“We will be at the wedding,” Mr. Shaw said, stepping beside his wife wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “That is, if you still think she will still have us?”
Resisting the urge to fall to the floor in glorious relief and exhaustion, she felt the huge weight lift off her shoulders barely able to contain her excitement.
“Absolutely,” she beamed, wrapping Mr. Shaw in for a hug, trying to keep herself from jumping up and down.
“Alright,” she said taking a hold of Mary’s arms. “I will tell Trevor that y’all are coming, but I want it to be a surprise for Chelsea,” she urged, wondering if she had somehow lost her mind in the process of all of this.
A week ago she wanted nothing more than for Chelsea to be excited and focused about planning her wedding, but now, seeing all the emotions and tears, she wondered if keeping it a surprise would make it even more special? Something that she couldn’t order from a florist or design in her office, rather a beautiful moment for a beautiful family on a beautiful weekend.
“I will email you all the details and have you in Charleston just in time for the rehearsal,” she said looking back at them. Agreeing, Mrs. Shaw pulled her in for a hug, walking her to the front door.
“Thank you again, Alivia.”
“My pleasure.” She opened the front door, popping her head back into the living room. “A pleasure as always, Charlie Brown,” she smiled sweetly, referring to Charles by his childhood nickname. The one that he loathed. Earning her another scolded look.
“I will see y’all real soon.”
Despite the suffocating humid air greeting her as she made her way out into the muggy night, Alivia felt fantastic. And relieved. Extremely, extremely, relieved. She was good at this. At problem solving and felt silly for even doubting herself before. She had always had a knack for solving everybody else’s problems. Now if only she could figure out a way to solve her own.
21
Sitting in the car, Jax fiddled with his keys inside his hand. Keys that no longer matched the locks to his home ever since Liv had changed them. She wasn’t home, he knew that, Ross had given him the heads up that she was knee deep in set-up for the draft party. When he had called Ross the day she had kicked him out, he had promised Jax that he would try and get through to her, and hopefully, calm her down.
That was a week ago.
Sliding out of his truck, he walked to the door and knocked. He knew Magda was home with the girls, and boy did he miss his girls. Resting against the doorframe, he dropped his head. Standing on the front porch of his own home waiting to be let inside was deflating and the idea that they were back to that had him questioning some things of his own. He thought they had come so far, opening up about his past and letting her in on his fears, one of the hardest things he had ever done. He thought that they had moved on, became stronger. That she was done shutting him out without letting him explain, but maybe they hadn’t. Maybe he had only seen what he wanted to see?
Opening the door, Magda’s eyes were warm with sympathy, moving out of the way she let him inside.
“Mr. Jax,” she said with care, pulling him down, enveloping him into a big hug holding him hard. Without a word she patted his cheek, but he knew she felt bad for him. And he hated when people felt sorry for him.
“Daddy!” Hailey’s voice echoed down the hallway as she barreled towards him jumping into his arms.
“My munchkin,” he smiled scooping her up, smacking a big kiss on her tiny porcelain cheek. Closing his eyes, he melted as she wrapped her arms around his neck squeezing tightly. He missed her so much.
And Hannah.
And Liv.
“Daddy, where did you go?” her little voice asked into his neck, continuing to squeeze him, not letting go. His heart crushed right there. He couldn’t very well tell his sweet girl that he had screwed up and gave her mama ammunition to dig her heels into the ground and shut him out again.
“Daddy?” Hannah asked, walking into the foyer, fairy wings dangling from her back and wearing a puffy skirt bigger than her. Dropping her wand, she ran towards him as he dropped down to one knee, scooping her up in his other arm, hugging her tightly. “I missed you.”
Sitting at the kitchen table eating grilled cheese sandwiches and Goldfish crackers, discussing school, their little friends, and the latest episode of Sophia the First, Jax realized just how much he had missed his family.
“Daddy, when are you coming home?” Hannah asked, taking a long sip of her juice box. He didn’t want to lie to his daughters, they were too smart for that, but if he didn’t find a way to make Liv understand that he never had any intentions of signing those papers, than he wasn’t coming home to his family. Ever again.
