The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (133 page)

Evan is deep in conversation, so I decide to join our friends, already seated.  The table is stunning, covered with crisp white linens, crystal glasses, and luminaries that light up photographs of children from around the world.

I take a seat beside Maggie and covertly slip off my shoes under the table.  “Four inches?” she asks.

“Five,” I tell her, rubbing the balls of my feet, trying desperately to get the circulation to return to my toes, which are beyond numb at this point. 

“I thought heels that high were outlawed by the Geneva Convention,” Maggie teases.

“They definitely should be,” I giggle, “but these are my first pair of Jimmy Choos.  I had to wear them, just this once.”

Adrien Brody and Mark Ruffalo are two tables away from us, posing for a picture.  As quickly as I can, I dig through my clutch and find my cell phone.  As discreetly as I can manage, I snap a few pictures. 

“Juliette, if you want to take a picture, why don’t you just go say hello?  You can’t even see their faces from here.”  Joey gets up and walks toward me, “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

I wave him off.  “Thanks, Joey, but that’s really not necessary.  I got the shots I want.”  I pen a quick text message to Auggie and the girls, and attach pictures of some hot celebrity boy-booty.

Eventually Evan rejoins our small group, but rather than take a seat, he takes Joey away.  “We’ll be right back.  It’s time to spend a ridiculous amount of money.”  Evan bends down and kisses my cheek. “Think you can make it a little longer without me?”

I twist around in my seat and return his sweet kiss. “I’d get up and join you, but I can’t walk.  You might actually have to carry me back to the limo later.”

Evan bends even lower, placing his lips on my bare shoulder. “Baby, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” 

The rest of the evening is magical.  The white-suited servers move effortlessly through the crowd of guests with bottles of champagne, regularly topping off my glass.  The A-list cocktail hour is followed by an unbelievable dinner prepared by Marcus Samuelsson.  Evan and Joey return just in time to enjoy the first course of truffle lobster salad.  

“So Evan, how many bids did you make?” I ask out of curiosity.

“Just one,” he tells me.  “But don’t worry, I made a very healthy offer.”  He doesn’t give any more information.  I can’t wait to see what he bid on.

Throughout dinner a steady stream of men and women in smartly tailored dinner jackets and beautiful evening gowns stop by the table, keen to meet Evan and Joey, shake their hands, and exchange pleasantries. 

After dinner, the auction begins, featuring Unicef-inspired gifts such as mosquito netting and an SUV built for rural areas, as well as a private dinner for twelve cooked by Marcus Samuelsson and tickets to Watch What Happens Live and cocktails with Andy Cohen.  Mikimoto, Zagliani, Le Cirque, and Barneys donated items for the silent auction too.  I haven’t heard Evan’s name called for any of them, and I’m surprised. There are just a few items left to award. 

On the large screen, I see the next item to be auctioned, a stunning display of Baccarat crystal snowflakes, seven in all.  Each one different and unique. 

Evan puts his arm around the back of my chair and begins to rub his thumb in tiny circles on my shoulder.  I can feel his grin, wide and mischievous.  Sure enough, when they call the winning bid, it is awarded to Evan McGuire at a whopping price of $10,000.  I look at him in complete amazement.  “That’s the one item you bid on?  Crystal snowflakes?”

He gives a cursory nod, and then smiles winningly at me.  “It’s the only thing I wanted, Juliette.  This will be our first Christmas together, and when I saw the snowflakes, I knew they would make the perfect decorations on our very first Christmas tree.”

I look at him and smile, so ecstatically happy that I want to hug myself.  Once again he’s demonstrated how thoughtful and attentive he is, reminding me how lucky I am.

Just when I think tonight cannot get any better, the lights dim and Katy Perry takes the stage in a glittering gold Michael Kors gown to perform her hit single "Unconditionally”, which she says was inspired by a Unicef trip she took to Madagascar. 

Feigning interest in the performance, Evan puts his hand on my knee and his fingers travel up my thigh. My breathing hitches and I press my thighs together in an attempt to halt his progress. I can see him smirk.  He whispers in my ear, “Knowing you’re sitting here completely naked under that dress is driving me mad.  I think it’s time to go home, beautiful.”

“Lead the way, Bossy Man.”

Coming Apart at the Seams

W
e have a routine for team travel days.  Sleep in late.  Cook a big, hot breakfast.  Lounge around the house wearing as little clothing as possible.  Pack an overnight bag.  Watch Sports Center for early predictions.  Leave the house by noon.

I curl up on the couch under Evan’s protective arm, enjoying the closeness and intimacy.  We’re listening to the game predictions and Evan’s a little anxious.  Tomorrow he’ll go up against the Broncos in Denver.  The teams are pretty evenly matched. 

Even though I would like nothing more than to take a weekend trip to Denver, we decided together at the beginning of the season that I wouldn’t travel with the team this year.  I have a new restaurant and bar to run, and that requires a sincere commitment of time and energy.  Besides, I can’t stay in the hotel room with Evan or really spend any time with him at all.  His time is consumed preparing for the game.

Reese and I toyed with the idea of flying out together to Denver to see the game and spend time with our old gang from college.  Plenty of them are still out there, and we’d have no problem finding things to do.  But when Evan and I decided to go to the Snowflake Ball, I had no choice but to cancel my travel plans.  It seemed like the responsible thing to do at the time.

My cell phone pings with an incoming message, so I slip from Evan’s warm embrace and scurry into the kitchen to find my phone. 

Auggie:  Did he leave yet?  Want me to come over?

Jette:  No.  Not yet.  I’ll call.

“Who’s that?”  Evan stands behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and leaning his chin on my shoulder.  He tickles my ear with his nose.

