by JL Paul
“Were you aware Monique was at the party and that she’s here, at Jake’s house?”
I fought back tears of frustration as I pushed the button again and again. Finally, a scratchy voice answered.
“What?!”
“It’s Iz. Please get me away from these people,” I begged over the din of their constant questions.
“Sorry, Iz. The gate’s opening.”
I sighed in relief as heavy, steel gates swung open and I could pull through them. I followed the long drive and stopped in front of the house. I rested my head on the steering wheel, allowing my breathing to slow, when someone tapped on my window. I jumped, hand to heart, and found Ronnie grinning widely at me. I opened my door and stepped out, into his warm embrace.
“How are you, Iz?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Can you help me with this stuff?”
He released me to smile and ooh over the puppy. He lifted the crate carefully, poking his fingers through the door so the puppy could reward him with a wet kiss. I grabbed the box of puppy stuff and followed Ronnie to the house.
“Is this Jake’s present?” he asked.
“Yeah. He better like it. The little fur ball already puked in his crate on the way here.”
Ronnie’s eyes grew and he peered carefully in the crate. “That’s nasty.”
“I cleaned it up, don’t worry.”
He nodded dubiously as he opened the door and held it so I could brush past him. I set the box on the floor and watched as Ronnie opened the crate and took the puppy in his arms.
“Jake’s going to love this,” he said.
“Where is Jake?” I asked.
Ronnie snorted a hollow laugh. “He’s still in bed. We didn’t get in until very late. It wasn’t pretty, Iz.”
I tilted my head and studied him. “You look fine.”
He shrugged, tickling the puppy’s ears. “I didn’t drink. I was the designated driver. But Jake, on the other hand…”
Shaking my head, I exhaled long and loud. “I don’t understand you boys and your need to drink excessively until you’re sick. What’s the point?”
Ronnie laughed, his eyes sparkling. “It’s a guy thing. You only turn twenty-one once.”
“So, what, you try to squeeze a lifetime of drinking into one night?”
“Aww, Iz, don’t be too mad at him—you know he’s not much of a drinker anyway. It was his birthday so he let loose a little bit.”
I relaxed and let a smile touch my lips. “I know. I’m not mad or anything. I just feel bad for him. I’m sure he’s not going to be feeling very well this morning.”
Ronnie winked as he stood with the puppy in his arms. “He’ll feel much better when he sees you. He talked about you all night.The boy is smitten with you, Iz.”
He frowned at the lump covered by a blanket on the couch. “Go on up and get Jake.” He pointed at the lump. “I’ll wake Nick and get him started on breakfast. I’m starved.”
My heart bounced as I patted the puppy’s head and started up the stairs. My pulse raced as I thought about a whole week with Jake, alone. Well, the guys were here now and that was fine with me. It would be fun to hang out with them all day - I missed them nearly as much as I missed Jake. Maybe they would have a couple embarrassing stories about Jake to tell me. Something I could use to wheedle anything I wanted out of him.
I laughed to myself. I wouldn’t need to do that. Jake pretty much gave in to whatever I wanted - except that one little thing. And I would behave and wait for that. Jake was much too important.
As I ascended the stairs, I planned to slip in his room and slid into his bed next to him. I’d kiss him softly until he woke.
But my plans fell to the floor of my mind when I found a not so pleasant surprise at the top of the stairs.
“Oh, I hadn’t realized anyone else had arrived,” Monique said in her thick, French accent. She shuffled out of the guest bedroom and headed toward the bathroom. “I doubt if Jake is up for visitors.”
“Like hell,” I muttered as I brushed past her and walked in Jake’s room. I slammed the door, and he jumped, nearly rolling off the bed.
“Wha…?” he asked, incoherently. He sat up, cradling his head in his hands. He was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, all terribly rumpled. “What’s going on?”
I took a deep breath and planted my fists on my hips. “That’s exactly what I want to know.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jake winced and rubbed his forehead, eyes shut tight. “Keep it down, will you, Iz? My head is killing me.”
