The Finish Line

by Vania Rheault

  Marta laughed. “You’re not kidding.”

  He propped his feet on an empty chair. “Let’s do this.”

  Ian cleared his throat.

  Dane leaned back to listen to him speak.

  Ian

  Ian rested his hands on the back of a chair. “I got a call a couple nights ago. I sat on it until we could all get together. It’s too bad Nikki couldn’t be here, but you’ll have to get her take on this, and maybe at some point we can meet at the house.”

  He had everyone’s attention, and they stared like he was about to announce a death in the family. He was making a bigger deal out of this than he needed to.

  “Out with it, man, or we’ll have to open before you get it out of your mouth,” Brett said, his arm around Alyssa’s shoulders.

  “Alright. I got a call the other night from the owner of the shopping mall. He owns a pretty big chunk of Tower City. He called me with an offer. A pretty generous offer.”

  Brett tipped his head back and blew out a breath. “Thank God.”

  Dane frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

  Shrugging, Brett said, “I’ve been thinking about getting out. I didn’t know how to tell you guys.”

  That was news to Ian. “How long have you felt that way?”

  “Not long. I don’t know. I’m burnt out. Miss my kid. Alyssa and I want to get married. We can’t exactly do that when I spend all my time here.”

  Ian agreed with that. Brett had echoed his talk with Marta almost verbatim. He wanted to get married too, sooner than later, and he couldn’t stuck behind the bar.

  But.

  “You want to let The Finish Line go? Now? After putting so much work into it?”

  Brett met his stare head-on. “Yeah.”

  “Then what would you do?”

  He tightened his hold on Alyssa, and she leaned into his side. “Marry my fiancée and the mother of my child. Take a honeymoon. Play with my son. Breathe. I’ll figure it out as I go. Our relationship has suffered. I didn’t fight my way out of hell to keep Alyssa only to lose her because I’m here all the fucking time.”

  Ian felt the same, but he thought Brett was missing the bigger picture.

  In the somber way he had, Dane sat back and listened. His life was stalled, waiting for Nikki to give birth to her sister’s kids. After she did that, what would Dane want? He probably didn’t know.

  The offer Jerry Overland threw at him had been overly generous. That told him one thing: The Finish Line had potential to be a long-time, big-time earner and Jerry wanted it. If Jerry thought it, then it was true. He wasn’t the richest land developer in the state for nothing.

  “Dane?” Ian asked.

  Dane turned his mug on the table, his ankle propped on his knee. His lips thinned, and he raised his eyes meeting Ian’s questioning gaze.

  “Who offered?”

  “What? That doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me. Who made the fucking offer?”

  Ian took a step back.

  Dane had a nasty temper, but Nikki and his visits to his therapist made his outbursts almost non-existent.

  “Jerry Overland.”

  Dane stood, his hands clenched into fists pushed against his thighs. “Fuck that. I’m not giving the bastard one thing.”

  Ian’s mouth fell open. “You have something against Jerry Overland?”

  “Fuck yeah, I do.” Dane stormed out of the bar.

  Brett scrubbed at his hair.

  “What’s going on?” Ian asked as Dane kicked at the sidewalk’s curb in fury.

  “Jerry Overland is his ex-wife’s husband.”

  Alyssa

  Alyssa melted against Brett’s chest. Something changed in him. He seemed calmer, somehow. Maybe because they’d finally been able to make love. Maybe because he finally told his friends what he wanted. Whatever it was, she was grateful for it.

  In the parking lot, Brett devoured her mouth, holding her face in his hands.

  Maybe they’d scaled a mountain neither of them knew they were climbing, but they were at the top and they were sucking in the fresh air.

  “See you later?” he mumbled against her lips.

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you going to do now?”

  “While Sadie’s watching Drew, I should go home and nap, but I’m going to head over to the store and see Nikki for a second.”

  “Don’t gossip long. Get some sleep.” His eyes softened as he smoothed his thumb over her cheekbone.

