The Man Behind the Legend

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The Man Behind the Legend Page 13

by Stella


  I literally had no words.

  And for the eight millionth time, I wished she’d found a guy with a different name.

  “So I was trying it out. I kept wondering why he hadn’t responded, and then worried I had scared him off. But then he sent me a text asking if I wanted to have dinner this weekend, I realized none of my messages were there. I thought it was a glitch. Finally, I noticed them under your name. I’m so sorry.”

  I sighed in relief—and then prayed she was telling me the truth. “Back up a second…who the hell told you to text someone that?”

  “My doctor.”

  I didn’t even know where to begin. My first concern was that someone practicing medicine had given this kind of advice to a patient. Although I left that one alone for now. “I didn’t know you were seeing a doctor.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t tell you. I’m not allowed to talk about it. I’m sworn to secrecy.”

  My mouth gaped, and I gawked at her. This had to be a joke, but she wasn’t smiling. Without seeking answers that would more than likely go straight over her head, I simply said, “Please tell me you aren’t paying this person.”

  Her brows knitted and she blinked a few times. “Of course I am.”

  “How much?”

  “Well, we came to an agreement. I paid half in cash and the other half in hair services.”

  I had so much to say, but just then, my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. I managed to gather my thoughts long enough to retrieve it, and when I noticed the number for Seneca on the screen, I pulled off the couch, freeing myself from her hold.

  “This is Patrick Moore.” I took a few steps away so I could speak without being interrupted.

  “Hey, buddy.” It sounded like Carl. But there was no way it was, since I hadn’t given him my number. “Listen, Jake from State Farm called. But don’t worry, I took a message.”

  “State Farm?”

  “What? No. Don’t be ridiculous. Jake from State Farm would have no reason to call you.”

  “Then who called, Carl?” With each question, I moved farther away from CeeCee, yet remained in the living room.

  “Jake from California.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a deep breath. “I’m pretty sure there are thousands of Jakes who live in California. Could you be more specific?”

  “You bet I can. One of my hidden talents is taking detailed notes and messages. Let’s see here.” He sighed heavily into the receiver. “Jake from the Seneca office in California called looking for you. He’s the corporate IT director, and his office is on the tenth floor. He doesn’t care that our building only has five floors, nor does he like to be called Boss Man.”

  I waited with a decreasing amount of patience. Between his antics earlier and again now, the meeting with Jasmine in my office, and CeeCee’s texts, I couldn’t guarantee I’d remain sane much longer.

  “He wants you to call his office regarding a trip. Now, before you get your hopes up, it’s not a trip to Italy, France, London, or any other part of Europe—he added that, probably to save me time from going through them all. For someone who huffs a lot, he’s a really considerate person. It’s also not a trip to the Caribbean, Mexico, Cuba, or any other tropical paradise. I can’t be sure it’s not to Africa, though, because when I asked that, he said, and I quote, ‘Have Patrick give me a call, and I’ll fill him in on the details.’ And yes, he used extra emphasis on the word ‘him.’ That was not ad-libbed. No professional message taker would add unnecessary emphasis.”

  I ran my hand through my hair, confused as to why they’d call me now—after the crisis with the site had been handled—and why I would be needed in California. The team they had in that office was made up of the best IT people in the entire country.

  Then another thought crossed my mind. “Hey, Carl? Why are you taking my messages?”

  “Oh, I was just unwinding with a round of golf and the phone rang. I figured it might be important, and I didn’t want you to miss it, so I answered it for you. You’re welcome.”

  “Are you sitting at my desk?”

  “Yeah…I’m on the phone. Where else would I be?”

  “Do you have your feet on my desk?”

  A soft thud was heard through the line seconds before he drew out a long, “No,” which sounded more like a question than an answer.

  “Listen, thanks for taking the message. But you should probably leave my office now.”

  “Sure thing, buddy.” And with that, the call disconnected.

