“No, the phone went off and I saw what it said.”
“You shouldn’t have touched it, Evan.” They stayed silent as she looked down and read her message.
“Grace, he’s saying he needs an answer about the memoir. You told me publishers didn’t want it.” He kept his eyes on her and then scratched his jaw, shaking his head in disappointment. “You lied to me.”
Warning flashed in her eyes as she lifted her head. “I didn’t lie, Evan. I got the offer a few days after I talked to you.”
“That was in December. Why didn’t you tell me? And he says they’re offering more money. What’s going on?” He sat forward, his forearms resting on his knees as he awaited an explanation.
“I told you I wasn’t sure I wanted to publish.” She walked away from him, attempting to clean the top of her dresser and refusing to glance his way. He was already taking it as a sign that she wasn’t up for discussing more with him.
“How much are they proposing?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. What did they offer?”
She barely moved her head to look at him through the mirror. “A lot.”
“And you haven’t said yes?” He laughed out of shock as he got out of bed and moved to her. “Grace, this is it for you. This is exciting!”
“I told you I’m not sure I’m publishing.”
“Why?”
“It’s too personal.”
He stared down at her as she busied herself. “Look at me, Grace.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“We have to.”
“Can we not?”
“I think you’re making a big mistake. You’re afraid of your parents, of what they’ll say, of what others will think about your story, but nothing ever came of playing it safe, babe.”
She made a face and dismissed him, trying to pull down the emotions that were hitting her. “That has nothing to do with it.”
He grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. “Look at me, Gracie. It has everything to do with it.”
She shoved him away defensively. “You’re one to talk, Matthews.”
“What?”
“You’re a hypocrite. Let’s analyze you for a change. You haven’t said yes to the John Whitford project. Why?”
“Gracie—”
“No. You’re terrified that you might tank in his blockbuster. Or is it that you’ll get more critical acclaim than you want? Which is it, Evan?”
“That’s not what this is—”
“Isn’t it? Why aren’t you taking the role? You’re stalling on what could be the biggest move of your career. Why?”
He stayed silent, looking at her directly. His jaw ticked as he finally tilted his head toward her. “I said yes to it.” He clasped her face in his hands as she froze. “Mike was trying to get more money, despite me not giving a flying fuck over a few million more. Sometimes Hollywood deals take a while, princess.”
She wriggled away from him and moved toward her bed, annoyance flaring. “Well, aren’t you just Mr. I’m-so-perfect-I-always-do-the-right-thing Matthews?” She rearranged her pillows and crawled in sinking down on the mattress.
“We’re not done talking, baby. You need to figure this shit out.”
Grace growled at him and sat back up. “Why, Evan? What do you want me to tell you? That I’m frightened? Fine, I admit it. I am.” Her voice shook as it filled the room. “My parents already hate me as it is. The guilt I feel is still so overwhelming at times, I feel like I can’t breathe. They’re going to be able to read and relive every single detail about it, and know exactly what was going on in my head the moment their precious boy died. What he looked like, what he felt like in my arms, the shit I went through afterwards. The spiraling depression and fear and anger and hurt and blame, and how they abandoned me. I was so alone and I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. How could I inflict that on them? It’s just more pain and suffering to add to their lives, and to put it out into the world and let others know it’s there, in public, for anyone to read isn’t fair to them.”
He sat near her, gathering her in his arms as she tried holding back her tears. “They didn’t abandon you, Grace. Your mom still tries to talk to you. I’m sure it would be difficult for them to read, but it’ll also give them an insight to your life.”
“Please, I can’t, Evan. Don’t make me face it. I can’t face them.”
He braced her head and tilted it up. “Do you want to tell your story, Grace? Yes or no?”
She sniffled and closed her eyes, avoiding tears. “I don’t kn—”
“Yes or no, Grace?”
“I can’t.”
“Grace, don’t hold back from your chance at success, baby,” he whispered in her hair as she tucked herself against his chest. He cradled her to him, his heart breaking for her. He wanted so desperately to fix things for her, make it better. If only he could find a way.
Damn treadmill. Grace puffed as the speed picked up. The Golden Globes were fast approaching, and she had decided to attend. She just hadn’t told Evan yet.
Of course, completely last minute, Grace figured she would exercise. A few pounds lost would do some good, especially around her derriere. Evan wasn’t too happy when she talked about losing weight, and he adamantly showed her how much he loved her body the way it was. She liked when he did that, plus he was a total ass-man.
Her ponytail bobbed in the air and she kept her eyes focused on him. He was right all those months ago when he said she would appreciate him even more when he was naked. She did, but he also looked pretty damn good working out in front of her. Evan heaved weights up in his arms as he worked on the art that was his body. He was damn sexy.
Grace panted, her heart beat strong, but along with that, her body throbbed in want of him as she watched his wonderful form lift two times the amount that she weighed. She loved when he became Neanderthal on her, taking charge and being all virile. It was exactly what she had craved in a man.
She smiled as he winked her way. The girl on the machine next to her giggled and waved. Not for you, but nice try. Grace wasn’t usually a jealous type, but felt irked by the pretty woman who stuck her chest out and gave her boyfriend the fuck me eyes.