  “I will. Keep an eye on Dane?”

  “Count on it. But he’ll be okay.”

  “He didn’t look okay.”

  After the meeting, Dane came back but disappeared into the office. He didn’t hang around to say goodbye to anyone.

  “Liz’s husband wants to buy The Finish Line. He has a right to be pissed. If Tom started sniffing around again, I’d be pissed, too.”

  She scowled. The trainer she used to see had been so far from her mind the past year and a half she almost had to ask him who the hell he meant. “That’s like comparing apples and oranges.”

  “Not from my perspective. He was after you. He knew a good thing and wanted it for himself.”

  “Well, Liz isn’t after Dane. Far from it.”

  “Yeah, she is, but in a different way than what you meant. I don’t believe it’s a coincidence any more than he does.”

  “Go talk to him.”

  “I will, but we’re gonna open soon. Wanted to have you for a minute. Go home and sleep.”

  “Okay. Brett.”

  He looked down at her, his hazel eyes clear, framed by dark blond lashes. He would always make her heart do funny things.

  He kissed her, biting her bottom lip.

  She moaned, wanting more.

  That morning’s lovemaking session had flipped a switch, and all she wanted was more. More love, more orgasms. The basic human need to reproduce swamped her. More babies.

  Those would have to wait. She’d be smarter this time.

  “I love you.”

  “And that makes me the happiest guy in the world.”

  Alyssa parked in the parking lot of Dane and Nikki’s store.

  The Tower City Running Company sat on one of the main strips of Tower City and it constantly attracted traffic, especially during this time of year.

  The ninth annual Tower City Marathon was a week away.

  After the meeting at the bar, Marta had gone to headquarters.

  She’d taken over the race with little trouble, throwing herself into the position with everything she had. Brett had spent a lot of time showing her the ropes and it had rubbed Alyssa the wrong way, just a little bit, though wisely she’d kept it to herself.

  After all, he’d helped Marta find her place in Tower City and Alyssa couldn’t have been happier for her.

  When her surgeon said that her ankle hadn’t healed as it should have and she shouldn’t risk further injury trying to run, she’d taken it in stride. They’d all held their breaths waiting for the second shoe to drop, pardon the pun, but it seemed as if Ian, Sadie, and the girls filled the hole running left.

  Alyssa put Brett and Marta’s past behind her the best she could and turned Marta into one of her closest friends.

  She caught Nikki during a lull, and her best friend stood behind the counter guzzling water. She looked amazing for carrying two babies, statuesque, her skin glowing, like a model out of a maternity magazine.

  No one would compare her to a whale.

  Nikki helped her with Drew as much as she possibly could to help her heal, physically as well as mentally. It meant the world to her she had a friend she could trust. She’d had attachment issues thinking no one could take care of Drew as well as she could, and the first few times Nikki or her mother fed him, changed him, or rocked him, letting her rest, instead of sleeping, she’d been a puddle of raw nerves and guilt.

  It took a lot of talking with Brett to make her realize asking for help, and taking it, didn’t m
ake her a bad mother.

  “Hey,” she said, stepping up to the counter.

  “Hey. Come in for some clothes?”

  Alyssa considered the question. It would do her good to start exercising, but she’d talk to Brett first. If she started again, she wanted to go with him. Spending time with him, stealing kisses, him slapping her ass if she lagged behind.

  Her cheeks pinked thinking about it.

  He really had started something this morning.

  “I know that look. And it’s not about clothes.”

  “Stop it. If I want to get out there, I have my old stuff. I didn’t toss any of it. I wanted to come in and warn you.”

  Nikki lowered her water bottle. “Is this about the meeting?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s have it. It can’t be that bad.”

  “I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

  “Okay.”

  “Ian got an offer on the bar.”

  “An offer? Is it for sale? Did the guys put it on the market without telling me? Did you know?” Nikki’s cheeks lost all their color.

