Desire in the Everglades

by Hoff, Stacy

  Sitting up and looking around at the undisturbed site proved no animal attacks had happened during the night. That was a relief, too. Maybe there hadn’t been any predators around. Natural or placed. Or, if there were, maybe they didn’t want to mess with a human. Or maybe they simply weren’t hungry. He had no idea. His body, stiff and achy, was paying the price anyway. Especially his broken arm.

  It was time to move on with the day. His second to last day. Tomorrow he would win the money. Get the girl. Go the hell home. Well, her home anyway. But who cared? Any place not this place.

  It was going to be fantastic. The first thing he’d do once he got back was take a hot shower. No, make love to his girl. No, take a hot shower. He must stink to high heaven. She might miss him, but she couldn’t possibly miss him that much. Maybe he could at least get a little cleaned up, then have a go at it. Think she’d be up for that? Oh, and he should probably get his arm fixed up, too. After sex though. Priorities.

  The grin he’d worn suddenly dropped. He wouldn’t be seeing her. Not for a few more weeks. Once he was out of this frickin’ forest, he was going to be shoved into seclusion. Really, how stupid was all of this? Pretty damned stupid. But the money was good. For a million dollars, he’d put up with a lot of shit.

  For the remaining time in the Everglades he had left, he still had stuff to deal with. Like a parched throat. All the smoke must have dried him out good. It hurt to swallow. He picked up one of his hand-carved buckets and headed over to the stream. It’d be a while before he could drink, though. He’d need to get a fire restarted, then boil the water so it was free of parasites, then wait for it to cool, then drink the lukewarm water.

  What he wouldn’t give for an ice cold glass. Of beer. At this point, it sounded even more refreshing than plunging naked into a snow bank.

  He’d only made it a few yards when a gleaming white envelope on a rock appeared. The mirage didn’t go away, no matter how many times he blinked. Man, I’ve got get out of here. I’m seeing things. Picking up the envelope and feeling its firm flatness did nothing to dispel the mirage. He turned it over. It was completely unmarked. Was this some kind of trick? If he opened it, would Teleworld pop out and yell: “Surprise, you’re disqualified?” He let go of the envelope as if it burned him.

  Standing there debating, his hand slowly moved toward the envelope again. How could they disqualify him for opening it? He didn’t bring this here, they obviously did. Clearly, they wanted him to have it. Or else, the hog’s next-of-kin decided to leave a nasty note.

  He ripped open the envelope, and hurrying a glance to see who it was from, then blinked in shock. How the heck had Stephanie managed to get it here? Ana. Right. I owe her one. Make that another one.

  He read the note.

  Colin, darling,

  I hope you get this. If you do, please know that I hope with all my heart you’re okay, and that I would do anything to be in your arms right now.

  I want what’s best for you. So much so that I wanted to tell you I got a really good job offer in NYC, and I’m going to take it. It pays much more than my old job, and with this extra money I can help you with all the farm funding you need.

  I want you to go back to Texas to take care of your farm, even though it will be hard for me to be so far away from you. Seek out guest appearances whenever you are given the opportunity, as soon as Teleworld lets you. We should make all the money we can so you can be assured your farm—your dream—is secure.

  I already miss you terribly, so I can only imagine how I’ll feel as the months of separation continue to drag on. Sometimes doing the right thing for someone else is surprisingly painful for the person doing it.

  I am in awe of you. For everything that you are. For how beautiful, sexy, and special you make me feel.

  Yours,

  Steph

  Colin put the letter down, setting it back on the rock. “Steph,” he murmured, “you just don’t get it. It’s not about the money anymore. Or about the farm. It’s about your faith in me. And in you.

  Colin walked off to the creek, feeling his throat constrict even more.

  Ana had just left when Stephanie’s cell phone rang. The Flo Rida tune she normally bopped around to now sounded flat and hollow. Given the tenuous conditions of both her father and Colin, no news was good news. Especially at this hour of night. She glanced at the clock before she picked up. Ten-thirty. Feeling her shoulder muscles tighten, she answered the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Steffie, honey,” her mother sobbed, “Daddy died.”

  Stephanie sat down on her bed without even realizing it. “My God, Mom. I’m so sorry. Do you want me to come over now?”

  “No, honey. First thing in the morning, okay?”

  “Okay, Mom. I’ll be there. I love you.” Acting on autopilot, Stephanie hung up the phone, feeling disconnected from her body. Removed from her senses. Suspended in time. The room began to spin, but she didn’t care. Too numb to cry. To move. To breathe. She stared at the wall without seeing it. The television was on without her hearing it. When the room spun faster, she passed out.

  The sounds of Flo Rida again blasted through the quiet. Stephanie glanced at the clock, 3:35 a.m.

  “Mom wants me to come now?” Stephanie murmured to herself. Okay. She’d do her best to shake the sleep off. Leaning over her bed, she lifted her purse off the floor. It took a few seconds of hasty rummaging to fish her cell phone out. “Hello,” she answered breathlessly, barely pressing the ‘answer’ button before voicemail kicked in.

  “You. Are. A. Slut.”

