“Don’t think. Just feel.”
Epilogue
“So we were all at Gracie’s for dinner when the doorbell rings,” Lauren recounted the following Monday morning.
Across from her sat her boss and local father figure, George Anderson. By now, he’d grown accustomed to the daily conversations they had in the mornings prior to the rest of the bank staff trudging into work. He’d been there for all of the drama since she’d settled in Fort Wayne: her burgeoning attraction to Matthew, her breakup with Eric, the engagement, the pregnancy, Blake’s reunion with Chris, Gracie’s new job and her own similar move up north. Things had been a little boring now that everyone seemed to have gotten their lives sorted; not that there was anything wrong with endless baby stories, but quite obviously he found this new yarn more promising.
“And?” He raised his coffee cup to take a drink.
“And Will’s on the other side.”
“Will Delaney? The cop that was in your wedding?”
Lauren nodded. “Yeah, him. Turns out that he and Gracie hooked up right before Blake and Chris got married. And they had a sort of friends with benefits arrangement going on for a while. But things were odd, given his divorce, his sixteen year old daughter, and their eleven year age difference.”
“Which means that Gracie’s closer in age to Will’s child than she is to Will himself.”
“Exactly. A stumbling block, but it appears to have been more on his side than hers. Apparently, he fed Gracie a line about still being in love with his ex, and it pissed her off.”
“Rightfully so.”
“And she walked out on him. And kept all of us in the dark.”
“Until now?”
“Until now. Well, she told my dad and she ended up telling Matthew just a few days ago, but yeah, she was pretty quiet about it.”
Lauren’s hazel eyes betrayed her nonchalant remark. George provided her the benefit of the doubt and remained silent himself. She didn’t need him to remind her that her relationship with her best friend had twisted and turned until it looked nothing like what she was familiar with.
“Anyway, he stalks in and she’s all like ‘What are you doing here?’ And he launches into quite possibly the second most beautiful monologue ever about how he is crazy about her and how he thinks about her all of the time.”
“Second place to Matthew’s Thanksgiving proposal?” George teased.
“You got it.”
She raised her own coffee cup, closing her eyes and settling back in her seat as she relived the memory. Seconds later, she was back in the present day, ready to spill.
“And he tells her that he loves her. Gracie cries.”
“Gracie cried? She never cries.”
“I know, right? Anyway, he freaks out and turns tail and runs. Slams the door behind him and is just gone. Leaving all of us to stare in collective shock. Except for Matthew, who already knew all of this.”
“Okay,” George prompted.
“Matthew’s been beside Gracie on the couch during the whole thing, holding her hand. I was clear across the room, but I could tell then that he was the only one who knew anything at all. The rest of us were just dumbfounded, Gracie included. Turns out, as Matthew told me later, that Blake was trying to set Will up with Gracie and the whole dinner party was staged to get them together. He clued Will in and told him not to accept Blake’s invitation. Blake called in Bachelor Number Two to take his place, but Matthew told her in no uncertain terms not to go through with that plan, either. Fortunately, that guy got the message, because if he would have shown up when Will was there pouring out his heart, things might have gotten ugly.”
“So what happened next?”
“Gracie took off after Will in Chris’s car. I’m assuming that things went well between them, because as of this morning, Blake drove Gracie’s Lexus to work. Nobody’s seen hide nor hair of them all weekend.”
“And though you’re all dying to know the latest gossip, you’re giving them space?”
“Yep.”
“It’s killing you, isn’t it?”
“Kind of,” she admitted. “I’m going to text her at lunch. Maybe sooner. I figure no news is good news.”
“You’re probably right. And I admire your self-restraint. It sounds like the two of them appreciate their privacy.”
“But it’s so much more fun for everyone else when their dirty laundry is out in the open.”
“Very true.”
“So that was my weekend, living vicariously through the limited people that aren’t married or have kids. Speaking of that, Blake and Chris are now trying for a baby.”
“That’s great news.”
“If it was with someone other than Chris, it would be better. It’s bad enough that we’re already related by marriage. Now adding kids into the mix, it’ll be closer to blood than ever.”
“Maybe time to bury the hatchet?”
“Never.”
Lauren’s desk phone rang, bringing them back to reality and the fact that normal working hours were soon to commence. She stared at it, frowning, before picking it up with a reluctant sigh.
“This is Lauren. May I help you?”
“Lauren Jefferies?” the voice on the other end asked.
Lauren was about to correct the lady when the caller amended her question. “Lauren Jefferies? Snyder?” Said just like that, with an abrupt pause between her maiden and married names.
“This is she,” Lauren confirmed.
George perked up, instantly attuned to the conversation and going into protective mode. Ever since he’d discounted her theory concerning the stalker intern at work, laughing it off until it had become clearly more sinister, he’d been repenting by taking her gut feelings seriously. The whole woman’s intuition thing trumped anything that reason could explain away. And the tone of Lauren’s voice suggested that something was definitely amiss.