  I immediately called the California office and spoke to Jake, who gave me a quick rundown of what I needed to know. Everything else he said would be emailed to me, including my itinerary. He hadn’t given me much to go by, other than I would be gone for two weeks. I groaned inwardly, thinking of how I’d finally made progress with the Lexi situation, and now I had to leave for an extended period of time.

  “CeeCee, I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’ve been summoned to the corporate office. I strongly urge you not to text anyone those kinds of things. Ever. We can discuss it when I get back in a couple weeks, but until then, you should just not use your phone. Okay?” I didn’t wait for more than a quick nod before rushing to pack a bag with my thoughts all over the place.

  And Lexi owned the majority of them.

  Just as I finished zipping my suitcase, I dialed the number for my office, having a feeling Carl hadn’t left when I’d told him to. And as predicted, the call was answered with, “Patrick Moore’s office, this is Joe King speaking.”

  “Joe King? Really?” I was laughing…on the inside.

  “Oh, hey, Ricky Bobby. What’s up?”

  “I thought I told you to leave my office.”

  “You did. But I wanted to finish my round first. I’m so close to beating my personal best of two hundred and ninety-one.”

  “That’s your personal best? And by round, how many holes are you playing?”

  “Well, I was hoping to get in the traditional eighteen, but your office is a little cramped. So I was only able to fit six without moving your desk against the wall.”

  At least he had some common sense.

  “I tried, but I kept yanking out the cords for the monitor.”

  I take it back.

  “I don’t even want to know, Carl.” I shook my head. “But listen, I was calling you for a reason. I’m going to be gone for two weeks. Without asking too many questions, is it possible you and Jasmine could keep an eye on Lexi?”

  “Oh, shit.” His words were muffled.

  “What?”

  “I hate to tell you this, boss, but if you had a pet in your office, I don’t know what happened to it. I thought I smelled something earlier when I was doing yoga, but I figured it was my shoes. Now I’m not so sure. What kind of animal is Lexi? And how small is she so I know where to look?”

  A long paused stretched out. No words. None.

  “No, Carl. I don’t have a pet. I meant Alex. Can you two do that for me while I’m gone?”

  “Oh, thank God. And certainly. I’ll take such good care of this place no one will even miss you.”

  “Don’t spend the next two weeks in my office.”

  “Can’t make any promises. This is turning into quite the oasis.”

  “And don’t pretend to be me.”

  “I’ve got your back, Ricky Bobby. Don’t sweat it. If anyone can do your job better than you can, it’s me. I’ve got a calculator, a dictionary, and a mouse. And if all else fails, I’ll just start yelling at people for their usernames. Enjoy your vacation in Africa.”

  “Carl, wait—” But he didn’t let me finish before hanging up.

  I contemplated calling him back, but the email from California came in with the itinerary and information I needed regarding my flight. Before I could get to the end of that, CeeCee peeked her head into the bedroom, asking when I needed to leave.

  “Um…within the next thirty minutes. Why?”

  “Just curious.” She smiled and skipped back
down the hall toward the living room.

  I felt like a circus monkey juggling live grenades. My thoughts and attention bounced between Carl and what he was doing in my office—and the potential disaster I would return to—leaving Lexi so soon after finally getting an ounce of hope, and CeeCee. There were far too many things about CeeCee that required a lot of thought, too much to spare enough time delving into it all.

  “You’ll be happy to know you won’t have to drive yourself to the airport.” CeeCee beamed when I made it out to the living room with my luggage in tow.

  “As much as I appreciate the offer, there’s no way in hell I’m going to get in your car.”

  “Why not?”

  “I feel like any answer I give will offend you, so I’ll just leave it with: I don’t want to.”

  Her brow knitted while she narrowed her gaze at me, complete confusion lining her features. Luckily, she didn’t push. “That’s fine, because you’re not going in my car. I’ve called a service for you.”

  “I know you’re doing really well at the salon, CeeCee, but I can’t allow you to pay for a driver to take me to the airport when there’s nothing wrong with my truck.”

