Janie (The Casanova Club Book 15)

by Ali Parker

  I prayed for it not to end as we both descended into euphoria together. His lips against mine sealed my cries, and I remembered the last time we’d had sex, when we both knew our relationship was over and all there was left to do was say goodbye.

  I’d cried in the dark, hoping he didn’t notice. He’d wiped my tears as he moved inside me. Now felt very much the same. Neither of us wanted to let go of the other, even though we knew we had to.

  Chapter 14

  Max

  Even at nine o’clock at night, it was roasting hot outside.

  The air-conditioned bar was a welcome reprieve from the sweltering heat. As soon as I stepped inside, I was greeted with a cool burst of air and a smile from the hostess, who asked if it was a table for one.

  “I’m meeting someone,” I told her as I pinched the front of my shirt and pulled it away and back from my skin rapidly, creating air flow between my body and the fabric. The Silicon Valley heat didn’t usually get to me like this.

  I wondered if it had anything to do with the episode in my office with Janie.

  It had been frantic and wild. Half of me felt like it hadn’t even happened. One minute, I was inside her and she had her legs wrapped around my waist like she used to when I took her on her back. The next, she was hopping down from my desk, fixing her skirt, and fanning her cheeks while telling me we shouldn’t have let that happen.

  Shouldn’t have and couldn’t help ourselves were two different things, I’d told her. At least she’d smiled.

  I tried to stop thinking about Janie as I looked around the bar to seek out my after-dinner drinks companion. I spotted him at the bar, his broad shoulders and dark beard making him an easy target in a place like this. Where most of the clientele were slim business-folks with fake tans, a healthy complexion of Botox, and designer suits, Jeremiah was an ox. He didn’t belong in a place like this. His sheer size and bearded face made him look even larger and more imposing than he actually was.

  He stood from his barstool when he saw me coming. A white grin broke through his beard and he held out a hand for me to shake. As soon as I clasped it, he pulled me in for a one-armed hug and clapped my back with his free hand.

  “How’ve you been, brother?” Jeremiah’s deep voice vibrated against me.

  We broke apart and took our seats at the bar. “Been good, been good,” I lied. “How about you?”

  Jeremiah shrugged with his entire body. “I’m here, so I’ve been better.”

  I laughed.

  As much as Jeremiah didn’t suit this town, the town didn’t suit him. He was a wilderness man through and through. His calling was in the forests, working with his hands. He preferred clean air and rich soil under his boots, not pavement and carbon emissions.

  Jeremiah flagged down the bartender and we each ordered a beer from the tap.

  My big friend shifted in his seat and rested one elbow on the bar. “I’m glad you were able to meet up. Sorry about the late notice. I didn’t know I would be in town until two days before my flight.”

  Jeremiah had business here in Silicon Valley. I hadn’t pried into what that business was but I’d taken him up on his offer to catch up over drinks.

  “I’m just glad I get to see you,” I said.

  The bartender dropped off our beers. Jeremiah and I each took a healthy swig before setting our glasses back down on cardboard Guinness coasters.

  “How long has it been?” Jeremiah asked.

  “We saw each other once since the wedding. Six months ago, I think.”

  “Really?” Jeremiah’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I suppose that adds up. Been a weird year, hasn’t it?”

  “You could say that again,” I grumbled. Suddenly itching for another drink, I picked up my beer and drained half the glass in four gulps.

  Jeremiah watched with calculating eyes. “You sure you’re all right?”

  “Hanging in there.”

  “That isn’t the same thing as all right.”

  I shot my friend a steady stare. “I’m fine.”

  Jeremiah chuckled. “You’re full of shit.”

  “Have you heard from Levi?” I asked, hoping the subject of the rock star with a drinking problem would steer Jeremiah out of my business. He had good intentions, I knew that, but after the day I’d had, I didn’t feel like getting into it all over again with details about my current predicament. I’d already talked to Sienna, Janie, and Holly about the mess I’d made.