Evan walked over and stood in between her and the other girl’s treadmill. The pretty brunette slowed her machine and said hi to him, and he nodded to her then leaned toward Grace, speaking to only her. “So, I saw you across the room and thought to myself, I need to meet that woman.”
She wanted to laugh as she grabbed her towel and wiped her sweat. “Did you now? What made you think that?”
“Your gorgeous ass.”
Yep, total ass-man. The girl beside them gasped and Grace grinned. She stopped her machine and caught her breath. “You can’t even see my ass.”
“Well, I saw it earlier, and I think we’re meant to be. Wanna go to the Golden Globes with me next week?”
“I would, but I’m washing my hair.”
He grabbed her hand as she climbed down and he tugged her to him. She felt giddy as his mouth grazed over hers. “What can I do to convince you to go?”
She lifted her brow and whispered, “Sex. Lots and lots of it.”
He chuckled as he kissed her lips once, then twice, and then again. “Let’s get out of here, so we can get started on changing your mind then.”
Grace move back to the treadmill to grab her things and saw pretty brunette staring at both of them with her eyes wide. Pride surged through her as she held herself up and thought, “This man is mine, and he loves me.” She was certainly a lucky girl.
After a wonderful round of lovemaking, and telling Evan she had decided to attend the awards show with him, he left for filming. Grace worked on necessary duties for the day. One of the house’s garbage disposal had stopped working. She had to make the proper phone calls, went over to see the neighbors, and started on paperwork. On top of that, the lawn maintenance crew hadn’t shown up, and she had to call, telling them sh
e would have to find a different company if they didn’t adhere to their scheduled appointment.
After a full day of dealing with property work issues, she finally was able to sit down at her computer. She grabbed her phone when the chime went off. She read it, setting it aside, wanting to ignore her mother’s frequent texts over the past few days.
Nancy: Grace, I would like to speak with you. Can I call?
Grace grimaced at the thought of having to actually talk to her mother. She couldn’t remember the last time she heard her voice. Christmas and birthday cards were sent, but they got into their affable texting routine. What would they even begin to talk about? The weather?
Grace: Maybe tomorrow.
That should appease her mother for a bit. Before she knew it, the evening had arrived and Evan walked in looking drained. Grace set her work aside and greeted him, leading him over to the kitchen as she began to fix his regimented meal. Evan had a guide he kept nearby from his nutritionist, and Grace helped him out when she could. She had taken initiative tonight and cooked the simple meal.
“How’d filming go today?”
Evan sighed as he opened her bottle of Glenfiddich and served them both a glass. “It was tough. Physically, mentally. I sometimes want to just rip that costume to shreds.”
Grace chuckled. “Well, you’re almost at the finish line. Only a few more months and it’s over forever.”
“I can’t wait.”
“You still love it.”
“I do. We’ve been training for the big water scene. So it’s been all day spent swimming in this large tank. It’s fun, but exhausting.” She watched as he gulped the golden liquid, sure it would help warm his bones. He viewed his plate as she served it. “I can do that, you know.”
“I don’t mind.” She kept her eyes on the food she’d fixed and smiled to herself, loving the idea of life with him. She could do it all forever if he wanted. “I never considered myself one to enjoy making meals for my man…but I’ve never had a man to make meals for, so it’s all new to me.”
He kissed her with affection and moved to the table, letting his aching body stretch out. “How’s the writing going?”
“It’s going. I’ve been preoccupied,” she glanced at him with a wicked glare, “thinking about sex with you. It really does take over the brain, doesn’t it?”
“You have no idea.” He pulled her to him and kissed her temple as she set his plate down. “I actually need to talk to you about something, Gracie.”
Her phone sounded and she glanced at the screen. “God, what is her deal?” She texted a response, her fingers flying over her phone.
“What?” Evan began to eat his plain chicken breast, rice and broccoli. He looked edgy as he stared at her. “What is it?”
Grace shook her head, her eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. “My mom keeps texting me. She wants to talk. Like on the phone. We haven’t spoken in God knows how long and she wants to now.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and grabbed his drink, swigging it again. He was restless as he played with his food. “I actually wanted to talk to you about your parents, Grace.”
“Can we not? Every time we talk about them it turns into an argument.”
“It’s not an argument, we hardly discuss it.” He lowered his frustrated voice and made it sound soothing. “If you sit down, maybe we can calmly talk about the issues.”
“Why do you feel the need to analyze this, Evan?” Grace grabbed her glass of whiskey, downing it and gasping as it burned her throat. “Let’s just drink and make love all night.”
She moved to pour whiskey for him, but he stopped her. “I really want to talk to you, Grace. And I don’t want you getting defensive before we really discuss it.”
“Discuss what?” She took one more gulp, finishing what she poured and sat down next to him.
“I sent your parents the memoir.”
Grace halted, her eyes widening in the realization of what he was telling her. The pit in her stomach began to grow, moving up and around and taking over her senses. “What did you do?”
“I thought it would be a good idea for them to read it.” He reached his hand out to touch hers, but she recoiled. Betrayal pierced her heart. Evan sent her private thoughts to the people who had abandoned her and let her down. “Gracie, I did this for you.”
