by Kacey Shea
“Evie, this is your sister, not some random client. She’s not even paying us, which I have no problem with, but this is family and you haven’t told your fiancé?”
Through my side mirror, I watch Drew get out of his car, pull his laptop bag over one shoulder, and run his fingers through his hair before walking to the entrance. He uses the intercom and waits for the iron gate to swing open. His fingers tap along the sides of his pants and his gaze darts from side to side.
I sigh. “I’m hoping we find an answer tonight and can be done with this. Then I’ll tell him.”
“Not sure that’s a great idea, but—”
As Drew steps through the opening, I interrupt. “Jon. That’s Drew.”
“I’ve got him in sight. Wait in the car. We don’t want to spook him.”
“Damn it,” I grumble as Drew disappears from my point of view.
“What is it?” Jon says.
“Just the way he’s walking. Looking around, and . . .” I can’t even say it.
“Suspicious,” Jon finishes for me.
“Yeah.”
“He’s going to the second story.”
There are a few minutes in which Jon doesn’t utter a word and I wish we could switch places so I can see what’s going on. The photos he’s taking won’t be enough, because I don’t want to wait any longer for the proof that will either put my sister’s fears to rest or flip her perfect world upside down.
“Shit,” Jon growls through my earpiece. My mind races with the possibilities.
Shit, I dropped my camera.
Shit, I need to pee.
Shit, someone sees me playing peeping Tom.
Shit, Drew’s a lying sack of shit.
“What? What is it?”
“I’m staying up here until he leaves.”
“Leaves? Did he go inside one of the condos?”
“Unit 244.”
“Did you see anything? Jon, tell me what’s going on.”
“I’ve got photos. We’ll debrief after he leaves. I’ll watch the door, but you watch his car. Maybe they won’t stay in.”
Apprehension prickles my fears. “They?”
“Shit.” He swears again. “It doesn’t mean anything until we have all the details, but this doesn’t look good.” He’s trying to protect me, or maybe Drew.
“Tell me.”
He swears again and I hear a shuffle before he says, “A woman opened the door.”
“Woman?” Crap, crap, crap. “Please tell me she was elderly and grandmotherly.” I’m reaching, I know, but this just can’t be happening.
“She’s young, mid-twenties, maybe. And beautiful.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been telling you.”
I grab my cell from where it sits in the cup holder. “I’m texting Melissa.”
“No!” Jon barks and my fingers still over the keyboard. “We do this the right way. We treat this like any other client. I admit this looks bad, but we don’t bring an accusation we can’t back up.”
“But Melissa . . .”
“We’ve got this down to a science, Evie. Whatever Drew’s doing with this woman, we’ll know within a week. First, we find out who she is, and who she is to him.”
Jon’s right. I only hope what we uncover isn’t another cheating husband. Because it’s not only about proving good guys still exist, or that there are exceptions to every rule. This is my sister’s happiness at stake. Her security. Her world. I can’t even process what happens next if Drew’s not the man we all believe him to be.
IT’S BEEN ONE OF THOSE weeks in which Evie and I are ships passing in the night. I’ve been booked with clients and we won’t have a day off together until Sunday. Last night we babysat for my sister, and two nights ago she worked late with Jon. I was up this morning to teach spin and train clients before she was even awake. By the time I came home she’d already left for work. Now I’m back at the club for my evening clients but wishing for some one-on-one time with my woman.
I’m counting down the days until she’s my wife, but even better are the two weeks we’re taking off to explore up and down the West Coast. Two weeks of Evie all to myself. It’s what pushes me through another night of classes and training clients.
Lindsay is back for her third session tonight and she’s quickly become a client I actually look forward to. She has a great sense of humor, and works hard doing anything I ask and then some. After her session, I have a break in clients and then two more hours before I can head home. I shoot Evie a quick text to let her know I miss her while Lindsay finishes her reps on the leg press.
“You’re distracted tonight. Everything okay?” She says, wiping her brow with a towel and taking a quick sip of water while I change up the weight on her machine.
“Sorry. Long week.”
“Hear you there. And it’s only Thursday.”
“Which is kinda like my hump day since I work Saturdays. Three sets of ten.”
She winces and sets her legs for more repetitions. “I guess that comes with the job.”
“It does.” I nod and count aloud each push of her legs. “Good job. Let’s finish up with pull ups.”
“Fine, but only because I’m paying you,” she smarts and I have to laugh.
She follows as I lead the way to an empty bar. “What? Come on! You know you love them. I’m sure you wake up every day dreaming of the next chance you’ll have to pull your body weight over a bar.”
“Yep. That’s it.” She nods with the most serious of expressions. “I think about it more than food, or Netflix, or even sex.”
“Damn, girl. You really like pull ups,” I tease, and when she bursts into laughter I can’t help but do the same.
“Tate.” Evie’s voice is a total surprise and it takes a beat before my brain communicates to my legs that my fiancé is here in the flesh.
“Evie!” I say and even though I’m at work and should remain professional, I take two steps forward, cup her jaw in my palm and steal a kiss. It’s not a peck either, and I don’t pull away until Lindsay clears her throat behind us and one of my co-workers lets loose a whistle.
