In a zombie-stupor, Steph stood up, stumbling after the roommate, and I followed after. Out in the living room, all six of the other roommates had gathered around the front door.
“Are you Stephany Mallory?” the man in the suit asked.
“Yes?”
“Sign here. I need delivery confirmation.” After she signed the electronic pad he handed her, the man gave her the package and left. Steph remained in the doorway, still stuck in a bit of a stupor, holding her package tight.
“Come inside and open it already,” one of the other girls demanded.
Returning to the living room, Steph kneeled on the ground and tore open the brown package like a kid on Christmas. The contents spilled onto the carpet. “Yankees stuff?” she questioned. “What kind of present is this?” The package included two New York Yankee baseball hats, two Derek Jeter jerseys, and a pair of foam fingers.
“What the hell?” I commented.
“There's a card,” pointed out one of the roommates. “Open it.”
Steph ripped open the envelope. A letter and two baseball tickets poked out. Steph grabbed the letter and read it aloud for everyone to hear.
Clara and Stephany-
There's a Yankees game today at 1:05. Want to meet me there? Text me yes or no and I'll send a car to pick you up. If you already have plans, I understand.
Leo
I took the letter from Steph, rereading it for myself. His writing was perfect, like he'd taken calligraphy classes as a child—come to think of it, he probably had. Or perhaps the oh-so-friendly Regina wrote the letter for him. “Doesn't he have work to do this weekend?” I thought aloud.
Steph squealed. “We have to go! Please, Clara? Please say yes. I've never been to a professional baseball game before…and it’s the Yankees!” She grabbed a jersey off the floor and yanked it on over her pajamas. “It fits!”
I reached for the tickets. “I didn't even know he liked baseball.”
“So...are we going then?” Steph demanded.
“If you don't want the tickets, I'll take them,” the roommate who answered the door offered. “I'm a huge Yankees fan.”
“No, I want to go.” I handed her my jersey and the hat, keeping the foam finger for myself. “But if you want, you can have this stuff. I basically hate the Yankees and would never be caught dead wearing anything with Jeter's name on it. So...”
“So, we'll go!” Steph shouted.
“Sure,” I said with a shrug, feigning apathy. “The tickets say the Yankees are playing the Orioles today. For that reason alone, I want to go.”
“Don't act like that's the only reason,” Steph insisted.
Rolling my eyes, I left the living room in search of my phone.
Prove to me you aren't an ass and I'm all yours. Really? The embarrassing words still echoed in my head. I already knew Leo was an ass—no proof necessary. And yet...
Just like I couldn't look away when I saw his naked behind and just like I couldn't help myself from kissing him back when he kissed me, right now I couldn't stop myself from responding to his request. After going without my charger for the last two days, the battery on my phone was seconds away from certain death, but I had just enough juice left to text Leo.
Yes. Send the car.
CHAPTER 11
MAGGIE
When Andrew and I broke up, I never cried—not one tear. It had been mutual. We both had decided something was missing and it was time to move on.
When Robby Harvey left me—after Dad caught us naked in bed and close to doing something I probably wasn't ready for at fifteen—I had cried for days. Dad had discovered that Monica was about to leave him for a wealthier man and finding me in Robby's bed had caused him to go ballistic. He'd made both Monica and Robby leave that day with barely enough time to pack their bags.
But Robby had made me a promise before he left. He'd said that one day—the first opportunity he got—he’d come back for me. Was that why he'd returned to Blue Creek? Six years was a long time, and I still didn't understand the reason behind his name change, but could it be possible that he still loved me?
I wanted the answer to that question. No, I needed it.
Although if I was being honest with myself, what I really needed was a distraction. Ever since my one little phone conversation with Leo, I couldn't shake him from my thoughts either. I told myself I was being borderline obsessive, only because I was worried. My crazy thoughts had nothing to do with Leo’s smile or his laugh or the way I could talk to him about anything. They had nothing to do with the fact that under his façade of anger and hate was the sweetest person ever. And they certainly had nothing to do with the hole in my stomach that felt a lot like jealousy.