She stayed silent. A wave of nausea took over. She felt ill, as the world around her spun and made her dizzy. It was as if the rug had been out pulled from under her feet, but she regained control. Hurt poured through her shaky voice. “How could you?”
He tried grabbing her hand again, but she flinched at his touch. His skin was no longer a comfort to her, but a danger. Evan was a traitor. He betrayed her, using her own words against her. He began to shift in his chair, unable to withstand her silence and anger she exuded.
“Say something, Gracie. Talk to me.”
Refusal to glance his way only made the tension in the air thicken. She got up, the wooden legs of the chair scratching the floor in a loud scrape that echoed the room. Tears threatened to fall, but she wouldn’t let them. Instead her cold, empty brown eyes set on his fretful blue ones. Only two words exited her mouth in a composed whisper. “Get out.”
“What?” He jerked up from his chair and moved toward her, which only made her withdraw. “Grace, come on. I did this to help you. Your parents would have eventually read it, and I just saved you the hassle of telling them. I gave the push you needed.”
“Leave. Now.” Her voice was low as she turned away from him.
He shook his head in defiance. “No. I’m not leaving you. Them reading this will help, Grace. Trust me.”
The only way of getting away from him was for her to leave, and if that’s what it took, that’s what she would do. Marla. She would go there. Her body mechanically moved, but her mind was in a fog. She could only process, keys, purse, phone. Keys. Purse. Phone. It kept repeating in her head, lest she forget.
“Where are you going?” He followed her around the house as her breathing stayed steady. “It was for your own good, sweetheart. You’re holding yourself back. Please, say something.”
Grace reached for the exit of her own house, shrugging his arm off of her shoulder. He trailed behind her as she tried getting in her car, her shaky hand fumbling over the lock and finally opening the door. He slammed it shut, enclosing her between his arms. His forehead touched her shoulder. “Grace, don’t go. Please.”
“Move.” Her voice was fixed and completely closed off.
“Don’t do this. Talk to me.”
“Move, Evan.”
“No. Why can’t you face this? What’s the big deal? If they read it, they’ll see your point of view.” Silence. “You have to get over this, let the fear go.” He waited for her to say something, but she couldn’t. The fury was taking root inside of her. She was unable to stop herself from saying something she would later regret.
Cold eyes met his as she turned back to look at him. “You’re just like Kyle.”
His body straightened up, his breath caught, and his voice became brusque. “I can’t believe you just compared me to that asshole.” He clasped her shoulders and turned her around, but she refused to look at him. “I didn’t fuck you and leave you, Grace. You’re being irrational right now. I’m going to forgive your idiotic accusation, and I don’t ever want to hear you say something that ugly to me again.”
Her eyes set on his, the vehemence in them unable to be held back. “You both betrayed me. What’s the difference?” It was beyond words, beyond yelling, beyond giving him a piece of her mind.
He backed away from the glare, knowing he wasn’t going to win. There was no way he would. “Grace…please. I won’t give up on you.”
She turned away again, got in her car, and hauled out of the driveway as quickly as she could. There would be no looking back now, knowing the one man she had given her whole self to, had trusted in, had been exactly who she thought he’d be. The one to leave her
broken and hurting.
He had fucked up. Big time. Evan paced in Grace’s living room, running his hands through his hair and deliberating how he would ever fix the wreckage he had just caused. The act of what he did was meant from a good place. He truly thought he’d help get Grace over the nerves of sending the damn manuscript to her parents by doing it for her.
His worry level increased as he looked at the bottle of whiskey. He fought the urge to drown the feelings of inadequacy with liquor. Where had she gone? When would she get back? Would she be okay to drive? He clutched his phone tightly in his hand and stared at the screen.
He studied her picture in his contacts and pressed the call button. It jumped to her voicemail and he shakily spoke, “Grace, please, let me know that you’re okay, wherever you go.” He paused to swallow the lump of fear stuck in his throat. “You can’t just not talk to me.”
He hung up tried sitting down. Was she done with him? He wouldn’t let her throw away what they had, not without talking to him. Even if she did try to justify breaking up with him, he wouldn’t let her. No way in hell. He had waited too long for a woman like her, and she belonged with him. Without her he had nothing, her love absorbed it all.
He called again, then texted, then called. The clock on the wall crawled at a snail’s pace, the quiet of the house making the pit in his stomach cramp. His food had been left uneaten, the remnants of it left on the kitchen table. And her scent. The smell of strawberries lingered in the air, on the cushions of the couch, in his running mind, and through his heart.
There wasn’t much else he could do in the way of waiting. The headache he sported squeezed on his temples, but his appetite was non-existent. He wanted her back. He needed her back. She had to talk to him, yell at him, and tell him how badly he had messed up. But silence was the worst thing he could endure.
“I can’t believe it. Fucking asshole,” Grace sniffled. As soon as Grace had arrived at her friend’s home, she poured everything out in a rage. After calming herself, Marla brought out the scotch, tissues, and chocolate. Grace snatched a tissue, wiping her nose, but she had barely cried.
A Promise Kept Page 22