  A conversation about literally anything else was much more preferable.

  Jeremiah leaned back on his stool. “He keeps pretty well to himself these days but I heard from a few of the guys who’ve seen him that he’s still sober.”

  “That’s good news. A little surprising but good.”

  “What about you? Been in touch with anyone?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. I ordered one of Joshua’s pieces for my office a couple of months ago, and I was in touch with Wyatt when I was seeing Janie.”

  “Right.” Jeremiah grinned. “Janie. How is she?”

  “Good.”

  “Talk to her recently?”

  “Yes.”

  Jeremiah arched a curious eyebrow. “You’re holding back.”

  Jeremiah knew about the breakup between Janie and me. He knew how badly I’d wanted things to work out and how disappointing it had been when it all blew up in our faces. He’d said all the typical lines a friend is supposed to say, reminded me he was there if I needed an unbiased person to vent to, and suggested I call her when it was obvious I couldn’t get over her.

  I’d never picked up the phone and called.

  “I hired her to work for me,” I said.

  Jeremiah hesitated before he rocked back on his stool and clutched his chest as great booming laughter came out of him.

  I scowled at him as I polished off the rest of my beer. “It’s not that funny.”

  His eyes were wet with humorous tears. “It’s pretty funny. Why in God’s name would you ever think that was a good idea? The girl turned your heart into a pretzel, Max.”

  “There were… unusual circumstances at play.”

  “Have you two fucked yet?”

  If I’d had a mouthful of beer, I’d have sputtered all over the place. “That’s none of your business.”

  “So yes, you have.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “When?”

  I brooded. “Today.”

  Jeremiah snickered. “You can’t control yourself around that girl, man. You know that. But isn’t this a good thing? You know, you and her back together again? If sex is on the table with a girl like that, you know she’s interested in something more. Janie’s like Piper. She’s the kind of woman you marry.”

  “You don’t think I know that?”

  Jeremiah searched my face and must have picked up on some of my anger because he frowned. “I’m just messing around. Why does this have you so bent out of shape? Most guys I know are tapping their heels together like they’ve won the fucking lottery after they get laid.”

  I sighed and slumped against the bar. “It’s complicated.”

  “Isn’t it always? Come on. We both survived the Casanova Club. We can do complicated.”

  “This is different.”

  “How so?”

  Jeremiah was persistent. I’d give him that. So persistent that as I moved on to dive into my second beer, I started telling him everything that had been going on. I told him about Janie’s sorrowful phone call and my offer to bring her out to work for me. I told him how optimistic I’d been that this might be a fresh start for us if we took things slowly.

  Then I told him about the curveball from Sienna.

  Jeremiah’s eyes widened with surprise. “A baby?”

  I sighed wearily and nodded. “And you’d think she’d want me coming to doctor’s appointments, right? I mean why tell me she’s pregnant and having the kid if she doesn’t want me there holding her hand through this? It’s her first child. It can’t be eas
y. But when I tried to show up and offered to take her to her appointment tomorrow, she shot me down. She’d rather go to the spa.” I slammed back the rest of my second beer.

  Jeremiah’s brow had been furrowed with a frown the whole time I was speaking. “I don’t want to be the guy to plant seeds of doubt or anything,” he said slowly, “but if I were you, I’d start looking for proof that this baby is real.”

  “What?”

  Jeremiah shook his head slowly. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just—I’ve had my fair share of experiences with dishonest people, and when you feel like something is a red flag, it usually is. If this Sienna woman is making you question and doubt her already, chances are you have good reason to. So protect yourself. Make sure this is real.”

  His words shocked me.

  Could Sienna be pulling one over on me? I wouldn’t put it past her. She was, after all, the one who’d snapped and beaten my car halfway to hell when I ended things with her. What wouldn’t she do to get what she wanted?

  Was there a chance there was no baby? Was this all a ploy to try to get my money, or get me to go back to her?

