Intercepting the file, Ross took it gently from her fingers. “I can handle them today.”
“I got them,” she said, looking at him for the first time since arriving.
“It’s fine, really,” he insisted, his eyes pleading her not to fight with him. She knew what he was doing. He was fearful that she couldn’t handle the pressures.
“You have the draft party to finish up and Chelsea’s wedding,” he said, stuffing them under his arm. “I got this.”
The office fell silent again as her eyes darted between Charlotte and Whitney to back her up, but both refused to even look at her, staring nervously at nothing in particular. She knew what they were thinking. That she was going to spiral out of control, but that wasn’t going to happen. Not this time. She wasn’t going to crumble. Jax wanted a divorce and all she had left were her girls, her friends, and her business, and even though it felt like it would be a lot easier to just succumb to all the pain of it all, she refused to let any of those things go down the drain.
“Fine,” she said, picking up her mail from the side of the desk. She had no interest in fighting and even less tolerance to be around people who thought she was going to go out of her mind at any given moment. A pile of papers falling off the side of the desk, Alivia snapped.
“Damn it, Charlotte, clean up this desk. This is an event company, not a fashion studio.”
Turning towards Whitney who was sitting on the edge of the couch, she shook her head. “And you. I told you to go home and rest,” she pointed towards the door. “Now go home before you give birth right here on this damn floor.”
Walking past Ross, she felt their eyes on her back, her face feeling hot. Swinging around, she pointed the bills inside her hand towards the files under his arm.
“And I’m planning that wedding,” she promised before moving towards her office pausing at the door. Looking back at her friends, she pinned each of them a look. “And for the record, I’m fine!”
* * *
“Eight, nine, and ten,” Trevor counted off as Jax slammed down the barbell.
“Beast mode today, huh?” Trevor asked, taking a plate off the bar for his set. He knew his friend had only wanted a workout, not a beating, but Jax welcomed the burn in his chest and the breath leaving his lungs. It gave him a different kind of pain to concentrate on. Since the day Liv had slammed the door telling him to leave, he felt like he was taking a continual hit to the head. And the stomach. And chest too. He was mentally drained, his whole body ached and he swore even his teeth hurt.
“Thanks for letting me crash at your house.” Jax grabbed his water bottle from beneath the bench. “Once I figure out a game plan, I’ll leave you guys to your peace.” He leaned his head back, taking a swig of water.
“It’s not a problem.” Trevor sat down on the bench for his set looking at him a moment. “So what is your game plan?”
Silently shaking his head, he looked up into the bright training room lights on the ceiling. Truth was, he didn’t have one. He had a strategy last month to get his wife to understand why he left and making her understand why he did what he had done, but that was until Vanessa stepped in. Instead of believing him, she assumed that he was abandoning her again. He couldn’t completely blame her, but how the hell could she have thought that after all the confessions, the love making and the times they shared together in the past month that he was planning on leaving her? Permanently?
The most frustrating part of it all was that she didn’t even let him explain. She just assumed the worst and shut down. If she just stopped and listened, she could have seen that the papers meant nothing and that he had never planned on divorcing her. It was a lapse of judgment at a time when he was feeling sorry for himself.
“I have no idea,” he said truthfully and for the first time in his life, he really had no idea how to fix this. Against his better judgment, he was giving her time to calm down and hopefully a chance to come to her senses and look back at the past month and their entire life together and see that he was crazy about her. That he loved her and would die for her if he had to. That he didn’t want to breathe another minute without her.
But she wasn’t.
She was stubborn, hurt, and scared. A ruthless combination for his wife and as the days dragged on he became increasingly worried about her falling apart again all over a crazy assumption. He wanted nothing more than to just go back home and sort everything out, but he would never cause a scene in front of his girls. No, he couldn’t go back until he knew where her head was in all of this. Was she just punishing him? Was she going to call him any minute and ask to see him? Was she finished with him?
“You know this isn’t your fault, right?” Trevor leaned forward against his knees looking at him. “Liv is stubborn.” He said shaking his head. “And hurt and I think if you give her time, she’ll come around.”
It was funny how so many things had changed in just a few short weeks. Not only had he fallen even more in love with his wife, but he distinctly remembered having a similar conversation with Trevor before, only last time it was his best friend telling him that he was the one who was wrong.
“I don’t know,” he said, placing his hands on his hips spacing out a bit while his breathing calmed. What did he have to do to convince her that he was never going anywhere again? That he needed her like he needed his next breath and that he would do whatever needed to be done, even leave the Mavericks, as painful as it sounded, to get far away from Vanessa and all the problems she caused. He would do it all, just to have his family back.
“Give her time.” Trevor sat up stretching his arms. “She’s upset now, but she’ll come around.” He lay down on the bench positioning his hands on either side of the bar. Jax moved over to spot him, holding the bar lightly.
“I have to talk to her, before the draft party too,” Jax said, as Trevor lifted the bar off the rack.
“I need to fix this. This happened because of Vanessa and that makes me responsible.”