  Huh? What the heck? “Who the hell is this?” Stephanie demanded. Instead of being intimidated, she was enraged. She felt her eyes narrow into slits, blood pounding through her veins. The voice on the other end, however, sounded even angrier. Female. Familiar.

  With news of her father’s death fresh upon her, it was hard to get a crank call like this and keep calm. But imperative to do so. Because she knew this voice, and she was going to find out who was maligning her. Best to keep them talking. “You sound like you have a problem with me. Have you even met me?”

  “Yes, we’ve met. And I’ll tell you something else, you slut, your boyfriend got himself into more trouble than he could handle.”

  Stephanie’s blood went cold. About to demand information about what happened to Colin, she thought better of it. Who knew who was on the line? It could be a highly unprofessional reporter desperate to get information out of her. “What boyfriend?” she asked casually. “Sounds like you’re sadly mistaken. About everything. Including me.”

  “You wish! And you also wish your boyfriend made it out alive!”

  Click.

  Chapter 33

  This was how her love story ended? It couldn’t. It wouldn’t. It didn’t. The caller was a liar. A crazy person and crazy people lied all the time. They like to hurt people. Create drama.

  A tiny voice inside her head whispered words she shouldn’t heed. What if the woman was right? What if Teleworld had finally gotten what they wanted—a show ending everybody would talk about. What if Colin, even knowing the dangers, wasn’t strong enough to survive?

  A terrifying truth seized her. The show itself had billed the last episode as requiring “parental guidance.” Oh. My. God. Something bad really had happened to him.

  Searing pain shot through her body, swelling her eyes. Robbing her breath. Drying her throat. She let out a scream though her voice was strangled. “Colin!”

  Yet nobody heard. She was all alone now. And would be for life.

  She would never let go of his memory. No matter what. His memory was all she had left. And whose fault was that? She had tried to protect him, yet lost him. She had tried to protect her heart, yet lost that, too. The price of her failure was enormous. More important than her broken heart, a
magnificent man had died. Died.

  The last message he would have gotten from her recommended they live 1,500 miles apart. That money was more important. So he could continue to improve his farm. So she could continue to improve her career. Hell, she didn’t even like her career. Television work was never her dream. It was crap. Look at what a television show cost her. And cost Colin. She just hadn’t had faith to chase after her own dream. To take the risk of writing. To take the risk of depending on him. To take the risk of truly believing in him.

  She had thought she was too smart to make those mistakes, after Freddie. But really, she had just been the same scared little girl. Afraid to take a chance. Afraid to fight for what she wanted.

  She realized now she hadn’t been scared to depend on Colin financially. She had been scared of depending on him emotionally. The more she stayed in New York working, the more savings she built up, the more she could bail herself out if she got dumped again. The problem was she couldn’t trust a man, not even Colin, because she still had no faith in herself. That she was a good person. Intelligent. Interesting. Attractive. Worthy of undying love. One who was wanted, simply because she was who she was.

  He had told her he wanted her. And she had pushed him away. Now she would never be able to take it back.

  Unlike her, Colin had risked everything. He put his life on the line with the television show. He put the farm on the line with its deadly balloon mortgage. He put his heart, home and money on the line by agreeing to live with her in New York. He died like a Marine, one “all in” to win. He’d have no regrets, and that would have made him happy.

  Wiping a drop of sweat off her forehead, she did her best to slow her breathing. Calm down her rapid heartbeat, as well as her runaway fear. This horror show could not be true. Colin was alive. He had to be.

  Rational thought slowly crept in. Some people lived to create drama. All they needed was a willing audience. Take Mark for example, along with the other executives at Teleworld. Even Adrienne. And the crank caller. Stephanie’s eyebrows furrowed, her lips frowned. She was determined not to be a willing audience anymore.

  Stephanie woke up again at dawn. No noise from cars passing by, no streetlights penetrating her blinds. The warmth and blackness of her bedroom made her feel like a baby in a womb. Protected. Shut off from the world. Giving her time to get strong.

  Colin’s goals and dreams were going to happen. If his dreams were realized, maybe someday hers would, too. If Colin lost the prize money, the bank would foreclose on the farm. Unless she could stop the bank by making the payments. She’d be earning more money at Global than anyone needed in life. Certainly more than she needed.

  Shoving her emotions aside, she did her best to stay in business mode. She’d find a New-York-based bank she could work with, who was willing to work with a Texas farmer. Even if the bank demanded twenty percent down, she could swing it with a few months worth of work. She could move to Brooklyn and save up even faster. Who needed a $5,000-dollar-a-month Manhattan apartment anyway? She didn’t need luxury. All that mattered was helping Colin. She’d call up a realtor to see places in Williamsburg first thing in the morning.

  If he felt weird taking money, she could arrange for him to pay her back over time. Hell, she’d force him to take the money if necessary. Never mind how she’d pull that off.

  It dawned on her that she could fix things for herself. Achieve her own dreams. She’d work another year or two in New York and then quit to write full time. Maybe in Texas.

  She shook her head and got up, snapping on another light. She didn’t need to wait anymore for a muse. Colin was her muse.