I huffed and tapped my foot, not concerned in the least about his head. “Do you know who I ran into out there?”
He groaned, sounding like a hippo with a toothache, and slid his feet to the floor. Barely cracking an eye, he fumbled around on the night stand and produced a crumbled pack of cigarettes. I tensed. He never smoked around me. In fact, I was under the impression he’d quit.
Obviously you’re wrong, I thought as he light one and blew out a long stream of smoke. “What’s the problem?”
“Do you know who I ran into out there,” I repeated, pointing at the door for visual effect.
“Hard telling,” he grunted with a laugh. He took another drag off his cigarette and I scowled. I hated to see him smoke. “Although I’m pretty sure only reporters followed us back here.”
I stomped my foot childishly. “Monique, Jake, that’s who is out there.”
He crushed his cigarette out in an ashtray. “I knew that. She was at the party. She has to crash here for a few days.”
My jaw dropped right along with my heart. “Are you serious? How come you didn’t tell me this? You mean all that stuff they said on TV was true?”
“Of course not,” he barked. “But they gave me the idea. The tabloids figured out she was staying at Ronnie’s place in L.A. so naturally her ex found out. She came to town for the party and I told her she could stay here for a few days until we figured out what to do with her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this?” I asked, flabbergasted.
“I didn’t want to upset you,” he said, cradling his head.
“I had a right to know,” I insisted.
He lifted his bloodshot eyes to my face. “Why? It’s my house.”
“And I’m your girlfriend,” I shouted. My fists clenched and my nails dug into my skin.
“Yeah, that’s right,” he snarled. He got to his feet and gently took my shoulders. “And she’s not. I’m not sleeping with her if that’s what you think.” I dropped my eyes and he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Come on, Iz. I don’t want to fight with you.” He cupped my cheek and kissed my trembling lips. I closed my eyes as he deepened the kiss but had to pull away, not able to take the sour taste of his breath. “Sorry. I forgot.”
My head spun and my emotions shot up and down. I just wanted to be with him but this latest twist only hurled me farther into a tense nightmare. Everything was coming to a head, and I felt all those mixed, complicated feelings swirling in my stomach. I ducked my head and allowed a couple tears to escape. I didn’t want to cry, not now, but I couldn’t stop it.
He placed a knuckle under my chin and lifted my face to his. “Iz, I’m…”
Before he could tell me what he was, the door flew open and Monique raced in the room. “Jake, one of the photographers climbed on top of his van and took my picture while I was playing with the puppy in the yard.”
He cursed rapidly under his breath and shot out of the room, totally forgetting our conversation. Monique raised a brow at me, frown marring her beautiful face. I ignored her and slowly followed Jake, finding him on the deck shouting into his cell phone. When his conversation ended, he glared at me, fire in his eyes.
“They’ll stop at nothing.”
I nodded, not knowing what to say. He started to pace and I hopped up on the deck rail. The April sun was bright, sending its warm rays on us so that a jacket wasn’t needed.
“Um, I tried to call you yesterday,” I said, sl
owly, hoping to defuse the situation.
“I turned my phone off. My manager kept calling me about some stupid video and I didn’t want to listen to him,” he said.
I’d never seen him so agitated and I hated it. I was afraid to speak but there were things I had to know. “So, is … um…everyone staying here this week, too, or what?”
He stopped to look at me. “Monique has to stay here for a little bit. She doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Riled, I jumped off the rail. “She has money, Jake. She can rent a hotel room.”
“She can’t. They’ll just find her. They won’t leave her alone.”
“They haven’t left me alone for a month, and I don’t see you hiding me,” I pointed out. I was being difficult, I knew that, but it hurt to see him protecting her.
He shook his head slowly, wincing as he did so. “You’re safe on campus—they can’t go on the school grounds. Monique charged her ex-boyfriend with battery—the press is all over her. Her ex-boyfriend’s family is taunting her. She needs a place to hide out for a few days.”
