed and glued his body to hers, holding her as tight as he could. “It will be alright.” He held her and let her cry.

After what seemed like hours, she sighed and whispered, “I’m going to lose everything.”

George held Stella for about thirty minutes and she eventually drifted back to sleep. He couldn’t figure out how to help her. As bad as he wanted to, he couldn’t fix her. He kissed her brow, tucked her under the covers, and went downstairs to make coffee. He sat at the bar stool and drank his coffee until he heard the water start upstairs. He put his mug in the sink and filled a mug for Stella. He walked upstairs, trying to come up with some way to soothe her.

As he turned the corner into his bathroom, he froze. Stella was in the shower, the water from the rain shower head rolling down her back. She had braced herself against the back shower wall, both arms above her head. Every muscle in her back was taut; he instantly forgot about anything other than touching her. He put the mug down on the counter, stripped off his boxers and rushed to the shower. She didn’t even turn her head when he opened the glass door.

He turned on more of the jets and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her shoulder and she leaned her head away, exposing the sweet spot of her neck for him. She didn’t have to give him any other sign and he dove in, his mouth and hands everywhere at once. Stella moaned and he felt her body relax.
I guess I do know how to help
.

Following her complete breakdown that morning, Stella felt extremely vulnerable. She was straightening her hair in the mirror when George came up behind her, sweeping her hair to the side and kissing the back of her neck. Closing her eyes, she melted into him and put down the straightening iron. He turned her around and lifted her so that she was sitting on the bathroom counter. He pulled down the collar of her robe, trailing kisses on her collarbone.

“George!” Stella’s head fell back on its own. “We’ll be late.”

“No big deal.”

She kissed his top lip and pushed his face back. “It is a big deal. This is the first time I’m meeting your family and it’s Thanksgiving. I can’t imagine what they think of me.” Stella cringed inwardly; with all the false stories out there, his family was bound to think the worst.

“No, they know you through me, not what they see on TV.” He wrapped her bare legs around him.

“You say that, but people can’t ignore what they see on TV. They’ve seen me in bikinis, drunk, in my see-through shirt, and with Jesse. It’s so embarrassing. I just want them to like me.” Stella felt unusually self-conscious about meeting George’s family. She knew they were important to him.

“They already do, Love. I promise.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her neck.

She hopped down from the counter and turned back around, looking into the mirror. “We’ll see,” she said. Cooper entered the bathroom and stared at them both. “Will you let Coop out George? I’ll be ready when y’all get back.”

When they met in the den a few minutes later, George, in pressed pants and a dress shirt, and Stella, hair perfectly straight and clad in an unusually festive dress and cardigan, Cooper barked.

George ran his hand down her straight hair. “I like it this way, but I think waves are more you.” He eyed the dog. “Apparently Cooper doesn’t recognize you.”

“I don’t want to be me around your family. I want to be someone good for you.”

“Oh, come on.” He hugged her, her arms at her sides. “Let’s go, it’s a trek out to Reston.”

“So we’re going to your sister Kara’s house?”

“Yes, they live in Reston. Her husband has some kind of tech job out there and she stays home and raises their daughter, Finn.”

“Your mother will be there, along with your other two sisters?”

“Yep.” He nodded, backing out of the garage. “Kelly and Kate are younger than Kara …” He stopped midway down the driveway and slammed the SUV into park; the trash can had been moved, blocking the path of whatever car pulled out of the garage. “Fuckers,” he cursed as he opened the door and stalked across the driveway to move the can.

Even with her head down, she could see all the flashbulbs going off. Instinctively, she put her hand over her eyes, blocking a good shot of her.