“Might be hard to do,” Trevor said through his teeth, pushing up the bar. “Liv leaves for Georgia tomorrow,” he groaned, pushing up the weight.
“What?”
“She,” Trevor paused, lifting the bar up for the final time, slamming it down on the rack.
“She is going out to convince Chelsea’s parents to come to the wedding,” he said out of breath.
Of course she was.
Liv was a fixer and would stop at nothing to make sure that her family and friends were happy and well taken care of. It was just who she was. And flying out two days before one of the biggest nights of her career to bring a family back together was just what she did. But, would she want to bring their family back together?
“She leaves tomorrow and won’t be back until the day before the party.” Trevor took a swig of his water before wiping his face with his towel. “So just give her some space.”
“Giving her space didn’t work out so well for me last time,” Jax said, taking another pull of his water.
“Look.” Trevor narrowed his gaze and Jax knew he was about to get some wisdom from his best friend. But he wasn’t in the mood for advice or wisdom or any old proverb that put things into perspective. He wanted his wife to listen to him and to stop running scared.
“Sometimes, we love our women to a fault and when we feel threatened at losing them, we react,” Trevor said, wiping his face with his blue towel again. “And we don’t always make the right move.”
He had to agree with him on that one. He was guilty of that. But so was Trevor. When he got traded from the Falcons to the Mavs a few short months after meeting Chelsea, he had asked her to leave her family, her city, and her job to follow him to Charleston. And she had.
“The last time was your mistake,” Trevor pointed out. “But not this time. This was out of your control.”
Jax didn’t care whose fault it was, he just wanted it fixed. Every hour that passed felt like another nail in his coffin. He had contemplated going to her o
ffice, but he also didn’t want to cause a scene. She was mad as hell the last time he had seen her and he knew she wouldn’t be able to have a civilized conversation. He was the most protected man on the field, but Liv had left him battered and bruised, but despite how hard she pushed him away, he’d push harder because he wasn’t going to rest until he had his family back. For good.
20
“All passengers boarding flight 2809 to Atlanta, we will now begin seating.”
Shoving the last of her blueberry muffin into her mouth, Alivia took another sip of her iced coffee and tossed it in the trash. She was starving but only had five minutes in-between getting through security and her flight boarding. Walking towards the gate, she fished out her boarding pass, allowing a few businessmen to step around her to the desk. She hated flying. But it was a lot faster to get to Atlanta by plane and catch an eleven o’clock flight back home than it was to endure the eight hour roundtrip car ride. Waiting to leave until the girls woke up, she had managed to squeeze in a few more hugs and kisses from each of them, promising to be home that night. Moving towards the desk, she waited for her section to be called. She was actually looking forward to the change of scenery, even if it was for only ten hours. It was getting more and more difficult with each passing day to be inside the house. It felt empty again. It was all becoming too real as the days dragged longer and the nights more brutal and if she had to look in Hailey or Hannah’s eyes one more time when they asked when they would see their daddy again, she was convinced she was going to lose it. She didn’t know how much longer she could be strong for them.
Suppressing a small yawn, she wished she had managed to squeeze in some extra sleep and wanted to curse Ross for stopping by last night. She hadn’t been all that surprised when he had shown up on her doorstep only a few hours after she had left work. She hadn’t left her office all day, except to go to the bathroom and after her outburst first thing in the morning, she figured everybody had preferred it that way. Bless his heart, he brought the bottle of pinot and the pint of Vanilla Toffee Bar Crunch and played with the girls. Once she tucked the girls into bed, Ross had begun “operation get Liv talking” as to be expected, but she had shut it down. She had to. As great as it was having someone help fill the empty silence of the night, she missed Jax. Too much.
Handing the pleasant blonde her ticket and passport, she waited to be waved on before crossing the tarmac. Entering the plane she found her seat, thankful for the little things in life, like an aisle seat for extra leg room.
“Hello.”
Securing her purse under her seat, she smiled at the balding man next to her. “Hello.”
“Headed to good ol’ Baton Rouge?”
“Atlanta, actually. I’ll be getting off at the first stop.” She sat back watching the passengers fill the cabin. After the entire plane was boarded she quietly sat through the emergency exit demonstration video, resting her head back on the seat doing what she had done since the day she kicked Jax out of their home.
She thought of him.
As the plane wheels reared to life beneath her, she closed her eyes choosing to concentrate on something pleasant. Something enjoyable. Something comforting. As the million pound machine soared up into the air and somehow miraculously stayed up there, she focused on Jax’s emerald eyes on the beach in Clearwater when she had told him to stop pushing her away. How they lit up in relief when she made him understand that none of her breakdown was his fault and the intensity they held when he stared back at her. Smirking to herself, she gripped the arm rest, focusing on his laugh that bounced around the entire house when the girls said something that was beyond their years. Concentrated on the power of his arms around her and the security she found inside of them and the pitch of his voice whispering that he loved her, even when he thought she was sleeping.
