Meeting Destiny (Destiny Series)

by Nancy Straight

  “I understand you and Seth are friends, but I don’t want to go.” Max tightened his grip with both arms around me, his words slow and deliberate.

  “Max, I can’t cancel and I don’t want to go without you.” Knowing that trying to be authoritative with him was absolutely the wrong approach, I opted for a more playful tone. “There has to be something I can do to change your mind.” I intertwined my arms over his for a second. When he didn’t respond, I decided I had better be more convincing. I twisted my body around, so I was still wrapped in his arms but was now facing him. “Max,” I nuzzled his neck, “won’t you please,” I kissed his ear, “reconsider going to dinner with me?”

  Max closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “Is this how you’re going to win every argument we have?”

  “I sure hope so. Does that mean I won?”

  He said nothing but I could sense defeat in his manner. Max leaned up on one elbow and played with a strand of my hair with his free hand. I couldn’t understand what his reservation was. Rather than trying to pull it out of him, I opted for silence, knowing that if he wanted to tell me he would. Max, too, remained silent, paying more attention to that stray strand of hair than resuming his disapproval of my plans. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, “Okay, I’ll bite, are you mad?”

  He shook his head that he wasn’t. “Are you ticked that I made plans without checking with you first?” He shook his head again. “Did you have other plans that I didn’t know about?”

  “No, but I just got back. I want to spend time with you, Lauren.”

  “Newsflash, I’ll be there.”

  “Yeah, with your ex-boyfriend. I can hardly wait to hear about all the stories you two have together.”

  “It’s not like that, Max.”

  “I know you two’re close. The fact that I have an issue with it is my problem, not yours,” his words weren’t angry, but he wasn’t hiding his frustration.

  “Max, we broke up before you left. Until he and I went out last night, I hadn’t been alone with him in over three months.”

  “You and Seth went out last night?” His frustrated look appeared to be evaporating in favor of a little stronger emotion, “While I was working?”

  “Yeah, after I woke up I took a cab home. Instead of trying to get past all the reporters, I sneaked into Seth’s house and made him go out.”

  With brows furrowed at me and in a stern voice I hadn’t heard before, “Do you think that was something you might have mentioned before now?” Despite his even tone, I could see fury burning through his eyes, and I was caught off-guard by this reaction. I broke free from his hold on me and sat up on the couch, looking at him bewildered.

  “It never occurred to me you would be the slightest bit interested. Are you saying I need to ask your permission to spend time with my friends?”

  Max stood up, walked to the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator door. He stood there a long minute before deciding he didn’t need anything and closed it. I followed him into the kitchen and hoisted myself onto the counter. I knew he had heard my question; I wanted the answer but refused to ask it a second time. He finally walked over to the counter and put his head on my shoulder.

  “No, you don’t need to ask my permission. I just hate that you have a history with him. Is it so wrong of me to wish that there was no one before me?” Max looked up, the fury that had escaped a few minutes ago was gone, but what was it replaced with? It looked like - fear. Impossible.

  “Max, maybe you forgot one small detail. You’re the person I want to be with and the only person I see in my future. Who cares about my past? Do you need me to tattoo your name on my butt or something?”

  “Nothing that drastic,” he was still humorless, “but I don’t want you going out with him by yourself.”

  “That’s pretty funny, Max, because I think I just asked you to go out with him, with me, and you said no. Which is it?” I was still doing everything I could to keep my tone light and be as jovial as I could, but I was just as certain that this was a conversation that we needed to have.

  “What time and where are we going?”

  “I’m not sure, I didn’t get that far. Do you want to call him or should I?”

  Max picked up the phone, “What’s his number?” When Seth got on the phone, Max’s voice turned hard, “Seth, this is Max. Lauren mentioned that we have an engagement with you and a reporter this evening. Where are we meeting? . . . Okay, what time? . . . I can hardly wait, we’ll see you then.” Max hung up, “Just what I always wanted, to spend the evening with your old boyfriend. I should go buy a lottery ticket; this is my lucky day.”