“That was Auggie.  He wanted to thank me for the picture of Adrien Brody’s ass from last night.”  It’s not a complete lie.  I put the phone down on the counter and turn around, stand on my tippy toes, and press my lips against his.  “I’m going to miss you,” I whisper.

He covers my mouth with his beautiful sculpted lips, and his mouth moves softly but urgently over mine.  He pulls back and I look up at him, seeing his dazzling blue eyes staring down at me.  He tilts my jaw up and gently presses his lips against mine once more before releasing me.  “Not half as much as I’m going to miss you.”

Evan turns and walks down the hallway to our bedroom to get dressed.  It’s nearly time for him to leave.  He emerges smartly dressed, carrying his camel leather overnight duffle.  I follow him to the door.

“Okay, listen.  If you’re able to get out for dinner, you have to go to Euclid Hall.  It’s not far from the stadium.  For breakfast, you need to go to Snooze.  They have the most amazing breakfast menu.  You’ll love it.  But call ahead if you’re taking some of the guys.  There’s usually a pretty long wait, and I’m sure they’d clear a table for you.”

“Juliette, I’ve been to Denver before, baby. I’m good.”  He puts the bag down and sweeps me up in his arms for one final kiss goodbye. 

When Evan steps onto the front porch to leave, he notices the mail has arrived.  He reaches in, grabs the stack, and skims through the junk mail before he discovers another large manila envelope.  “Juliette, here’s something addressed to you.”  He hands me the envelope along with the rest of the mail, turns around, and walks to his car, completely unsuspecting of the contents that are most likely enclosed within that unmarked envelope.

He waves to me as he drives away.  I hurry into the house and find a sharp knife to open the envelope. 

I lay the envelope on the kitchen island, slit the top, and slide out the contents.  It’s a printout of a still frame image obviously cut from the same video.  The quality is grainy but decipherable.  It’s another picture of me.  I’m still naked, seated on the old red club chair, but this time there’s another person in the frame with me.  You can’t see anything above his shoulders, so there’s no recognizable face.  But what is visible is the erection I’m holding in my hand.  It appears I’m bringing it toward my lips.  It makes me physically ill when I see it.

Unable to stand the sight of it, I turn it over and slam it onto the counter.  A hand-written Post-it note is stuck to the back.  In typical male handwriting, entirely comprised of scratchy capital letters, is an invitation.

F
uck.  I need to end this. My head is spinning, my heart rate has quickened, and I have a sudden need to run – fast and hard.  To get away from this situation as quickly as humanly possible.  To clear my head.

It’s December now, so it’s fairly cold out.  I change into my running clothes, layered to keep warm.  I grab my iPod, plug in my headphones, and head out to for a beach run.  The deck is empty; all the furniture’s been put away for the season.  I do a few stretches and glance up and down the shoreline.  It’s clear sailing for as far as the eye can see.

I decide to head south today, away from the boardwalk.  I think I’m going to take a long run this time, and I don’t want to be anywhere near the boardwalk.  I’m in the mood for quiet solitude. 

The surf is extremely active today, waves rolling and crashing along the surf.  The sky is a vivid blue, with a few wispy clouds moving sluggishly across the horizon.

The first song up as I begin my slow plod down the beach is a OneRepublic favorite of mine.  It’s got a steady beat that I can use to set my pace as I listen to the lyrics about how “Love Runs Out”.  I really thought David loved me.  I sincerely believed that I loved him.  Although now that I know what it’s like to be truly loved and cherished, I don’t know how I could have mistaken what we had for love.

He wants to talk and I’m not sure what I should do.  I have to be smart about this.  He’s trying to scare me, and I hate to admit it, but it’s working.  He’s been mean, cruel, and demanding, but he never physically hurt me.  Would meeting with him be dangerous?  Deep down inside, I don’t think so.

But is it worth the chance? 
No.

The first person to come to mind is Auggie.  He knows about yesterday’s delivery.  He would do anything I asked of him, I’m certain.  But would it be fair of me to ask him to fly to Denver on a moment’s notice?  It was hard enough to get him to fly home after the accident.  Hell, he wouldn’t even fly to LA with Lucas.  I think it would be selfish of me to ask.

I could ask Reese.  She knows David and what he’s capable of.  David has already reached out to her, so in a way, she’s been involved since the beginning.  Flying with her to Denver would make things easy, that’s for sure.  She knows her way around town and she also knows exactly where David lives.  But I hate involving other people in my drama.

There’s always Derek.  Goodness knows he can afford to take a few days off from work now.  But how would Evan feel if he found out I’d reached out to Derek first?  It would certainly open up old wounds.  Besides, Derek’s got a new girlfriend in his life and I don’t think it would be fair of me to insert myself back into his life in that way.

Out of options, my mind stills, so I run, and run, and run, hoping the answer will come to me.  My legs begin to burn, but I push through the pain.  I can feel my muscles cramping, but I refuse to slow.  I no longer get tired or winded like I used to, so I just keep running.  It’s easier in the winter.  The sand is cold, hard, and firm now, so it feels more like running on the street.  I feel like I could go forever.

When I get to the houses in Mantoloking, I know I’ve run at least three miles.  I check my watch and it’s been over thirty minutes.  Time to turn around.

As I continue my run, it occurs to me that I have a plethora of friends back in Denver.  I could pay a surprise visit to Sara and Ben.  They were supportive throughout some of my darkest times with David.  I don’t need to involve anyone here at home.  This way, there’s only a slight possibility that Evan will find out.  If I tell Auggie, Reese, or even Derek, there’s a pretty good chance they’ll eventually crack and tell him.