So by that afternoon, I was on a mission: Operation Confront Robby Harvey. Find out why he was in Blue Creek, why he'd changed his name, and why he hadn't immediately told me who he was the other night. I had to figure out if he still had lingering feelings for me. And yes, I had to do this because I needed the distraction. Desperately.
But I couldn't throw myself into shark-infested waters alone. Normally Leo would have been my partner in crime, but for obvious reasons, he couldn't help me. I needed backup and one person sprang to mind—Anita. While my friends from the country club were notorious for being two-faced backstabbers, Anita could be trusted. We were twenty years apart in age, but she'd always been kind to me. And best of all, she wasn't very keen on my sister.
Leaving my Porsche with the valet, I waited around outside for Anita to get off work. I knew for a fact that she always got off at one on Sundays. I could have gone inside to wait for her, but I didn’t have the energy to plaster on a fake smile for the other country club members I’d likely run into, so I stayed put outside.
“Anita,” I shouted, spotting her just as she walked out of the restaurant's front double doors. Her hair was teased up into a messy but stylish prom-worthy updo, making her impossible to miss. I smiled because, no matter the time or the day, Anita always looked fancy and dressed up. Maybe not at the standards I was used to, but I still liked her style.
“Hey, honey,” she said, shifting her large purse from one shoulder to the other. “What's goin' on? You look flushed.”
I felt flushed. My breathing neared hyperventilation and my body temperature was practically feverish, but my physical reactions weren’t my biggest concern at the moment. “Are you busy? I need a favor.”
“Just fixin' to go home to my cats, which makes me free as a bird. What can I do for you? Something wrong?”
“I need your help. I want to go undercover and spy on Dean.”
Her eyes went wide, dancing with excitement. “Hot damn, you know I'm in! Right now? We goin' right now? Please tell me right now.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, right now.”
She took her oversized purse off her shoulder and dropped it into my arms. “Be a doll and help me carry my pocketbook, please. Now where'd that beautiful little car of yours go?”
“Actually, can we take your car instead?”
Without hesitation, she replied, “Sure thing.”
Anita drove a fifteen-year-old truck that was more rust-colored than white—it was perfect. We'd be completely incognito in her very forgettable vehicle. “Where we headin'?” she asked once we were comfortably—or rather, uncomfortably—inside. The buckle on the passenger seat belt didn't work so I looped the restraint around my body, hoping Anita's driving wasn't as zealous as her personality.
“Mike's Pub.”
Anita ground the gear stick down into first. She pressed on the gas, letting off the clutch too soon, and the truck stalled. Her second attempt ended the same way.
I guess I didn't need to worry about going anywhere too fast. “Want me to drive?” I offered. Anita had been driving this truck for years. In all that time, had she ever bothered to try to learn how to drive it properly? “Ease off the clutch slower,” I suggested.
“I got it, hun. Give me a sec.” Her next attemp
t was a success. Well, sort of. She didn't stall the truck, but we bounced and bucked our way out of the parking lot. Once Anita shifted into second and then into third, her driving improved significantly. Still, someone needed to teach this woman how to drive a stick shift.
As we drove the short distance toward Mike's Pub, I waited for Anita to ask me why I wanted to spy on Dean. Instead, she sang along to Kelly Clarkson on the radio. Anita had always been a good casual friend, even if she was sort of my boss. I knew my secrets would be safe with her and I desperately needed to talk to someone.
“I found out Dean is my ex-stepbrother.”
Anita's singing squeaked to halt and she immediately cut the music off. “I never knew you had a stepbrother. When was your dad remarried?”
“Six years ago to a horrible woman named Monica Harvey. Don't you remember?”
“Not so much. I was workin' as a night manager back then so I wasn't up on all the gossip.”