  “Oh, don’t be like that. It isn’t so bad.”

  “You don’t get it, do you? Every time I’ve seen Seth within ten feet of you, it’s never looked like two pals. Watching him in bed with you in the hospital, him thanking me for his future when you were being discharged, twirling you around in your front yard the day I came to spend with you?”

  “I get it, but that was months ago.”

  “I’ve never been jealous of anything or anyone in my entire life – maybe because I never had anything worth losing. The last thing I want is for you to be anywhere near him when it’s so clear to everyone around you how he feels about you, and you’re oblivious to it!”

  In a clinical, emotion-free voice, “One, he wasn’t in bed with me in the hospital: he was concerned about me and his feelings for me got confused. Two, he was an ass to you during my discharge, but only because he knows me so well, and realized in that moment he had lost me. Three, that day that you saw him twirl me in the yard was a fluke. Had you waited thirty seconds or opened your door and said ‘Hi,’ I probably would have knocked myself out trying to sprint over to you.” I grabbed Max with both arms and pulled him to me. I’m not certain whether my stinging words, my ferocious kiss, or the desire welling up in my eyes convinced him, but our argument was over.

  Chapter Seventeen

  We pulled up in front of Bella Nepal after our silent commute. Max handed the valet his keys and walked around to my side of the truck to get my door. As he helped me down from the truck, my hand remained intertwined with his. I couldn’t help but think this was one tiny stab he had for Seth, walking into the restaurant with my hand in his.

  The food was Italian, and the fragrance of the place was amazing from the moment we opened the door: a sweet tomato, garlic and basil scent. Amanda and Seth were at a table in the far back corner. When they saw us, both looked up and waved us to them. Introductions were easy, since Max and Amanda were the only two who hadn’t met yet.

  Amanda nearly glowed, and I guessed that this might be her first real interview. After the waiter had taken our order and brought drinks, Amanda started, “Seth told me you really don’t want to be interviewed and you’re only doing this as a favor to him, so I had to swear that I wouldn’t ask you anything that you weren’t okay with. Rather than take the chance of falling out of Seth’s good graces,” she paused and glanced in Seth’s direction, “I typed up fifteen questions. You can strike through any five that you don’t want to answer, and I won’t bat an eye. Or if there is a question you think others may want the answer for that isn’t on the list, I’m okay with ad-libbing as well.” She had a genuine sincerity to her. If the circumstance of our dinner were not a precursor to an interview, she and I would’ve hit it off naturally.

  “Well, thanks, I’ve never actually been interviewed for anything before, so hopefully I won’t come off like the village idiot.” We all laughed together.

  Conversation throughout dinner remained easy among Seth, Amanda and me; Max stayed quiet for the most part, only participating if one of us asked him a direct question. After dinner was over, I was surprised when Seth said, “Hey, Max, you feel like stepping outside for a minute for some air? Lauren and Amanda can chat about the interview.”

  Max must have sensed my sudden tension, because he reached under the table and put his hand on my knee and gave it a gentle squ
eeze. “Okay, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to walk around for a minute before dessert.” The two got up before I had the chance to protest.

  Amanda was oblivious to my concern and handed me the sheet of paper she had mentioned earlier. All fifteen questions seemed benign, none giving me any reason for alarm. I handed the sheet back to her and told her that I didn’t have objections to any of them. After retrieving the paper, “Off the record, can I ask you a question?”

  “Okay, but I may not answer it.”

  “I know you and Seth were an item up until the shooting. What happened with the two of you? Are you just taking a break from each other?” Her question threw me off guard briefly, but I recovered quickly, since her question had nothing to do with our interview. I wondered if she got this impression from Seth? Maybe that’s what he thought? A breather - as if at some point we would pick back up. If I couldn’t make him understand, I knew I could make it clear to Amanda.