  “Except all the money you’ll pay to park it. Such a waste.” She waved me off and rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve allowed me to stay in your house, and even given up your bed so I didn’t have to sleep on the sofa. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Okay, so when will it be here?”

  “Ten minutes. Go to the bathroom one last time so you won’t have to pee when you get to the airport. And make sure you wash your hands. Oh, and change your clothes. That’s a long flight, and you’ll be miserable in that.”

  I glanced down at my outfit and realized I’d never changed after coming home from work. She had a point—no one wanted to be stuck in a small seat in a pressed shirt and tie. Nodding, I conceded and made my way back to the bedroom for something a little more comfortable.

  The driver must’ve arrived early, because when I stepped out of the bathroom, CeeCee had my carry-on in her hand, dragging it behind her out the door. One glance next to the couch told me my suitcase had already been wheeled to the car, so rather than waste more time, I headed out the front door to meet my driver.

  And then I froze in place.

  7

  Chris

  “You about ready?” Lexi asked CeeCee, oblivious to my presence not too far behind her.

  “Oh, you’re not driving me, silly.” She giggled, glancing over Lexi’s shoulder.

  Lexi didn’t bother asking for clarification. She simply turned just enough to the side to catch me standing there, and the shook her head. “Nope. You called and said you needed a ride to the airport.”

  “No…” CeeCee dragged out. “I asked if you had the time to drive someone.”

  “I specifically remember you saying it was you…because I asked why you were heading back to California.”

  “Oh, did I? Hmmm…” She hummed and dramatically tapped her finger on her chin. “Oops. My bad. Anyway, thank you so much for this.” And like a flash of lightning, she was gone.

  I was just as shocked as Lexi, but I wasn’t mad. In fact, in this one move, CeeCee had earned the right to sleep on the bed while I took the couch. Hell, I’d sleep on the floor if she kept this up. Rather than say anything, I bit back my smirk of satisfaction and made my way to the passenger-side door.

  Not once in the entire time Lexi and I had dated, did she have to drive if we were both in the car. I wasn’t keen on having anyone chauffeur me around unless I was incapacitated, and Lexi preferred to be in the passenger seat. But not this time. If I were behind the wheel, she’d be able to get away with silently staring out the window. This way, I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping my attention on the road, and I would get the chance to look at her while I made her talk to me.

  Win-win.

  She hesitated at the front of the car, probably uncomfortable with more than just driving. At least she didn’t argue. She snapped her gaping mouth shut and stormed to the other side of the vehicle. Yet I didn’t miss the way she slammed the door closed after she threw herself into the seat. Nor did I miss the way she stabbed her finger into the push-start ignition.

  I gave her until we reached the first main road before speaking. “Thanks for taking me.”

  “To go back to California? No problem.” Her dismissive tone didn’t fool me. Ever since finding her in my driveway, I couldn’t see past the hour I’d get with her in the car without her being able to flee to understand how difficult this had to be for her.

  “It’s only for two weeks.”

  “So I guess you’ll come back in five weeks, then?” Considering she’d basically gotten the same response when I left for DigiTech, I couldn’t blame her for her reaction.

  “Listen, Lexi…” I reached over the center console and rested my hand on her thigh. I tried to ignore the way she jumped, but it was too damn hard. My touch had always made her melt, not jerk away, and I had no clue how to deal with this other than keep my hand on her leg and press on. “I’m really sorry about how everything went down. You’re mad, and I get it. I won’t tell you that you’re wrong for feeling that way. But it’s a two-way street, Lex. I was hurt, too. I was angry and upset for the part you played. I can take responsibility for the ball I dropped and apologize for not doing enough when it came to our relationship. It’s my biggest regret, and I’ll never forgive myself for letting you go.”

  “That’s awfully big of you.”