  My stomach went hard and cold all at once. I threw my hand in the air and ordered another beer.

  “Sorry to put that in your head,” Jeremiah said.

  “Don’t be. I’m glad you said something. It gives me a lot to think about.”

  “Would you put it past her to lie?”

  “No,” I said. “Not even a little bit.”

  Jeremiah’s eyes followed the fresh beer as I lifted it from the bar to my lips. “Maybe you should take it easy.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “This isn’t the kind of shit you contemplate when you’re drunk. You need to think this over when you’re sober.”

  I laughed bitterly. “All I’ve been doing is thinking it over sober, and it’s making me lose my damn mind. Just for a night, I need to not think about it.”

  Jeremiah sat up a little straighter and raised his beer. “Fine. A night then.”

  Chapter 15

  Janie

  It was well past midnight when I finally extracted myself from my sofa in my living room and decided to go to bed. I’d dozed off several times while watching trashy reality TV and binging on chocolate instead of having dinner.

  I felt full to the brim but unsatisfied as I collected all the individual foil wrappers from the chocolates and brought them to the trashcan under my kitchen sink. I was turning off all the lights in the apartment when my cell phone rang. It rested facedown on the corner of the kitchen island. When I picked it up, Max’s picture flashed across the screen.

  What on earth was he doing calling me at this hour? Was something wrong? Had something happened? Did he miss me?

  I lifted it to my ear with a frown. “Max?”

  “Janie.” My name sounded strange on his tongue. Slurred. Uneven.

  “Are you drunk?”

  He hiccupped, excused himself, and started laughing. “Maybe.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At home,” he said.

  I listened for background noise and heard a door close, presumably his front door. Keys jingled as they fell into a bowl. Someone else, a man, muttered at Max to get the hell out of his way.

  “Who are you with?” I asked.

  “Jeremiah.”

  “Jeremiah?” That was a name I hadn’t heard in a while. “As in big, brooding, cuts down trees for a living Jeremiah?”

  Max laughed. “Man, she’s got you summed up in a nutshell. Do you need a bio for your website?”

  Jeremiah, who didn’t seem all that amused by Max’s antics, continued giving Max instructions as Max’s speech became more slurred and harder to understand.

  “Can you put Jeremiah on the phone?” I asked.

  Max relinquished his phone to Jeremiah, who spoke smoothly into the line. “Hey, Janie. Long time no talk. Sorry about this. I didn’t know he was calling you.”

  “Hey,” I said as I tried to still the butterflies flying around in my stomach. Curse these damn nerves. “Is Max okay? What’s going on?”

  “He’ll be all right,” Jeremiah said. “He just had a few drinks too many at the bar. Bit of a rough night. He’s, uh, he’s going through some shit. You know?”

  Max laughed in the background.

  “I know,” I said. “He’s filled me in on everything. You too?”

  “Yeah,” Jeremiah said.

  “Did you tell him to call me or did he call on his own?”

  “He called on his own.”

  “I’m coming over.” I hurried to my front door and stepped into my sneakers. “Can you stay with him until I get there?”

  I hopped out of the back of the cab in the pull-through driveway in front of Max’s mansion. The cab driver was gone before I even made it to the front door. I found it unlocked and shouldered my way inside.

  “Max?” I called out for him.

  Jeremiah’s voice responded. “We’re in the living room.”

  I kicked off my sneakers, dropped my purse on the floor, and hurried through the foyer deeper into the house, where I rounded the corner into the living room.

  The first thing I saw was Max sprawled on his sofa. His head rested on the back of the sofa and his gaze was lifted to the ceiling at the stained-glass skylight above our heads. I’d always thought that skylight was one of the most beautiful pieces of glass I’d ever seen. In the mornings when the sun was high, it would shine through from above and paint the whole room in brilliant colors.

  The first time I’d seen it, I felt like a little kid again.

  Max’s head rolled to the side and he smiled drunkenly at me. “Hey, pretty girl.”