“Their marriage was short—barely three months. Dean used to go by the name Robby and he looked very different at seventeen. When I found him at Mike's Pub and begged him to be my date, I didn't recognize him as Robby Harvey—obviously—or I never would have asked anything of him. The whole evening he pretended like we'd only just met. He even had the audacity to get mad at me when I realized we already knew each other.” I took a breath. “But that's not really what has me all worked up. I should be worked up about that. I should be screaming mad and pulling out my hair...I mean, I loved him once and now he's back. How am I supposed to handle that? But all I can focus on is...”
She hung on my words. “Focus on what, honey?”
I gulped. “Leo.”
“Oh,” she said, as if she totally understood my dilemma.
“What do you mean ‘oh’?”
“I always figured you and Leo would end up together, honey. That's what my ‘oh’ means.”
“Well, he's in New York with Clara.”
“Oh shit,” she cursed. “Why we headin' to spy on Dean then?”
“Because I can't like Leo. I shouldn’t be thinking about him as more than a friend…ever. And I certainly shouldn’t be wishing bad thoughts on my sister just because she’s suddenly spending time with my best friend. And I loved Robby once. Maybe I could love him again. Maybe if I focused on him, I could forget about Leo.” I groaned dramatically. “Sorry, I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m just really confused.”
After getting my confession out in the open, this annoying stinging feeling welled up behind my eyes and a stray tear slipped down my cheek. Not much in this world made me cry and I rushed to wipe it away, willing myself to stop being so pathetic. Anita reached across the truck's middle console and lovingly squeezed my shoulder with her manicured fingers. “Everything will work out, baby girl. I promise.”
We approached Mike's Pub and Anita forced the shifter down into second before turning the truck into the gravel parking lot. With her horrible driving skills, I wondered if we should have just taken my Porsche instead. If we needed to make a quick getaway, we’d be screwed.
“What's the plan?” Anita asked. “A stakeout?”
“No, I changed my mind—let’s just go inside. We can order a round of margaritas and see what happens.”
At the word ‘margaritas,’ Anita cut the car engine and moved halfway out of her seat. “I'm likin' the way you think. Hand me my pocketbook off the floor there, doll. If things get outta hand, I'll need it to hit him upside his beautiful head with it.”
I laughed, hoisting over the heavy monstrosity. “What do you have in there, bricks?”
“Just two—at the bottom. It's not just a tampon and makeup carrier, you know? It's also a weapon against sexual predators. There are lots of creeps out there, Maggie. You always gotta be prepared.” She reached her slender arm deep into the bottomless bag, digging for something. When she finally found what she was looking for, she handed it to me. Pepper spray. “Don't be afraid to spray him in the eye if it comes to that.”
“What?” I clutched the tube in my hand.
“You might have loved him once. You might even end up lovin' him all over again. But that doesn't change the fact that he lied to you. Not only that, he's a beautiful man. In my experience, the beautiful ones ain't very trustworthy. So let’s poop or get off the pot.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Do I even want to know what that means?”
She chuckled. “It means…let's go have us some margaritas and confront the man.”
“Oh, God help us,” I muttered.
Leaving Anita's car, we walked across the empty gravel parking lot. As we approached the door, I noticed a white piece of paper that wasn't there the other night.
PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT WE WILL BE CLOSED FOR UPGRADES NOW THROUGH JULY 1ST. SORRY FOR THE INCONVENINCE DURING THIS RENOVATION PERIOD. PARTY SAFE, BLUE CREEK.
“Well, I’ll be darned,” Anita cursed. “Mike's doesn't even close on Christmas!”
“I know the apartment complex he lives in. Would it be too stalkerish to go there next?”
“Yes, that would qualify,” said a voice from behind me.
I sucked in a sharp breath. Oh. My. Good. Ness. Robby. His voice had a distinct grittiness to it, almost like a country singer's, and there was no mistaking it. Maybe his looks had changed, but no warm-blooded woman could forget that deep voice. Why had I?