“Doesn’t she have anyone else to stay with?” I hated how petulant and selfish I sounded but I was helpless to stop it. I’d been looking so forward to this week with him. I needed this week.
“Her family are all in France,” he informed me coldly.
“Well, I would think now is the perfect time for her to visit them.” I drew a ragged breath and narrowed my eyes. “I can’t stay here with her.”
“Oh, geez, Iz. Stop acting like some immature high school kid.”
I took three long steps and yanked the sliding door open, shouting over my shoulder. “Hel-lo! I am an immature high school kid!” I charged through the kitchen and ran to the living room, nearly plowing a sleepy Nick over in my escape.
“Hey, Iz,” he greeted with a wide smile. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“I’m not staying,” I gritted as I shoved past him and threw open the front door.
“Where do you think you’re going, Iz?” Jake asked in a tired, defeated voice behind me.
Anger scorched my face, my neck, my veins, as I turned to face them both. My hands shook as I stepped backwards onto the porch.
“I’m going to Florida to stay with Cammy. She wants to spend time with me.” I spun and stumbled, but righted myself as Jake reached out and snagged my arm.
“Stop it, Iz,” he ordered, bloodshot eyes burning into me. “We’ll figure something out.”
“I can’t, Jake,” I whispered hoarsely, tears prickling the back of my eyes. “This is all too much for me. I need to get away.”
I pulled out of his grip and kissed his cheek then I walked to my car.
“Sure, whatever. Call me when it’s not too much for you, Iz,” he shouted angrily before storming back through the door and slamming it behind him.
The tears came as I raced down the drive, my tires kicking up mud in my wake. The gates opened automatically and the photographers snapped pictures of my car. I hoped they couldn’t see my face but with my luck, they’d probably get front page material.
I parked at O’Hare, slung my bag over my shoulder and bought a one-way ticket to Miami, grateful I had enough money on my credit card.
***
“I’m glad you came, though I’m sorry about why you came,” Cammy told me as we strolled down the sidewalk that Tuesday, searching for more appropriate Florida clothing for me—the things I had packed in my bag were intended for Chicago weather. My heart hurt every time I thought about Chicago. I hadn’t called Jake nor had he called me. I figured we both needed some time to cool down.
I’d called my confused parents and only told them that there’d been a change of plans and that I would be joining Cammy and her family instead. I’d asked them, too, to please wire money, fairly certain there’d be no more room on my credit card.
“Oh, let’s check this place out,” Cammy suggested as we came upon a hip new shop. Cool air smacked our faces as we stepped inside, escaping the humid Florida heat. VTV blasted from several televisions strategically placed throughout the tiny boutique.
Cammy headed directly for a rack of club dresses and shuffled through them, why, I didn’t know. She held up a short, navy blue one in front of me and I frowned. She shrugged and put it back while I wandered over to a more casual rack.
I’d just found a cute pair of Capri pants when the introduction jingle for the music news forced me to look up at the TV out of habit. I blanched when I saw Jake’s face. I was standing, holding the pants in my hand, gaping at the television when Cammy found me. Pain shot through my heart like an arrow through an apple as I stared at the photo on the screen, longing to touch him again—just once.
Cammy put a supportive arm around my shoulders as we listened to the anchorwoman describe Jake’s birthday party—complete with photos—at a hot Chicago club. She gave an abbreviated, but impressive, list of people who’d attended. Of course I wasn’t on it.
“Get me out of here, please,” I begged Cammy. She took the Capris from my hand and tossed them on the rack. Grabbing my hand, she maneuvered me around the displays and back into the warm, Florida sunshine. “The rag mags will have a field day with this.”
“We’ll go out tonight,” she promised as she ushered me to the rental car. “We’ll get your mind off all that stuff.”
I wasn’t sure it would work but I was willing to try.
***
We went out to dinner with Cammy’s parents that evening and somehow they found us. The photographers and reporters lined the sidewalk outside the restaurant when we exited. Mr. Sullivan kept me close to his side as we pushed our way through to his rental car. Guilt rained on me once we were all safely ensconced in the car, and I apologized over and over - even suggesting that I go home. But Cammy’s parents wouldn’t hear of it.