  It had been at least eight months since he’d called me that. I swallowed. “Hey.”

  Jeremiah, who sat across from Max on the coffee table, winced in my direction.

  Could he tell how much the term of endearment hurt to hear after all this time? I decided it didn’t matter. All that mattered was taking care of Max.

  I’d never seen him lose his composure like this. Max Fisher was the cool guy with the level head. He never faltered, never had too much to drink, never lost control. He was always steady. It was almost maddening.

  That was what made this all the more unsettling.

  “Come sit,” Max said, beckoning me to join him with a curl of his fingers and a slight tilt of his head. He patted the open seat beside him.

  “How much did he drink?” I asked Jeremiah.

  “Ten beers,” Jeremiah said.

  “It looks like more than that.”

  “And seven or eight shots.”

  “Shit,” I breathed.

  “He needed to cut loose.”

  “Cut loose,” Max murmured. “What does that even mean? Who came up with that? Cut loose.” He scoffed and shook his head. “Sounds like a cooking term.”

  Jeremiah and I shared an even look before Jeremiah stood up and clapped Max on the shoulder. “Let’s go to bed, man.”

  Max’s brow furrowed as he peered up at Jeremiah. “I don’t want to go to bed with you.”

  My cheeks flamed red, and I buried my face in my hand.

  Jeremiah chuckled. At least he could find some humor in this. Where I was worried about Max, Jeremiah seemed genuinely amused by the whole thing as he pulled Max not so gently to his feet and spun him around by the shoulders to face the stairs.

  With one hand on his shoulder, Jeremiah guided Max forward.

  Max shot me a crooked smile over his shoulder. “Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there?”

  I followed.

  Max teetered on heavy, leaden feet on nearly every step as we climbed the stairs. Jeremiah stood behind him just in case he took a tumble, but he never did. Max managed to make it to the second floor, where he veered down the hall toward his bedroom.

  It looked very much the same as the last time I’d seen it. Everything was a cool, soothing shade of gray, save for h
is navy-blue bedding and the artwork mounted on the wall behind the bed, which captured brilliant shades of blue, green, and silver in an abstract wash of colors. Those were new.

  Instead of stumbling to the bed, Max swayed and made for the bathroom, where he immediately began unbuttoning his shirt.

  Jeremiah frowned. “This might be my cue to leave.”

  I nodded. “I can take it from here.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes,” I said as confidently as I could manage. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t fall in the shower and knock himself senseless. Then I’ll put him to bed.”

  Jeremiah stroked his beard and retreated around the corner as Max moved to undo his belt and the fly of his jeans. “I’m sorry about all this, Janie,” he said. “I should have cut him off when the night started to get out of control. He just—fuck. I felt bad for him, you know?”

  “Believe me, I do.”

  “This is some messy shit.”

  Messy and infuriating.

  I gave Jeremiah the sort of hug you give a long-lost friend who you respected but didn’t know anymore. He returned it with a brief squeeze before stepping back and making for the top of the stairs. He cast one last look back in my direction as I stood in the open doorway of the bathroom, watching Max struggle to get his pants off.

  “Good luck,” Jeremiah called.

  I nodded and stepped into the bathroom. Jeremiah could see himself out.

  While Max finished stripping, I turned the shower on and made sure the water was hot but not too hot. Max began mumbling a string of apologies for dragging me out here at this time to deal with him in this state.

  “It’s humiliating,” he said.

  I smiled as I guided him toward the open shower door. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I called you drunk from my bathtub, remember? We’re allowed moments of bad judgment. Hell, I’d say you deserve this one. But all those shots might have been a bit overkill.”

  Max stood under the water and hung his head. Little rivers streamed down his cheeks and dripped off his chin and the end of his nose. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine for men’s skincare or something. I stole a brief moment just to stare at him and admire the sharp lines of his face, the angles of his cheekbones, the muscles flexing in his jaw.