The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (69 page)

“Both, I guess.  I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Okay.  Here, I’ll show you.”  He holds my hand, and together we muddle the fruit and honey.  “The trick is to push and twist.  You were pounding and mashing.”  Slowly, he helps me apply just the right amount of pressure with the proper twist of the wrist.  “If you do it right, it will release the perfect amount of juice and oil.”  I can sense a devilish grin spreading across his face.  He whispers in my ear, “But be careful not to pound too hard, Jette.”

I give Derek a playful jab in the gut and as I do, we hear the front door slam closed.  Standing stock-still is Evan.  At first he says nothing, not a word.  He just stands there staring at us seething with anger.  Knowing Evan as well as I do, I can sense he’s trying to calm himself and temper his reaction. 

Hoping to underplay the scene he just witnessed, I grab the glass and offer it to him.  “Derek taught me how to make a Touchback.  Want to try some?”  Evan walks to the bar, grabs me by the wrist, and leads me into my office.  As we’re walking away, I hear Emmy lecturing Derek.  “Nice job, slick.  Don’t you know how to play nice?”

Evan slams the door shut.  Whatever he has to say isn’t going to be good.  I can hear the muffled tones of Emmy berating Derek for that little performance.

“What the fuck was that, Juliette?  Is this what you do here all day long while I’m getting the shit beat out of me by a bunch of rookies?”  He paces around the small office, clearly hurt and agitated.

“I’ve told you before, Evan.  It’s nothing.  I seriously don’t know why you’re getting so upset.”

“And I’ve told you that I don’t like the way he puts his hands all over you.  You won’t listen to me.  You won’t ask him to stop.  So I have to ask myself why.  Why won’t you tell him to stop?” 

He stares at me, waiting for me to say something.  “I’ll tell you why – you like it.  You don’t want him to stop.” 

He takes a deep cleansing breath, then continues, “Am I right?”

“Evan, please. You know there’s nothing going on.  Derek doesn’t mean anything by it,” I try desperately to explain.  I walk over to him and try to wrap my arms around his waist.  He peels my arms off and walks away from me.

Evan marches into the restaurant, walking straight over to Derek.  Fear of what is about to happen freezes me in my tracks.  Evan warned me about what he might do next time and I didn’t listen.  By allowing Derek to continue to flirt with me, I knew deep down inside that this could happen.  I watch in horror as Evan walks behind the bar and stands nose-to-nose with Derek.

“Listen closely, because I’m only going to say this once.  I thought we were passed this, but I should have known better.  I will not be made a fool of by anybody, especially someone like you.  Keep your fucking hands off her, Derek.  You have no idea what I’m capable of.” 

Before Derek can say anything, Evan walks over to me and adds, “I don’t know what kind of fucking game you’re playing, but I’m this close to cashing out and walking away!”  Evan is looking at me with an anger that I’ve never seen before.  It’s disturbing.

Evan turns away from me and storms out the door.  Should I run after him?  Beg him to forgive me?  Try to explain away what he just saw?  No.  He’s too upset, and frankly so am I.  He needs time to cool off and I do, too. 

Marcus and Ryker emerge from the kitchen to see what all the fuss is about.  They saw and heard Evan’s final declaration, loud and clear.  Marcus heads straight to Derek to get to the bottom of the situation and Ryker comes to check and make sure I’m okay.

“Stop, let me see,” he insists.  I look down, and I find myself rubbing my wrists.  Did Evan hurt me?  I don’t believe so.

He gently takes my hands in his and turns them over, carefully inspecting my wrists for marks.  “I’m fine, Ryker.  Nothing happened.”

“Big Mac’s got a bit of a temper, doesn’t he?  Has this happened before?  Has he ever put his hands on you before, Jette?  You can tell me.”  Ryker seems genuinely concerned that I might be in an abusive relationship with Evan.  Perhaps that’s because he really doesn’t know Evan.  In the month that he’s been here, he’s only met Evan once.

“Ryker, relax.  There’s absolutely nothing for you to worry about.  Evan’s under a lot of stress right now, and he just walked in on Derek flirting with me.  He has every right to be upset.” I try to rationalize.  “He warned me about getting too close to Derek.  I knew better.”

“Will you stop and listen to yourself?  Do you know what you sound like?  You sound like those women who take abuse day after day because they convince themselves they deserve it.”  He’s looking down at me with sincere worry.

Ryker explains, “Remember my desert rose with the big green eyes?” I nod.  “She’s not alive anymore because the man she loved lost control.  I’ll be damned if I’m going to just sit back and watch it happen all over again.”

“I know what this may look like, but honestly, it’s nothing.  We just had a fight.  It happens all the time,” I reassure him.

“You guys fight like that all the time?” he immediately responds.

“No.  I just meant that couples in general have fights.  Evan and I hardly ever fight.  Ask anyone – they’ll tell you,” I try desperately to explain.  This conversation isn’t going very well.  “Can we please just drop it?”

“Okay. I’ll drop it, for now.  But I don’t like what’s going on.”  Ryker returns to the kitchen, but I’m not at all certain that I’ve convinced him there’s no cause for concern. 

Before I even have a chance to try and calm myself, Emmy is at my side.  She takes me by the hand and escorts me to a booth in the corner of the restaurant.  “Spill.  What the hell was that all about?  Is everything okay with you two?” she asks.

“I don’t know, Emmy, I’m so confused.  We have our moments, but that’s all they usually are – moments.  This was different,” I sigh.