  I forced back the grin that desperately wanted to split my lips. Her animosity wasn’t funny, nor was the situation. What I found humorous was how hard she had to fight to hate me. This wasn’t a conversation I necessarily wanted to have. It was needed. And I fully believed that once it took place, we could stop living in the past. Although, that didn’t make saying the words any easier. I never wanted to blame her, but unless she opened her eyes to what actually took place three years ago, we’d remain stuck in this perpetual nightmare of who played the villain and who starred as the victim.

  The truth was…we were both victims.

  “As much as I wish I could take full responsibility and alleviate you of the mistakes you made during that time, I can’t. Because, you see, I wasn’t the only one who allowed life to steal my time away from you. You allowed it, too. We both lost sight of what we said was the most important thing—each other.”

  “Is this what you’ve been so eager to talk to me about? Why you’ve been hunting me down at work? To tell me how I screwed up so you can ease your own conscience and sleep better at night?” She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned almost translucent. “Well, I hate to say it, but you’ve wasted your time. Thank you for admitting you’d made a mistake. It really gives me so much peace to know that you’ll never forgive yourself. And as much as I appreciate your apology, I don’t accept it, because it was half-ass and backhanded.”

  Coming up to a red light, she pressed on the brakes so hard the car jerked forward.

  Then she turned to face me with fire in her eyes. “Saying you’re sorry only to turn around and pass the blame to me when I did nothing wrong is not only insensitive, but cruel.”

  “You really don’t believe you were at fault for any of it?” I knew she wouldn’t jump up and down and beg for my forgiveness, or even offer to take a lot of the culpability. But at the very least, I thought she’d assume part of it—even if it were only a sliver.

  The light turned green and she glanced away, locking her stare on the road ahead. There was no doubt in my mind she wouldn’t show me her eyes again, because even though I couldn’t see them, I knew they glistened with unshed tears—tears she’d more than likely sworn to herself she’d never give me credit for.

  “No. I don’t,” she responded with soft yet adamant words. “I did exactly what I was supposed to. When we realized a long-distance relationship was too hard and we needed to focus on our careers—me at Miriam
Pratt, and you at DIT—we agreed it would only be temporary. You said you’d come back. You didn’t. I’m not the one who promised to be somewhere and then never showed up.”

  “We talked about that before a decision was made,” I argued, refusing to be held responsible for not returning when she’d known ahead of time that was what I had to do—not what I wanted to do.

  “Yeah, you’re right. We talked about it. You called me and told me you couldn’t come home and then suggested the only way we could work it out was if I upped and moved to California to be closer to you.” She shook her head and conspicuously wiped a wayward tear away. “You have no clue what you put me through that last year in Washington, and then expected me to drop my entire life and come running to you.”

  I was confused; I had to have heard her wrong. She’d spoken so softly I wasn’t sure if she’d meant for me to hear any of it, yet now that I had—or, at least, assumed I had—there was no way to forget it. “What did I put you through? I mean, I know it was hard…on both of us, but I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I cried, Chris. Every night. In a way, our decision to take a break made things easier. It gave me an excuse not to call you because I could barely keep it together the few times we did talk on the phone. But at the same time, it killed me to hear you say that you felt things would be less stressful if we put our relationship on the back burner. It utterly broke my heart.” Lexi could no longer hide her tears—they gave themselves away in her shaky voice.

  “You agreed.” I was flabbergasted, utterly blinded by her admission. “I thought we both felt the same way. I didn’t break up with you. We had a conversation about it. I specifically made sure it wasn’t only me who felt that way. You said you did, and I believed you because after that, you rarely called anymore. I felt like I was the one always reaching out to you.”

  She sniffled and then continued to speak. This was hard for her, that much was apparent, but at least she didn’t shut down. “I didn’t stop calling you because I was busy at work or had forgotten about you. Quite the opposite. It gutted me to hear your voice and know we weren’t together. To question if your decision to take a break until after graduation had more to do with your need to have your dick sucked than it did the heavy demands of school.”

 

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