Evie pulls her lips up with a smile as her cheeks darken with a blush. “Sorry, I know you’re working but I brought you dinner. I just needed to see you.”
“I needed to see you, too. Thank you.” I step back and glance over my shoulder at my client. Shit, I need to get back to work. “Lindsay, this is my fiancé, Evie.”
Lindsay smiles and her eyes crinkle with laughter as she offers Evie a wave. “Nice to meet you. You’ve got yourself a good one.”
“That I do,” Evie agrees, but she studies Lindsay a moment before she turns to me. “Sorry, I’ll let you get back to it. See you at home?”
I check my watch. “Actually, if you want to wait fifteen minutes or so, I have an hour break.”
Her smile brightens. “Of course.”
“Tate, why don’t you go have dinner now. I’ll finish up myself,” Lindsay offers.
“Oh, no. I can’t do that,” I decline, because I won’t shortcut a session, even for more time with Evie. I take pride in my work and my professionalism.
“It’s fine, really. I promise I won’t cheat on my reps.” She strokes her pointer finger across her chest in an X. “Besides, I owe you one from when you stayed late for me on Friday.”
That’s true, it would be fair, and there’s not much coaching involved with her as it is. She knows how to do a pull up. I let my lips pull wide with my smile. “Deal. But you don’t leave until you give a full twenty.”
“Yes, sir.” She mock salutes.
A chuckle leaves my mouth as I turn, wrapping my arm around Evie to pull her to my side. “Thank you for the surprise visit.”
“I hope it’s okay. I hate how we’ve been missing each other these past few days.”
“Me, too. Things good with work?”
“Oh, fine. Business as usual. You seem busier than normal.”
“Ye
ah, just trying to squeeze everyone in before I marry you.” I place a kiss on the top of her head. My lips linger as I inhale, the scent of her shampoo one of the smells I’m an addict of. “God, I can’t wait for our honeymoon. You to myself for two full weeks.”
We get to the door that leads to the office and reception area and I let go of Evie to hold it open.
She grabs a takeout container from behind the desk with my name on it, and I motion for her to follow me outside. There’s an empty bench around the corner that provides us the perfect view of the setting sun. The vibrant splash of oranges and pinks paint the skyline while I dig into the salad she brought.
“So, who was that woman?”
I chew and swallow my mouthful before turning to Evie. “Who?”
“Your client . . . Lindsay.”
“Oh, yeah. She’s a new client of mine.” I take another bite. “This salad is really good. Flower Child?”
“Yeah.” She nods, but her gaze narrows. “She seemed really familiar with you.” When I don’t reply she adds. “Lindsay.”
“Oh, yeah. Well . . .” Shit. How do I go about this? As I never dated anyone in Phoenix until I met Evie, I haven’t had to deal with exes. Hell, before Evie I never cared enough to be considerate.
“Oh.” Her gaze drops to her red Chucks as they tap together at the toes. I hate the way her brow crinkles with worry and decide honesty is always the best policy.
“I dated her a few times back in California. When I first moved there after Oregon. We hooked up as well. But that was almost seven years ago, Evie.”
“And now you’re her trainer?” I reach for her hand but she pulls away.
“It just happened. I didn’t even recognize her name until she stepped foot in the club last week.”
“And you’re okay with that?” The jealously in her tone throws me off guard. Evie’s the most trusting woman I know. This isn’t like her at all.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Let me get this straight. A woman you used to sleep with comes waltzing back into your life unannounced and without warning a few weeks before your wedding and you, one, don’t find anything suspicious about that; and two, don’t think it’s something you should tell your fiancé?”
“Evie, calm down. It’s not a big deal. I’m training her. This is my job.”
“While she fawns all over you wearing her tiny little sports bra and matching leggings? She might as well be wearing nothing!”
“Hey now. I am nothing but professional with my clients. You of all people should know that.”
Evie’s chest rises and falls with her choppy breath, the hard line of her mouth faltering with a quiver as she looks away.
Turning so we’re face to face, I cup her cheeks with both of my palms. She’s forced to meet my stare. “Hey, baby. What’s going on? What is it that has you so upset?”
A few tears escape the corners of her eyes but my thumbs brush them away before they can fall. Her chin quivers on an inhale of breath, and my fear hitches when she hesitates.
“Evie, what is it?”
“I’m sorry. I trust you. It’s just been a really rough couple of days.” She closes her eyes and reaches for me, burying her face into my neck as I hold her close.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No. Not now. It’s a case we’re working.”
“It’s okay.” I understand there are some cases she can’t discuss due to contracts. “I love you, Evie. If you don’t want me training Lindsay, I’ll pass her on to another trainer. You’re more important than any client.”
“No. It’s fine. I trust you, Tate. I do.” She eases away and nods at my half-eaten salad. “Eat. I’m okay. This case we’re working has me questioning things, and when I saw you with her it just, I don’t know, it picked at some of those doubts. I wish we could fast forward the next few weeks to when we are already married.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying all this time.” I pick up my food and take another bite. “It’s still not too late to elope,” I joke, because I know it’s not even an option.