“I’ll say.  I think he just needs a reminder of how much you love each other.  Why don’t you go home, light some candles, and tie a big red bow around yourself?  No, wait – I’ve got it.  Get a sexy cheerleader costume – you can borrow mine.  Put your hair in pigtails and make up a cheer for him.  But make sure you bounce up and down a lot.  And don’t wear a bra.  Or panties!  He’ll forget all about this nonsense.  You’ll see.”  Emmy looks so hopeful.  She thinks it’s a simple fix, but nothing could be further from the truth.

A
fter I finish up at work, I decide to take the long way home and stop at Auggie’s for a visit.  I haven’t seen him in nearly a week and I need to talk.  Relief washes over me when I pull up and find his car parked in the driveway.  I knock on the door, cautiously open it, and call inside, “Anybody home?”

I’m immediately rewarded with a cheerful, “Jepetto!  Come on in, girl.”

We sit together and chat a little about Auggie’s work and love life.  He’s terribly happy on both fronts.  He just closed on a house in Manasquan that sold for almost a million dollars.  He and Lucas seem to be hot and heavy.  Auggie tells me all about the last play they saw, Chicago, currently starring one of the contestants from American Idol or the Voice – I’m not sure which.  He shares with me the pictures proudly stored on his iPad that were taken backstage, hobnobbing with the entire cast.

My mood immediately sours as images of the previous headliner, Averee DeVeau, come rushing into my mind.  She accepted an offer to do a short stint on Broadway starring as Roxy Hart just so she could be closer to Evan.  The ramifications of her intrusion into our lives are still being felt today.  Evan’s physical scars left behind will heal with time, but I’m not so sure about his emotional scars.

“I’m sorry, Jepetto.  I should have realized.”  Auggie walks over to me and gathers me up in his arms.  “Chicago.  Averee.  I’m a real idiot sometimes,” he laments.  “What’s going on with Evan?  Is he still sidelined?”

“Nope.  He’s been practicing with the team for a couple of weeks now.  Adam says he’s actually better than before.  There’s no more numbness.  He can throw.  He can catch.  He’s quick on his feet,” I explain.

“Wow.  Sounds great.  So what’s the problem?  Why so glum, chum?” Auggie asks as he pours me a glass of white wine.

“We just had a terrible fight, Auggie.  I don’t think Evan’s really dealt with the kidnapping on an emotional level.  The slightest things seem to be setting him off lately.”

“I don’t know what you mean.  Give me an example.”

“Okay, well, there was our night in Atlantic City about a month ago.  He got really upset about a bullshit article about him taking drugs.  I thought he was actually going to cry.”  I stop for a moment to take another sip.  “Then, a few days later, at our unofficial Grand Opening, he got really jealous of Derek when I went behind the bar to help out.  He thought we were flirting.”  Auggie gives me a look that tells me I’m not an innocent bystander in all of this.

“Don’t tell me today’s fight was about Derek, too,” he warns. 

“Well...” I don’t have to say anymore.  He knows.

“Is there anything else?”

“I feel like I don’t know how to make him happy anymore.  He’s not happy when I spend too much time at work.  He’s always crabby and moody when he comes home from practice lately.  As soon as he started practicing with the team again, it started getting worse and worse.  But when we have a day off together, he’s great.  When we’re alone and it’s just the two of us, it’s perfect.  As soon as either one of us sets foot out the front door, he’s an emotional wreck.”

“How bad was the fight?” Auggies asks.

“Pretty bad.  He said he’s almost ready to ‘cash out’ because he’s sick of my games.  Auggie, I swear to God, I’m not playing games.  Derek and I were laughing and having fun.  That’s all.”

Auggie points out, “That may be all it was, but I’ll bet my bottom dollar that’s not how it appears, especially to Evan.”

“But Auggie,” I argue, “I’m not doing anything wrong.  It’s just harmless flirting.”

“Maybe it is and maybe it’s not.”  He gets up and walks around the room for a moment before he continues.  “Let me ask you this – why don’t you like Lucas?”

“Wait a minute, that’s not fair.  You can’t compare the two.  He was . . . well, I didn’t like the way he . . .” He’s right.  The only thing Lucas is guilty of is flirting with Derek.  Lucas didn’t actually do anything wrong. “All right, I get your point.”  I slump down in my seat. 

Auggie looks at me with a sad expression of disappointment on his face, holds up a picture he took of Lucas and adds, “Pot, I’d like you to meet kettle.”

Hour of Need

I
take Auggie’s message to heart, mostly because he’s right.  Evan’s not here when I arrive home.  He’s definitely been here, though.  There’s food in Maddy’s dish and I see his dirty clothes in the hamper.  The first step in making amends is preparing a romantic dinner.  I find a nice bottle of Pinot Grigio and place it in the refrigerator to chill.  It’s Evan’s favorite wine.  To go with it, I decide on another one of his favorites, shrimp and grits.  His years in Maryland and Texas have definitely affected his palate.  He’s complained to me more than once that it’s nearly impossible to get good grits here in Jersey.

While the grits are cooking, I head out to the deck and do my best to set the right mood.  I put out a white tablecloth and bring out our best china for a romantic dinner for two.  I gather a bunch of candles of all different sizes and arrange them in the center of the table.  The shrimp are deveined and will cook up quickly in the garlic butter sauce I melted in a saucepan.  I won’t cook the shrimp until he arrives; they’re best freshly sautéed.