“Don’t worry about those pesky people, Bella,” Mrs. Sullivan, so very much like her daughter, cooed. “Just try to relax and have fun. We love having you with us.”
But the next evening when Mr. Sullivan suggested a trendy new restaurant on the beach, I begged off, claiming to not be hungry. I was terrified I’d ruin their vacation and offered to at least get a hotel room so they’d have some peace.
“We’d rather have you here where we know you’re safe,” Mr. Sullivan told me in a firm tone. He relaxed into a soft grin. “Besides, this is the most fun we’ve had in ages.”
On Thursday morning, Cammy and I donned our bathing suits and hit the private beach. I spotted a few lurkers snapping pictures but I ignored them. My suit was very modest—it didn’t even show any butt cheek.
Spreading our towels on the warm sand, I welcomed the warm rays from the sun. They even seemed to melt some of the ice on my cracked heart. I shoved my sunglasses over my eyes and focused on nothing but the sun, the sand, and my best friend.
“How are you really doing, Bella?” Cammy whispered.
“Okay,” I said, not wanting to admit how much my heart pained me. I didn’t want to admit how hurt and betrayed I still was by Jake’s actions. I couldn’t believe he would hide Monique in his house the week I was supposed to spend with him. I ignored the little voice in my head reminding me how selfish I was being and focused only on the heavy cloud of disappointment marring my perfect day. “I don’t want to think about it today.”
Cammy propped herself up on an elbow. “Sure, whatever you want. But I know you’re hurting, and I don’t like it.”
I smiled despite my pain and kissed her cheek. “Let’s concentrate on our tans today, huh? We’re on vacation.”
She returned my smile and fell back to her towel.
That evening, Cammy decided we needed to hit some under twenty-one clubs and show off our newly acquired tans. Not wanting to damper her vacation further, I agreed. She dressed me up in a skirt and halter, the standard uniform for these clubs, and whisked me away in the rental car.
The small club was loud and the music pumping. Although it was a popular spot fo
r those under the legal drinking age, it wasn’t full to capacity. The thumping music was not my usual preference, but I allowed the beat to flood my body as Cammy dragged me to the dance floor. Finally, it seemed, I was able to relax, especially since I could see no signs of photographers, and began to enjoy the time with Cammy.
I tried to push Jake out of my mind, but he lingered in the back of my brain, a constant reminder of the cause of my listless heart. My silent phone, tucked neatly in the front pocket of my denim skirt, prodded me, too—teasing me like a spiteful child to a caged animal. I knew all I really had to do was call him, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I didn’t know what to say.
I ignored it all the best I could and concentrated on Cammy and dancing and nothing else. Even the male admirers that approached us did nothing to garner my attention. Cammy politely declined their invitations to dance and offers of soft drinks.
When it grew late, we decided it was time to head back to the condo. We were all flying back Saturday evening and Cammy didn’t want us to be tired for our last day of shopping and tanning.
I knew my good fortune couldn’t last because, really, does it ever?
We stepped out of the club, laughing at a lame pickup line a guy had tried to use on Cammy when a camera flashed in our faces. Anger heated my blood and sent my furious heart pumping double time. My hands balled into tight fists.
“Leave me the hell alone!” I screamed.
Cammy hooked my arm and jogged us down the sidewalk to the car, a small horde trailing behind us. Once she unlocked it, she shoved me into the passenger seat. She spun around, fury evident on her pretty face.
“Go. Away.”
“Is it true you and Jake broke up?” they yelled over Cammy’s shoulder. “Is that why you’re here without him?”
“Did Jake and Monique reconcile?”
“Did you deny his marriage proposal?”
“Leave her alone!” sweet Cammy shouted, taking purposeful steps toward them. “She just wanted a quiet vacation with her friend. Why can’t you just go away?”
“Do you know if Jake broke up with her? We saw the photos of her leaving Jake’s house in tears.”