  “Jesus. Calm down or you’ll go into labor right here and Stacy will kill me. No. Ian got an offer, but the bar isn’t for sale. He wanted to let the guys know, that’s all.”

  Nikki nodded. “That doesn’t sound terrible. Dane had a problem with it?”

  “Jerry Overland made the offer.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Liz’s husband. You said he’s in development. He owns the mall.”

  “Oh. Oh. I guess Dane didn’t like that.”

  “No.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “I want to say yes, but I don’t think so, Nik.”

  A large group of people came into the store, laughing and chatting about the marathon.

  “I better get back to work. Thanks for telling me.”

  “No problem. I hope you’re going home soon. I hurt just looking at you standing there.”

  “I feel okay, but someone comes in at one and I can leave then. It’s finals week at the university, and some of the part-timers’ schedules have been messed up because of that.”

  “Good, get some sleep.”

  “I will. Stacy keeps a journal.” Nikki wrinkled her nose.

  “You’re a saint, that’s all I can say.”

  Alyssa let herself out, running her hand along a new pair of running shoes.

  Pregnancy was hard enough to go through for her own baby; she’d never do it for someone else.

  Taking advantage of Sadie babysitting Drew, Alyssa went home for a quick nap. She had a feeling Brett would keep her up . . . all night.

  Nikki

  After a cool shower, Nikki Montgomery rubbed shea butter into the tight skin of her belly. She liked the feel of the babies moving under her hands.

  No one understood why she would carry babies for her sister.

  Stacy kept a brave face for everyone but her. Only she knew how much Stacy yearned for children of her own. After so many rounds of IVF, they couldn’t afford to hire a surrogate, and even if they could, with her parents help, Jack wasn’t on board with a stranger carrying his children.

  When she and Stacy broached the subject with him, he agreed almost immediately. Stacy and Nikki shared blood, but more importantly, he knew Nikki lived a healthy lifestyle. She ran, ate well.

  Dane had been the only hitch in the plan. It took a lot of convincing to get him to agree to the idea the first child she would carry wouldn’t be theirs. She tried to explain the timing worked out better for them. Brett worked all the time. She didn’t know how Alyssa battled with postpartum depression, got enough sleep, took care of her episiotomy stitches, and breastfed Drew by herself.

  She tried to help when she could, but at the beginning Alyssa had a hard time letting her hold Drew, much less leaving him with her to sleep or go to the salon to get her hair done.

  Something in Alyssa changed after Stacy and Jack’s embryos took. Maybe Alyssa was able to look at her as a mother, but whatever it had been, Nikki took care of Drew a lot after that. She still babysat the little guy as much as she could giving Alyssa time to write, but mustering up the energy to run around after a toddler became harder and harder. Sadie, on the other hand, was a much better choice these days.

  After letting the lotion soak into her skin and dressing in a maternity tank top and a matching pair of shorts, she sent Stacy her daily email. Her sister was a bit over the top when it came to micromanaging her day—emails, video chats, and phone calls all to make sure she was doing what she was supposed to be—but her sister wanted everything to go perfectly. Besides the fatigue that weighed on her no matter how many hours she slept, things were going well.

  The twins were perfect.

  Her doctor said this was a textbook case if she ever saw one.

  Nikki was putting together a late dinner when Dane came home, and his foul mood made her skin clammy.

  He still saw his therapist twice a month and still drank half the alcohol he used to before she ran out on him. She’d known what she was signing up for when she married him. The relationship with his parents had still been rocky, Liz hadn’t faded into the background, and his relationship with Holly had still bothered her.

  They were happy, but Dane’s past wouldn’t leave him alone, and he was always searching, always looking for something to blame her for. Something to accuse her of.

  He’d deny it, if she ever told him that’s how she felt.

  She thought she could handle it, and for a long time she had.

  Then the opportunity to help Stacy materialized, and she treaded lightly whenever the subject came up. Which it did, frequently, but she couldn’t expect any less looking the way she did.