  “No, it’s not a breather. Some people, no matter how hard they try, are never meant to be more intimate than friends. I love Seth with my whole heart, and nothing will ever change that, but my love for him will never grow into a romantic connection. I wrongly tried to fit the square peg in a round hole for years. After the shooting, the only thing that changed was the realization that we weren’t compatible that way.”

  “So that look I see on Seth when he talks about you?” Amanda looked to the table when she asked this question, maybe out of embarrassment? Maybe concerned about my answer?

  “Seth had a hard time accepting it at first, but it’s been months. I think he’s ready to invite someone new into his heart. This is the first time Seth and Max have been alone together, and assuming they both come back from their walk in one piece, I’ll know he’s ready.”

  Her seriousness disappeared when she asked, “So, Max is a real hottie. How’d that happen?”

  It felt strange to be so open with a near stranger. “He was the paramedic who treated me at the restaurant.”

  “Yeah, but there’s got to be a story there. Near death experience, right?”

  “Max is amazing. He’s got a heart the size of a Volkswagen. He’s had his share of tragedy in his life – but doesn’t wear it on his sleeve, you know? He’s got a weird way of showing it – but I know he cares for me a lot.”

  “What do you mean a weird way?”

  “You know I broke it off with Seth after the shooting, right?” Amanda nodded that she knew this much. “I wanted to start seeing Max right away, but he wanted to give me a chance to change my mind about Seth, maybe to get over him. He took a job out of state for a few months. At the time I was really pissed, but looking back I think it kept me from feeling guilty about what I’d done to Seth. It kept me from flaunting Max in front of him and making the whole situation worse. Weird right?”

  “So you and Seth never tried to reconcile?”

  “Square peg in a round hole: you don’t have to keep trying to know it won’t fit.”

  Turning over my response in her mind, she opted to abandon the subject entirely. Amanda looked at the sheet of paper and said the camera crew would be set up at 7:00 in a private room upstairs. “I really appreciate you giving me an interview. My boss was ecstatic when I called and told him this morning. He’s going to be in the room just to make sure I don’t blow it. Outside of journalism school, I’ve never actually interviewed anybody.”

  I was right. “So when did you graduate?”

  “Well, I haven’t graduated yet. I’m a summer intern at the station. This fall I’ll begin my senior year.”

  “So you’re a year younger than I am?”

  “I graduated high school at seventeen, so I’m only twenty now.” This made me feel much better, like we were somehow on a much more level playing field.

  I felt hands on my shoulder and looked up to see Max standing behind me. I smiled and he leaned into my ear and whispered, “I’m glad we came.”

  I sat back in my seat and picked up the dessert menu. The curiosity of what the two had discussed was nearly unbearable. Not wanting the direction our evening was going to revert, I kept my curiosity to myself. The four of us all ordered dessert, and conversation that had been limited to three was suddenly easy among the four of us. When the check came, Amanda took the bill, “This one’s on my boss.”

  As we stood up from the table, Seth announced, “We’re going to let you two do your thing while Max and I take a walk. Give us a call when the interview’s done.” I couldn’t help but give a grateful smile, because they both knew how much I was dreading the next fifteen minutes, and neither wanted to add to my anxiety.

  Once we got upstairs, I was outfitted with a small microphone while a guy named Alex was adjusting lighting above two overstuffed chairs. He had a monitor pointing toward us that let us see how we looked on camera. Amanda and I both did a quick once over, and we were ready. Her boss was a friendly older gentleman. He must have sensed that we were both nervous and gave us a few words of encouragement before he took a seat behind the camera.

  Amanda looked directly into the camera and introduced both herself and me to the viewers and began, “Lauren, three months ago you single-handedly foiled a robbery attempt at the Tasty Burger on Main. How have you been since then?”

  “I’ve been good. This is my senior year of college, so most of my time has been much more focused on getting through my classes and graduating, rather than on the robbery.”