She shook her head, mouthing “it’s a woman”, then lifting the index finger of her free hand to the side of her head and twirling it in the universal symbol for “crazy”. George smirked, glad that around him she’d been able to remove her filter. After all, he wasn’t the stodgy buttoned up old man that his title of VP hinted at.
“You’ve never met me before Lauren,” the woman continued.
Lauren rolled her eyes and stifled a yawn, much for George’s benefit. But her expression changed drastically upon the next exchange, and the temperature in the room quite possibly dropped twenty degrees.
“Even so, you might have heard quite a bit about me. This is Patricia Barrett Snyder, and I’m technically your mother-in-law.”
Acknowledgments
Four books in and it’s still not any easier when I get to the end. It’s so much simpler to write about the world that I’ve created rather than to focus on the one that’s reality. But here we go…
As always, to my husband and daughters for understanding (or pretending to) that this compulsion of mine actually makes some other people happy. For giving me the least amount of grief possible when I speak all author-like at times and pretending that I sound like I know what I’m doing. For allowing me to take this dream and run with it, not knowing where it will lead us. I, for one, am excited for the future and can’t wait to see what it holds. I love you.
To JoEllen, the best beta reader in the entire world. The one person that I trust to read the first version of each installment as soon as it’s done and merely spell-checked. You get the goods before I’ve even looked them over. Sometimes I’m appalled at what I send you. Yet you still think that I’m amazing. Sometimes I think you are as close to these characters as I am. And you certainly get the inside jokes.
To Todd, who for some reason is so impressed by the fact that I’m an author that he wants to tell everyone about it, even if they could care less. Considering all that you’ve built, the mere thought that you respect this venture of mine is overwhelming. Now please stop giving me scenarios to include in my books: the sumo wrestler
outfit, the helium balloon machine, the orange sweater, the candy G-string. I don’t write that kind of stuff, and now you’ve made it into one of my books anyway.
To the most vocal Gracie fan out there, who will remain nameless to protect his identity, but likely knows who he is. I hope that I didn’t disappoint. And yes, you got what you wanted.
To all of the wonderful bloggers out there who have embraced this series and made me feel like I was doing readers a service by bringing these characters to life. I appreciate what you do for me personally and for authors everywhere. You guys rock.
To the die-hard Intoxicated fans who binge read my series, talk it up to their friends, make teasers for me and post them to social media - you make me feel like a celebrity when really I’m just one of you. Albeit wordier. You make my day with your kind words and your support.
To the readers past, present and future: thank you for taking a chance on me and reading this far.
About the Author
Alicia Renee Kline resides in Northeastern Indiana with her husband and two daughters. She swears that sea salt and vinegar potato chips and Vanilla Coke fuel her creativity. When she’s not sitting at her laptop dreaming up drama for the characters in her head, she works full time in the insurance industry. She’s also an avid reader, enjoying a little bit of everything but usually opting for something in the romance, chick lit or mystery genres.
To learn more about Alicia and her characters, or to get your ebooks signed by the author, check out her website at aliciareneekline.com. If you’re feeling really adventurous, follow her on Twitter at @readaliciarenee, like her Facebook fan page, or hook up with her on Tsu or Google Plus. She loves to connect with her readers and welcomes your comments and questions.
If you enjoyed this book, please consider posting a review to help others find it, too. Word of mouth is the best compliment that you can give an author.
Titles by Alicia Renee Kline
The Intoxicated Books
Intoxicated
Shattered
Designed
Changed
Silenced (coming soon)
This is how it all ends…..
A sneak peek of Silenced….
Lauren
There wasn’t much in life that could throw me any more. Maybe it came with the territory. Over the past few years, my life had spiraled into a completely different direction than I’d ever imagined. But here I was, a living, breathing, character in a soap opera that I commonly referred to as my existence.
The love of my life was a convicted felon. His crime? None other than multiple drunk driving charges, which tied in rather ironically with the fact that my mother had been killed in a car accident caused by someone who’d been guilty of the same thing.
My sister-in-law, also known as my former roommate and the first real friend I’d had in Fort Wayne, hadn’t exactly picked an easy road to travel, either. Though things were looking up for her now, she’d experienced her share of heartache and tragedy. Only some of these at the hands of her brother. She and her now-husband, Chris, had loved and lost for the better part of a twenty year history. She loved him. He loved her. I tolerated him. And for what it was worth, his feeling in my direction was mutual at best. Most days it bordered on intense dislike.
See, Chris was my husband’s best friend, and he held a grudge like no other towards me. Yes, I was culpable for stringing Matthew along for more time than necessary while I sorted out my business with my ex-boyfriend, but still. Blake had kept the secret of miscarrying their child from him for an entire decade and he had forgiven her in two weeks flat. Years later, I was still big, bad Lauren.