  Now the offer on The Finish Line.

  If Alyssa said he hadn’t taken the news well, then he hadn’t. She wasn’t one to exaggerate.

  Dane slammed the door and she jumped, cutting her hand with the knife she was using to slice tomatoes for salads.

  “Crap.” She shoved her finger into her mouth.

  Dane dropped his keys onto the counter. “What happened?”

  “I cut myself,” she mumbled.

  “Be careful.” He pulled at her hand and examined the cut. It oozed blood. “You should wash it off.”

  “Ok—”

  He yanked her hand under the faucet and turned on the stream.

  “Ouch.” She tried to pull her hand away. “You’re hurting me.”

  Letting go he said, “Sorry. I’ll get you a bandage.”

  “Thanks.” Nikki pushed a paper towel to the cut and leaned against the counter.

  Shaking the box, he came back into the kitchen and holding her hand, wrapped the bandage around her finger. “How’s that?”

  “Fine.”

  “I need to change.”

  He stomped toward the bedroom, his shoulders set in a rigid line.

  She wanted to talk to him but she’d learned pushing him had the opposite affect she wanted, and they ate in silence, sitting at the small kitchen table. When she finished the last bite of lettuce, she said, “It’s not a big deal, you know. You don’t have to sell the bar.”

  Dane scoffed. “We probably will since Brett doesn’t want to be a part of it anymore.”

  She dropped her fork. “Really? Alyssa didn’t say anything when she came in to see me at the store. Can you and Ian run it alone?”

  “I’ll do what I have to do. I’m not selling to that asshole.”

  “You don’t mean Ian?”

  “Liz’s husband. That fucker isn’t getting his hands on something I worked so hard to build.”

  “Dane. That isn’t necessary.”

  “What? Me calling him a fucker? It’s not a coincidence he wants my bar.”

  “No, it’s not. He buys successful businesses. You made The Finish Line a hot spot. Why wouldn’t he want it?”

  “Liz put him up to it because she doesn’t want me to have anything.”

  He
crossed his arms over his chest and stared sullenly at the table.

  She tried to control her temper. Suppressing a groan, she stood and placed their bowls in the sink. “Not everything is about you. I’m going to bed.”

  “Do you feel okay?”

  “What do you care?”

  Dane let her go.

  She waited for him to come into the bedroom to talk, but he never did.

  Ian

  Ian dragged himself home after closing the bar. They could hire a manager, but it seemed an unnecessary expense when the three of them had shared the opening and closing duties up until now.

  They did a lot on their own, made do with a minimal wait staff, and worked with a back-up bartender. Ian even helped Bobbi in the kitchen once or twice when one of her assistants had called in sick.

  They all knew how to run the dishwasher.

  After a year in business they had things down the way they wanted, but he had to admit it took a lot out of him, too.

  A dim light lit up the living room, and Marta sat in a padded glider, feeding Hannah.

  “Hey. What’s up?”

  “Giving Sadie a break. She watched Drew and Shyla for most of the day.”

  “She’s a good girl.”

  “Who?”

  “Sadie. She’s come a long way. I’m proud of her.”

  Marta yawned. “She’s a big help, that’s for sure.”

  “She loves you, and she does it because you ask.”

  “She’s a natural mother, but she tries to act tough and hide it. Drew adores her. That helps Alyssa feel better about leaving him here.”

  “She and Brett are having sex again,” he said.

  She laughed quietly. “And you know this how?”

  Ian sat on the couch. Hannah sucked the bottle almost dry. She and Shyla looked so much alike when they were out in public people thought they were sisters.

  “Dane was teasing them at the meeting. You didn’t hear?”

  “No, I must have been on the phone. That’s good, though.”

  “You don’t care,” he asked, pressing her. They’d come a long way, he and Marta, but her history with Brett might always leave a sour taste in his mouth.