The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (85 page)

Evan sits back in his chair and grins, contemplating his response.  He knows something, so I patiently wait for him to share.

“Before I answer, I’d like to ask you something.  Do you think that people reveal their private truths when they drink too much, or do their ramblings mean nothing significant?”

“Hmm, interesting thought,” I concede.  Since I have no idea where he’s going with this, I have no choice but to answer truthfully.  “It’s been my experience that alcohol just intensifies your emotions and personality.  It doesn’t completely change who you are or what you truly think and feel.”

“I totally agree, Juliette.”  A huge grin slowly appears across his face and he gives a little chuckle.  “Last night, you were asking me if I was going to marry you,” he confesses.  Completely embarrassed, I bury my head in my arms on the table.  “But that’s not all.  You also told me you thought we would make beautiful babies together.  I’m pretty sure that’s why you dreamed about little girls.  I have no idea what the deal is with the bear, though.”

I sneak a peek at Evan and he’s not laughing at me.  Thank God.  “Evan, I’m so sorry,” I tell him.  “I had no right to put you on the spot like that.  I’m so embarrassed.”

Evan gets up and walks over to me.  He crouches down and gently takes my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him.  “Don’t ever be embarrassed about telling me what your dreams are, especially when they’re such beautiful dreams.  Your dreams are my dreams.  You are my dream come true.  Don’t you know that by now?”

“I thought I knew that, but you’ve been so far away. I thought your dreams didn’t include me anymore,” I tell him honestly.  “So now what?”

“We stick to the plan.  I have the ESPYs tonight with Callie.  She’s really looking forward to it, too.  Tomorrow, we have an early appointment with the good doctor.  Let’s see what happens then.”  I nod in agreement.

E
van and Callie are getting ready at the McGuire’s home with the help of some stylists.  Evan insisted that I invite everyone over to the beach house to watch the ESPYs here.  Everyone’s here except for Adam.  It’s his job to stick close but remain in the background all night.  I don’t know if I envy him or feel sorry for him. 

Auggie is here with us tonight.  His parents brought him here earlier.  It’s his first outing since the accident.  I’m so glad to have him here with us.  He’s in good hands today.  He’s got four women fussing all over him, waiting on him hand and foot.

Despite the fact that most of us here are in the food industry, none of us feel well enough to cook tonight.  A real treat for a chef or baker is to have someone else cook for us.  Marcus and Derek agree to take care of dinner.  For them, that means pizza, which is just fine by us.  Here at the Jersey Shore, we have some of the best pizza joints in the state, maybe even the entire world.

We watch and wait for Evan to hit the Red Carpet.  I get a text from Evan at 7:30 telling me that he’s in the limo and he’s about to make his way to the Red Carpet.  We all gather around the television, and we don’t have to wait long.  I get my first look at my man, looking so incredibly handsome.  He’s wearing a sharp gray suit, a white shirt, and an orchid tie.  Just the right amount of facial hair makes him completely irresistible.

We can see Callie off to the side as Evan stops for photos and interviews.  Evan is so poised and comfortable in front of the camera.  When one reporter asks whom he brought with him today, he motions for Callie to join him.  He proudly puts his arm around his big sister and introduces her.  Callie looks lovely on her brother’s arm, dressed tastefully in a short, shimmery ecru-colored dress that shows off her tanned legs so well.

While we wait for the awards to begin, the pizza arrives.  The guys pop open a few cold beers to enjoy with their pizza, but not us girls.  Emmy and I have prepared Sangria Mocktails, an alcohol-free Spanish punch overflowing with fresh fruit and juice.

As everyone is chatting merrily, Marcus pulls me aside to discuss last night’s events.  “So, Jette, how much do you remember about last night?” he asks.

“Most of it, I think.  I know we drank a lot, too much, really.  I remember everything until we started doing all those shots.  That’s when things start to get fuzzy,” I confess.  “Wait a minute,” I grab his arm and ask him a question quietly so that no one else can hear, “did I get into a fight last night?”  He nods his head.  “Holy shit.  I remember now.  Ryker was there, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, he was.  Listen, I don’t like what I’m seeing.  I think it’s time we let him go.  He was only supposed to stay until the Grand Opening, anyway.  I think it’s time we part ways amicably.  We can write him a good letter of recommendation and help him find a job if he wants.  What do you say?”

Flashes of Ryker come in fleeting images.  I remember him showing up out of nowhere last night.  I can see him pulling up on his motorcycle long after he should have left the bar.  He seems to have a strong distaste for Evan, and that’s not a good attribute for an employee to have.  As much as it pains me to admit, it’s probably a good idea to let Marcus fire him.

“Do it,” I tell him.  “Just do me one favor, I don’t want to be there when you do.”  Something tells me that this needs to be handled carefully.  “Does Evan know what happened?”

“No, I haven’t had a chance to talk to him.  Not yet.”

“Marcus, I’m just getting him back.  I don’t want to give him any excuse to overreact.  Please don’t tell him.”

“Jette, he has a right to know.  If Ryker shows up again, Evan needs to know what he’s dealing with.  Don’t worry, I’ll handle Mac.”  He takes both my arms in his and assures me, “I got this.” 

I rejoin the girls who are hanging out on the deck outside with Auggie.  He’s been cooped up indoors for far too long.  Marcus opens the door for me as I step outside.  Camilla sees her fiancé and calls, “Oh, there you are.  Honey bear, can I have a bottle of water, please?”

It all makes perfect sense now.  “Honey bear!” I shout.  “That’s why I dreamed of Winnie the Pooh last night.”  I get strange looks from everyone, particularly Marcus.