  “During that robbery you were shot in the leg. Have you had any problems, or are you back to one hundred percent?”

  “The pins come out at the six month mark, the rod they put in will be there forever, but I can walk okay without crutches. I can’t run a marathon or anything yet, but for the most part, things are back to normal. The bullet did a lot of damage, and the doctors told me it may take up to six months to recover, so I was thrilled when I was healed enough to be crutch-less after just three months.”

  “Have you gone back to work yet, or are there too many memories to face at Tasty Burger?”

  “Actually, I’ve talked to my manager about getting my job back after graduation in a couple weeks. It wouldn’t have been possible to work with crutches, so up until now, it really wasn’t an option. I’m not scared to go back or anything. Everyone made a much bigger deal of the event than it actually was.”

  “That’s really humble of you. One question has been on everyone’s mind since news broke of your heroic actions. It is my understanding that you were suspicious of the shooter before he made his way to the counter. You were so suspicious that you convinced a coworker to go inventory the freezer for her safety. When the shooter became agitated, you jumped over a counter to stand in front of a child. Is that really how it happened?”

  “When you say it like that it sounds like something out of an action movie. Everything happened so fast that I just reacted to the situation; I didn’t exactly have a plan.”

  “If you had it to do over again, what would you do differently?”

  “I would’ve made sure I gave the child a boy toy instead of a girl toy with his meal.” I could see confusion on her face and realized she probably didn’t know about this and figured I’d better explain so I didn’t cause her to go off script. “The customer in front of the robber was a mom with a young son. I was distracted by the suspicious man when I assembled the little boy’s meal and put in a girl’s toy by mistake. Unfortunately, the little guy came back to the counter and interrupted the robber. Maybe the robber would have just taken the food and money and run, but he was upset that I was trying to appease the child and ignoring him.” Amanda snickered under her breath. This was something she had not been aware of.

  “Have you had any contact with others that were in the restaurant that evening?”

  “The people I worked with have all called and e-mailed, and the little boy’s mother sent me a wonderful card. In all, I received nearly three hundred cards and letters during my recovery. I was grateful that people went out of thei
r way to acknowledge my actions; some of the notes were very moving.

  “In addition to the shooting three months ago, I’ve been told that yesterday you helped apprehend an accused murderer. How did that happen?”

  “I didn’t actually help apprehend or anything. I was at the mall with my friend Rachael and I was concerned about a person she was talking with, so I phoned the police.”

  “Suspicious how?” This wasn’t one of Amanda’s questions, and I was not prepared to answer this one.

  I paused a few seconds longer than I should have and could see that Amanda was more closely carrying on a conversation with me than she was actually reading from her script. Her face looked apologetic for throwing me a curve ball. “He was my age and was driving a really nice car, and I just felt something wasn’t right.” Oh crap, that was the wrong answer. Now everyone would think I am psychic or something. I followed quickly with, “You know how sometimes people for no reason make you nervous? This guy made me nervous.” That sounded better, but I was now wishing the interview was over. How many questions had it been?

  I could tell this response tempted her to dig deeper. I was hoping she would stick to the script. “When did you find out he was a murder suspect?” Thank goodness, she was back on track, and, if I remember right, this one was near the end.

  “After several police cars came to the parking lot.”

  “How would you describe yourself, lucky or unlucky given these two events?”

  “I would say I am very lucky. The robbery could have gone very badly, but given the circumstances it went remarkably well. The incident at the mall, I’m not certain my friend and I were in any real danger, so I wouldn’t classify that one as lucky or unlucky.”

  “The suspected murderer, you don’t believe he was dangerous?” My response had waylaid Amanda.

  Trying to smooth over my answer, “Innocent until proven guilty right? He didn’t have a weapon and wasn’t threatening my friend or me. He just happened to be in a car that was assumed stolen. I’d rather wait and hear the facts before I jump to any conclusions.”