  That evening, Stephanie and Ana plopped down on Mrs. Lang’s old-fashioned floral couch. The day had been long, hard, and depressing. The only emotional lift was Ana’s leaving work early to help out and lend support.

  “Your mom’s house is very comfortable,” Ana commented. “I feel like I’m in my parents’ house. Literally. They could have been built by the same architect. Typical Brooklyn design. Small, yet cozy, 1930’s colonial, built on less than a quarter acre.” She let out a smile. “Did your mother redecorate your room? Or is it the same shrine my folks have for me?”

  “Yeah, Mom didn’t change much around. Maybe she’s hoping one day I’ll move back in. If Global hadn’t come through with an offer, she might have gotten her wish sooner rather than later. I’m lucky I can continue paying for my own place. Even if this place does feel more like home than my apartment.” Stephanie swallowed hard, her eyebrows furrowed. “I love my mom, but I’m through being dependent on people.”

  “Needing someone is not the same thing as being dependent on them,” Ana responded quietly.

  “I’m not into being ‘needy,’ either.” Stephanie pointed to a large, well-worn ottoman, inviting Ana to put her feet up. Following her own advice, Stephanie kicked off her heels and stretched out her feet, wiggling her toes. The pot of tea Mrs. Lang was brewing might help revive them. If not, the Irish bar across the street would.

  “Look, I’ve helped you out today, right?” Ana asked.

  “Of course! I’m sorry if I didn’t thank you enough. You’ve done everything you could. Calling people to notify them about Daddy. Contacting the funeral home. You’ve probably helped me a million times this month alone.”

  “Yet, you’re not dependent on me. Right?”

  Stephanie bit her lip. “Okay, I’ll admit you have a point.”

  “You know I’ll always be around to help you out. It’s okay if you accept my help. Because I know if I need something, you’ll help me. That doesn’t make us needy. Or co-dependent. It makes us friends.”

  “It means a lot to hear you say that. I’m really . . .” She trailed off, trying to verbalize her emotions. “Touched. Deeply touched.” She hesitated a moment and then continued in a quiet voice. “To be honest, maybe you’re right about me.”

  “I do have you down pat, you know.”

  Stephanie snorted a laugh. “You’re familiar with my many facets, yes.”

  “Many,” Ana confirmed with a large grin.

  “Well, turns out my confidence isn’t so great. I doubt whether the people in my life will stick around.” She hesitated before continuing. “I am trying to get better. Be stronger. But now this had to happen. On top of being worried to death about Colin.” Her voice broke when she spoke his name.

  “Hey,” Ana said, resting her hand on Stephanie’s arm. “Things are going to get better. I promise. You know I never lie.”

  “That’s true,” Stephanie replied with another small laugh that managed to escape her mood. “You are brutally honest. The time I wore the pink polka dot skirt—”

  “Yeah. Sorry. It sucked. I don’t care whose designer label it was. Ugliest. Thing. Ever.”

  Stephanie burst out laughing. “Ana, how am I ever going to work with anybody else? They’ll ‘yes’ me to death on every lame idea I have and the show will tank as soon as it airs.”

  She paused. “Speaking of work, I should have realized when I called you, you’d come running over here. I’m sorry you’ll be docked vacation time.” Stephanie bit her lip. “At least I held off calling until noon.”

  “I don’t mind. At least I won’t get in trouble for not giving notice. I told Mark I was taking a half day to lend a hand with your father’s funeral arrangements.”

  Stephanie saw a shadow cross Ana’s expression, deepening her frown. “What is it?”

  “Mark said he was sorry to hear about your dad, but . . . Never mind. Now is not the time or place. He’s been an ass for so long, I think it’s just ingrained.”

  Stephanie let out a small smile. “You might as well tell me what he said. Mark obviously upset you. If I can make you feel better, I want to. And don’t worry, Global isn’t interested in getting a reference from him. They already gave me the
job, remember? That makes me bulletproof against whatever Mark wants to aim my way.” Stephanie took in Ana’s frown, which for some reason had grown exponentially larger. “Tell me. I can handle it. What could he possibly have to say that’s worse than what I’m already going through?”

  Ana bit her bottom lip. Suddenly, her phone rang, emitting loud beats of an Usher tune. “Excuse me,” Ana said, fumbling around in her purse for it until finally hitting the ‘answer’ button.

  “Girls! One of your phones is ringing,” Mrs. Lang yelled from the kitchen.

  Ana laughed while Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Sorry,” Stephanie voicelessly mouthed, “she always does that. Like we can’t hear it ourselves.”

  Ana nodded as she spoke into the phone. “Yes, the address here is 5452 Monte Drive . . . Okay . . . Thanks.” She hit ‘end’ and looked up at Stephanie. “Some of the producers at Teleworld are sending you flowers.”

  “Really? Holy cow, news travels fast.”

  “Let’s not make this a spiritual moment for the company, shall we?” Ana laughed. “The devil will always be lurking within.”

  “Then an exorcism would help, perhaps?”

  “If exorcisms really work, the staff and I can hire a priest to start with the jerk that replaced you. He’s downright mean. Barks at everyone all the time. And El Jerko couldn’t come up with an original idea if his life depended on it.”