“That offer is more tempting than ever,” she admits with a tight smile.
“Hey, I love you. Always.”
“I love you, too.”
I’M GETTING MARRIED IN TWO weeks.
Fourteen days until the rehearsal and fifteen until I say I do.
There’s a to-do list a mile long with all the last minute errands and phone calls that need to be made, but instead of focusing on that, I can’t stop thinking of the woman Drew’s been secretly meeting. It consumes my thoughts, and for the last three days I haven’t been able to concentrate on much else.
Tuesday night after we observed Drew leaving and tailed him as he made the drive home well past eleven, Jon showed me the photos of Drew going inside her condo. Greeting her with a warm embrace. Leaving the same way. I was sick to my stomach.
We need to find out who she is. I want to drop all our other clients to focus solely on this, but Jon, ever the voice of reason, is keeping me in line. We’ve kept up with our current workload of client meetings, online investigations, and surveillance. More importantly, I’ve avoided giving Melissa any information other than letting her know Jon found a lead. We don’t want her involved. She asked us to take over and that’s what we’re doing. I only wish I could speed along the process.
Jon ran the public record on the condo and found out it’s being rented by one Amelia Moreau. I’ve been stalking her online ever since. At least I’m trying to. She’s one of those who doesn’t use her actual photo for a profile picture, but seeing the same Arizona skyline icon across all platforms, we determined it must be her. She blocks all her social media and won’t answer a friend request from any of my dummy accounts. Hot young guy, older handsome man, even flirty and fun chick haven’t been let into her circle. I can’t decide if that makes her really smart, or plain suspicious.
Jon had his contact run her through the system and she’s clean as a whistle. Not even a speeding ticket. It only makes me wonder more. Who is she?
I’ve been trying to figure it out all afternoon to no avail. Shutting my laptop with a forceful snap, I roll my chair away from the desk and release a frustrated growl.
Jon lifts his gaze from his computer screen, but I don’t need to see his face to know he’s holding back a smirk. “What now? Let me guess. The tulle your mom ordered is two shades too dark? The caterer can only do vanilla frosting, not vanilla bean, and the entire wedding reception’s gone to hell?” Now he really does laugh.
I shove my fingers into my hair and tug at the roots. “No! Those are the things a normal bride would be worried about right now!”
“I never pegged you for normal,” he muses, his attention back on his computer while his fingers fly across the keyboard.
“Thanks. I think.” Checking the time on my cell, I realize how late it is. Tate’s working until nine again so it’s not as though I have to rush, but I should probably get some wedding day to-dos checked off my list.
“Ah ha!” Jon shouts, pointing at his screen, and I think he’s about to jump out of his chair he’s so amped up.
“What?” My eyes go wide at the excitement that spreads across his normally serious features.
“I knew it! I knew something was off about her.”
“Who? Amelia?”
“Yep.” He turns his smug grin toward me, along with the screen of his computer so I can view it also.
“That’s her!” I shout because, hot damn, Jon is getting good at this cyber stalking. Her face, along with a dozen others, graces the front page of the university’s student newspaper in a recent opinion article. I scan the article but Jon gives me the rundown.
“I wondered why she wasn’t showing up on anything. She’s a foreign exchange student. That explains her lack of records and her proximity to the university.”
“But it doesn’t explain why Drew’s meeting with her weekly.”
“His company hires inter
ns from the business program, doesn’t it? I remember him saying something about that. Maybe that’s how they know each other.”
“And now his company makes house calls?” I raise my eyebrows and return the computer monitor to Jon.
He twists his lips with a scowl and leans forward in his chair. “I don’t exactly know what to make of this. I’m sure I could find out, but it would take days. I’d be following this young woman, stealing hours from our business when you have a wedding this month and I have a baby coming next month . . .”
“Get to the point.” Jon’s not one to ramble. I have a feeling I won’t like where he’s leading.
“Honestly, QT, why don’t we confront Drew?”
I shake my head before he even finishes. “No. We’re not doing that.”
“Why not?”
“My wedding is in two weeks. I cannot deal with my sister—who is in my wedding party, mind you—falling apart right now. Two weeks, Jon! Two weeks until Tate’s family and mine are coming together to celebrate our big day. I want it to be perfect. No, scratch that. I don’t want it to be a monumental disaster. After spending the last few months planning this one day, is that so much to ask? Do you even know how much work goes into a wedding?”
“I’m guessing you’re gonna enlighten me.” He leans back in his chair, hands settling behind his neck.
“A lot. A fucking lot. And do you know how crazy my sister is right now?”
“Now, that I can guess.”
“Jon! I’m home!” Kate calls through their apartment.
“Speak of the devil,” he grumbles.
I shake my head and try not to laugh. “You mean the mother of your child.”
“And love of my life, but all three titles work.”
Kate’s big belly pushes through the open doorway and a smile lights up her face. “Oh, hey, Evie. You’re working late.”
“Yeah, Tate’s at the club so I wasn’t in a rush. I’ll get out of here and let you two have your space. I wanted to get a lead on the woman we saw Drew with.” I detach my laptop from the charger and tuck it inside my bag.