When I turned around, I found him standing so close that I could almost feel the heat radiating off his tan skin. How had I missed him there? I normally wasn't this spacey. He wore a gray sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off at the shoulders, exposing his rather large and impressive biceps. He also had on gym shorts and sneakers, but I wasn't looking down. No, I was looking straight up and into his pretty golden eyes. The reality of being face to face again after so many years hadn't affected me at Dad's party when I didn't know it was Robby, but seeing him now felt like stealing a moment back from my past.
“Hi,” I muttered to the older, taller version of Robby currently standing in front of me. Time had changed his outward appearance, but mostly I wondered how much the inner Robby had changed too.
“I owe you an apology,” he said, getting straight to the point. “I should have been honest with you from the start. It was unexpected seeing you again and I didn't know how to react. And then when you asked me to be your date...well anyway, I'm sorry.”
His apology took me by surprise. Not many people in my life ever took the time to slow down and apologize for their actions. Andrew would have never dared to utter such words. And Leo...well, apologizing for him would mean admitting he was wrong. Leo very rarely admitted that.
I nodded at Robby, not sure how to respond to his sincerity, and decided to introduce Anita instead of saying anything else.
“This is Anita,” I told him. “The Anita who told me about you.”
Anita had been very quiet for the last couple of seconds, but now she blushed cherry-red and stifled a giggle. She reached out her hand for Robby to shake, and smiling at her reaction, he politely shook her hand. “Nice to meet you,” he told her.
“Nice…um, you too,” she said and that was all she said. Normally she couldn’t be quiet to save her life and now she was being abnormally quiet.
Robby smiled, acting almost…flattered? This surprised me. For as strikingly handsome as the guy was, I would have guessed him to be more accustomed to getting this type of reaction out of women. Maybe he was only being polite.
“So,” he said. A panty-dropping smile filled his face, one that he directed at me. “Am I forgiven?”
Did he expect me to just let everything go so easy? Fat chance. Maybe other girls in his life gave up everything for that smile, but not me. “No. But maybe I'll think about it.”
“Want to think about it over lunch?” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door to Mike's as if he owned the place.
“I already ate lunch.”
“Second lunch then?”
I huffed. “That's probably a bad idea.”
“It's only lunch,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the stubble on his jaw line. He'd been clean-shaven the other night, but today it looked like he hadn't taken a razor to his face since the last time I saw him. The scruff seemed to suit him though. “And besides, you owe me a favor.”
“Your favor is void!” I snapped at him. Anita was right, he had lied to me. But I came here looking for answers, and who better to ask than the mystery man himself?
“Why are you back in Blue Creek, Dean?”
The smile and the fun left his face. “I’ll explain everything, just have lunch with me. What's thirty minutes and a couple sandwiches going to hurt?” He reached for the handle to Mike's and opened the door wide. I peered in to see an empty bar on the other side of the door's threshold. The lights were out and the place looked dingier than ever.
“In here?”
“Sure. I'm cooking.”
“Fine.” I grabbed Anita's hand in mine and pulled her inside the bar with me. “But Anita's coming with. Oh, and we don't want sandwiches. We want margaritas.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he joked. “Two margaritas, coming right up.”
Anita, more familiar with Mike's than me, made her way into the dark and straight toward the bar. She dropped her heavy purse on the countertop and plopped down onto one of the rickety barstools. Robby flipped on the lights and then he disappeared through a swinging door into what I assumed was the kitchen. I sat next to Anita and took small, steady breaths, trying to calm my racing heart.
“Honey, you're hyperventilatin'. You gonna be okay?”
The sound of Robby coming back from the kitchen kept me from answering. He pushed back through the swinging door, a black apron now tied around his waist and a bottle of Patron in his hand. He looked me over, but his stare didn't just linger on my face. His eyes took in other parts of my body too.
“Eyes up here, Dean,” I snapped at him. “If you're going to ogle my chest all day, then I'm going to leave.”
He Belongs With Me Page 9