The seatbelt sign dinging above her, she opened her eyes refocusing them on her surroundings. The harsh reality that she was as far away from all those things with Jax as she was from land, set in. Was it always going to be like this? Anytime she needed comfort and security she would think of him, spending the rest of her life daydreaming about the peace that settled inside of her when she thought of him? Grabbing her tote, she needed to finish some last minute plans for the draft party. Desperate to focus on something else, she still needed to sign off on the flowers arrangements for the Mav’s party, waiting for the florist to send her pictures of the mockups. She wanted something fresh and thrilling and working with the best florist in town, she knew that Marc would come up with something fantastic. He had to because the party was only forty-eight hours away.
Opening her laptop she waited for it to load and took a diet Coke offered by the stewardess. She needed to solidify the timeline for all her assistants, too. Headsets were great, but she needed this event to run like a fine tuned machine, which meant forcing everyone to be over prepared. Signing off with the caterer and the entertainment company, she opened an email from the building owner accepting her request for an early set-up time. The earlier she could get her vendors inside the vacant mansion, the faster she could transform the old historic building into an exclusive club where members of the Mavericks family, both old and young, could dance and celebrate the night away.
Of course that work would have gotten completed if Jonathan Olson from Columbia, a self-proclaimed prevalent real estate agent in the city whom had two grown kids, filled his weekends playing golf and was currently going through a nasty divorce hadn’t talked her ear off from the moment she checked her email until the plane descended into Atlanta. Normally she would have welcomed the chatter and engaged in a conversation with anyone on a flight, but much like everything else in her life right now, she wasn’t up for it.
Gathering her bags under her seat, she waited, her mind wandering to a lesson her mama had taught her a long time ago. She had always preached that with a heartbreak, people tend to process through various stages before the healing process could begin; denial and shock, which evolved into sadness and helplessness, followed by anger, which in turn made it easier to move on. Usually her mama’s wisdom was spot on, but not this time. And not with Jax. She had done the complete opposite of that method, her anger getting the best of her when she called him “a lying piece of shit.” That wasn’t nice. Wincing at the thought, she was convinced she was stuck in sadness, where she had resided for the better part of the week, but the denial wasn’t coming and she couldn’t help but wonder when her healing process would begin. Or maybe she didn’t want it to. Maybe existing in a place where she was still able to imagine his touch, his smell, and the sound of his voice; still madly and consumingly in love with him was what she wanted? Maybe she didn’t want to believe he was really planning on divorcing her. Or maybe there had been signs all along that she chose to ignore because it felt too good to have him back; but the more she replayed the last month in her head, she couldn’t find any indication of him blindsiding her again. Everything had been wonderful, perfect even, making the entire situation even more confusing. Just what she needed, more confusion in her life. But regardless of any scenario she could concoct in her mind, the papers didn’t lie. Stepping out into the hot Atlanta heat, she slipped on her sunglasses, hopeful to fix a few relationships that she may actually have some control over.
* * *
Standing on the Welcome mat of the most charismatic home she had ever been to, Alivia fanned herself to rid the nerves threatening to abort the entire mission. The small flag resting inside the gardens of the budding flowers seemed to be taunting her as she stared at the light blue front door. She had spent the better part of the day mentally practicing what she was going to say to the Shaws when she arrived, but all that seemed to be abandoning her now. Seemed to be a trend lately. Things and people abandoning her. Checking her purse again to make sure her ringer was off to eliminate any interruptions she saw a text.
Trevor: Thank you again for doing this for Chelsea…and for me… and of course Asher. I’d tell you how much th
is means, but I have a feeling that you already know. You are the best Liv and we are lucky that you are ours.
It was all the encouragement she needed as she knocked hard on the front door before she lost all nerve. She had known these lovely people all her life, but something about talking to them now, about this particular topic, made her anxious. Only one outcome would come of this visit, the weight of that feeling permanently lodged in her throat. Opening the door, Pastor Jim Shaw stood in front of her looking exactly the same as she had remembered. More laugh lines outlined his sharp face, a few more gray hairs, still donning his signature khaki trousers and muted colored polo that he had worn even when she and Chelsea had been kids.
“Alivia Moore,” he smiled nodding slowly, “Monaghan,” he corrected himself quickly. “I apologize. To me you’ll always be that fiercely determined eight year old refusing to leave our house and convincing us that our daughter just had to come outside to ride bikes every morning before breakfast.”
“Hello, Mr. Shaw,” she smiled widely at the memory. It really was good to see the man that in a sense, had been a father figure to her. She practically lived at the Shaw’s house up until Jim packed them all up and moved them across the country, taking her best friend with him when they were to begin high school.
“Come in, please,” he insisted, moving back inviting her inside. She had only been to their home twice before, one of those times when Chelsea had told her parents that she was moving to Charleston when Trevor. Stepping inside, she looked around at the quaint house looking like a glorified limited commodities magazine.
“It’s great to see you,” Jim added, closing the door behind them. “When Mary mentioned that you were here for work and wanted to come for a visit,” he moved beside her, “I was pleased to hear so.”
Good. That was good to hear. She just hoped he would still feel the same way when she left.
False Start (Mavericks #1) Page 31