And then there was Gracie. My best friend from Indianapolis, she had followed me up north after Blake hired her. She’d just come clean about sleeping with another one of our group’s collective acquaintances, Will. Turns out, they’d progressed beyond the friends with benefits thing and declared their love for one another. Or at least that’s what I’d assumed happened. I’d witnessed Will’s declaration; she’d taken off after him and I hadn’t heard back from her yet. That had been Friday. It was now Monday.
So that pretty much summed up my state of mind. Eager and willing to accept what life tossed at me. Ready at a moment’s notice to change my course of direction and move along with the tide.
Except for this.
Which was why my mouth opened and closed like a fish, the receiver of my work phone clutched in a white-knuckled hand as my boss stared at me from the opposite side of my desk. And Mrs. Patricia Barrett Snyder waited on the other end of the line for my response.
My mother-in-law. By name only. I’d never met the woman, though I’d firmly declared my hatred of her. Anyone who could cut off ties to Matthew and Blake for the past ten plus years didn’t deserve the benefit of my doubt, no matter what legalities said.
“Lauren?” Her crisp, decidedly upper middle class voice broke through my haze.
“Yes, I’m still here,” I said quickly.
I sunk deeper into my office chair, wishing I could roll away and abandon this call. George regarded me with visible concern etched over his features. He made a move to get up from his seat and allow me privacy, but I shook my head. I wanted him here. Even if he was a bank Vice President and my immediate supervisor, he was also my local father figure. He caught my drift, but still stood. He made the trek to the threshold of my office, closing the door to the room and securing us both inside. Then he returned, his eyes focused intently on me as he tried to prepare for the fallout of whatever new drama was unfolding.
“I know that my calling comes as a surprise,” Patricia continued.
Should I even call her that? Was she Patricia to me? I doubted she’d go by something as laid back as Trish. Maybe to me she was Mrs. Snyder. Mrs. Barrett Snyder?
I failed at concealing the snort that preceded my agreement. I didn’t really care. “You could say that,” I allowed.
“I realize that you may have some perceptions of me that may or may not be warranted,” she continued.
This time, I bit my tongue to refrain from providing commentary.
“At any rate, I’ve come to the conclusion that my absence in Matthew and Blake’s life could have been ill-advised.”
“Could have been?”
My inner filter turned completely off and I flew into mother hen mode. Matthew and Blake were my family now. I would defend them to the death if I had to. She had disposed of them as quickly and neatly as one discards a dirty napkin. If there was ever a battle of loyalties, clearly I would come out on top. And I wasn’t about to go soft on her under the pretense of common courtesy.
She didn’t deserve it.
Which didn’t mean that I wasn’t intrigued.
My accusation met with silence, I pressed for more details. “So why now? Why open the lines of communication after all this time? And why through me? Do I appear to be the weakest link?”
“Now, Lauren,” she admonished, “I would never imply that. You seem to have done well for yourself. I can only imagine how hard you’ve had to work to get where you are in your own career. I’m not inferring that you’re like the other women that my son used to entertain. In fact, you’ve appeared to whip him into shape, so to speak.”
I didn’t doubt that she’d done some background research on me prior to placing the call. Though Matthew and I didn’t live conspicuously, it was nearly impossible in this day and age to exist entirely under the radar. She knew we were married, even though we’d not publicized that fact. She’d likely seen our daughter’s birth announcement in the paper, placed by an elated and quite possibly vindictive Blake. She’d found me at work, though that wasn’t hard. My name was plastered on the bank’s website as head of the mortgage underwriting department. A quick internet search could have told her all that.
“Matthew didn’t need coddling to become the person he is today,” I said with conviction. “He only needed someone who believed in him. Maybe if you had attempted something
resembling support you could have seen that. But instead, you chose to turn a blind eye and you’re still paying for that decision.”
She said nothing. Perhaps out of shame, maybe out of agreement.
I sighed heavily into the phone, knowing she wasn’t the only one who could put on an air of self-importance. “I have a staff to manage and lending decisions to make. Unless you have something you’d like to discuss besides insulting my loved ones, I really must let you go. It’s been a pleasure chatting. We should do it again sometime, perhaps before the next decade passes. But if we don’t, then it’s your loss.”
I caught George’s eye, practically feeling his amusement radiate through my office. He’d been privy to enough of my backstory to understand the gist of what was being said, as well as narrow down to two suspects who was on the receiving end of my wrath.
“Lauren, wait,” Patricia gasped desperately. For a split second, she sounded like someone with something to lose. Someone human.
I hadn’t really been about to hang up on her, but she didn’t need to know that. Let her sweat a bit.
“What do you want from me?” I hissed.
Give me enough guesses, or even just one, and I had a fairly good idea. But I needed her to voice it. I wasn’t about to volunteer.
“Could we meet for lunch?” The request came almost timidly. As if I was some sort of a celebrity. At the very least, as if I was somehow the most important person in her orbit at the moment. The gatekeeper who controlled the outcome of whatever it was she was concerned with.
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