Eventually, the moment of truth arrives, Evan’s on screen appearance.  He steps out onto the stage, along with the beauty Jennifer Cameron who starred in that long running television drama, The Valley.  For someone nearly fifty years old, she is unbelievably gorgeous.  The two of them get a roaring welcome of applause as they make their way to the microphone.  Always the gentleman, Evan allows Jennifer to speak first, only adding a few side remarks before announcing the winner and presenting the trophy to a basketball player from Syracuse.

Once Evan’s big moment is over, there’s not much more for us to watch.  Of course, Marcus and Derek are keenly interested, but as for us girls, we just spend the remainder of the night hanging out on the deck and enjoying the view of the ocean as night falls gently on the horizon.

At ten o’clock, I get a text from Evan to tell me he’s on his way to a few after parties.  He wants to show Callie a good time and introduce her to a few of his teammates and celebrities that will be making the rounds tonight.

I would prefer not to sit up waiting and wondering when he’ll be home, so at eleven, we all wrap things up and I bring Auggie back home.  It’s been a long day for him and he’s exhausted.  After tucking him in, I lock up and climb into bed, too.

I get a text at nearly two o’clock in the morning from Evan to let me know he’s home, he’s safe, and he’ll see me soon.  I text back a simple X O for hugs and kisses to let him know I got his text.

A
gain, we arrive at the doctor’s office exactly on time, well before any other patients have arrived.  The chimes on the door ring the most delightful sounds as we step into the office.  Rather than being greeted by his friendly secretary, the room is completely empty.  Evan and I look at one another, unsure what to do.  Is it possible we got our days or times mixed up?

Our questions are soon answered when Dr. Falkowski steps out to welcome us.  “Evan, Juliette, it’s a pleasure to see you both again.  Please, sit down,” he asks, pointing to chairs here in the reception area.  “Juliette, I’m going to ask you to sit here while I discuss Evan’s test results with him privately.  Can I get you anything while you wait?” he asks.

I’m momentarily speechless.  I thought we would get the results together.  Anxiety quickly dissolves into pure fright.  Suppose something is wrong?  What if they found something?  “No, thank you.  I’ll be fine.”

Evan bends down to kiss me, “I’ll be right back.  Please don’t worry.”  He disappears behind the door leaving me all alone.  While I wait, I take out my iPhone and search the Internet for pictures from last night’s ESPYs.  Each time I find a picture I like, I save it to the cloud.  When I find a really nice one of Evan and Callie together, I forward it to her.  Five minutes turns to ten, then to fifteen.  What could they be possibly discussing?  My mind is racing with the possibilities.  Did they find something of concern in his blood work?  Drugs?  Hormone imbalance?  Disease?  Blood disorder?  Perhaps the tests came up inconclusive and they are discussing psychological explanations.

Twenty agonizing minutes later and the door finally opens.  It’s Dr. Falkowski.  “Juliette?  Evan would like to speak to you.  Please join us.”

I step in and Evan is sitting in a chair, nearly bent in half with his head in his hands.  I rub my hand on his knee to let him know I’m here.  He takes my hand and squeezes, but says nothing.

“Evan, would you like me to tell Juliette what we’ve learned?” 

Still not looking up, he nods his agreement.

“Okay.  Let’s start with the positive, shall we?  His blood count, glucose, and iron tests were all well within the normal range.  The kidney results were borderline high, but not significant enough for concern,” he explains.

“Well, that sounds good, right?” I ask.

“Yes, but unfortunately, there are some results that are cause for concern.  Evan tested positive for steroids and his liver enzymes were high as well, which suggests he’s been on steroids for at least a month.  The amount of artificial hormones detected were higher than normal, but not at a level that cause me to worry about his overall health at this time.”  Holy crap.  Long-term steroid use.  Performance enhancing drugs.  That’s a career ending combination.

“Evan, is it true?” I ask.

When he looks up at me, his eyes are swollen and the look of complete despair on his face frightens me.  “Juliette, Dr. Falkowski and I went around and around.  I have never, ever, knowingly taken steroids.  Six weeks ago my voluntary drug test came up clean, remember?  How could this happen?  If the league finds out, I’m fucked.  Completely, totally, thoroughly fucked.”

“Does that mean someone is giving you drugs without your knowledge or consent?  How’s that even possible?” I ask.

“Dr. Falkowski and I have come up with a few possible explanations,” he tells me.  “The team doctor has been giving me cortisone shots twice a week.  There’s a liquid form of steroids he could have been injecting.  There’s also the athletic trainer who has been giving me vitamin and mineral supplements after each training session.  He could have been slipping me steroids in tablet form or the supplements themselves might unknowingly contain banned substances.” 

“Okay, so that means no more injections and no more supplements, right.”

“Damn straight,” Evan quickly asserts.

“And where does that leave us?”  Evan and I both turn to Dr. Falkowski for his help in understanding what effect this could be having on our relationship.

“Well, here’s what we know.  Studies have shown that high steroid doses produce greater feelings of irritability and aggression.  The prevalence of violence and aggression seems to be low, but it’s not unheard of,” Dr. Falkowski explains.  “I’d be inclined to attribute Evan’s previous mood swings to steroid use, especially given the fact that he hasn’t displayed any aggressive behavior during the past several weeks while he’s been on a break from practice with the team.”

“But it’s not just the aggression that worries me.  It’s the anxiety and paranoia, too,” I explain.  “Remember that weekend in Atlantic City,” I remind Evan.  “You nearly cried when we read those blog posts that night.”