“I’m working on it, munchkin,” he promised, crumbling up his napkin and throwing it on his plate. He didn’t want to think about not coming home. To never have the chance to wake up next to Liv or miss out on the moments that most took for granted, simple moments like tucking the girls into bed at night, watching a movie together, vacations and lazy days in the backyard. Holidays and cookouts and parties. He wanted it all. For good.
“Alright, munchkins, do you remember how we talked about Mama getting a special award tonight because she’s so awesome?” he asked, leaning into the table letting them think they were in on some big secret.
“Yes,” they whispered back, their eyes sparkling in curiosity, eating it up.
“Alright, well before Mama leaves for the party tonight,” he grabbed the box on the counter opening it. “I want you girls to give this to her.”
Despite how bad things were between him and Liv, he wanted her to feel special tonight and know that her family was proud of her. That they were behind her.
“It’s a princess necklace,” Hailey breathed, running her small little fingers along the trail of diamonds. Smirking, he watched his sweet girls’ eyes sparkle. Typical women, fascinated by diamonds.
“Yes, it is munchkin,” he smiled, taking in the girls’ faces. “A princess just like your mama.”
* * *
“T-minus six hours people,” Alivia yelled, from the small platform that would soon be transformed into the stage to introduce the rookie players into the Mavericks’ organization.
“Where did we say the cigar roller was going to be set up again?” Ross asked, hopping up on the platform beside her.
“Charlotte,” she yelled again over the crowd of workers setting up the white couches, “Make sure all those sofas are pushed far enough off the dance floor.”
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” she asked Ross, pushing her bangs out of her face.
“Cigar roller,” he said, his mouth twisting, “Where did we agree he was going to set up?”
“Oh, just outside the main room.” She pointed to the door. “I want it to be a quiet area away from all the madness.”
Writing down the description on an outline they had spent the better part of the week hashing out, she stared out over the mess they had to work with. Wrapping his arm around her, Ross squeezed her into his small frame. Letting her head fall onto her friend’s shoulder she released a long breath.
“Are we crazy for thinking we can pull this off?”
“Of course,” he chuckled, kissing the side of her head quickly. “But crazy is what we do best.”
Looking back down at the sketches in his hands, he rubbed his forehead.
“But right now I’m more concerned about the placement of these tabletops. I’m going to rework some of them to give us maximum space,” he insisted, not waiting for a response as he jogged down the side of the stage.
Taking another moment to breathe, she watched Ross direct the set-up crew to move some tables. This was it. This was the party that was going to show exactly what she was made of; even if she hadn’t been feeling made of much lately. Since leaving Atlanta the discussions she had with the Shaws about forgiveness, had made it near impossible to get Jax off her mind. There had been multiple times that day she found herself pic
king up the phone to call him and let him shed some light on the entire situation, and every time she had stopped herself. When the papers had arrived he had mentioned that it wasn’t what she thought and that he needed to explain, and maybe she should let him? Maybe she could gain more understanding? Was she torturing herself by staying away from him over a misunderstanding? Just like last time?
No. She wasn’t. She was delusional.
She knew what she needed to do and that was to stay strong and refuse to allow him to sweet talk his way back into her life. Like he had done before. Even if he was in a bad place and never thought he would actually go through with sending the divorce papers, the fact that he even thought enough to request papers to be filed was what continually turned the knife in her chest. There were times when he had left that she wondered if they could ever work it out. If she could forgive him for leaving or if she could handle him really being gone from her life. But when she saw the honesty and vulnerability in his eyes in Florida, she knew she wouldn’t have been able to let him go, even if it had scared the crap out of her. But standing on a wooden platform on the biggest night of her career, she was left more heartbroken and even more confused.
“Liv,” Whitney said breaking her daze, standing in front of the platform holding a basket full of linens. “The caterer wants to do a final review with you.”
Agreeing, she hopped off the stage, walking beside her friend. Ever since cutting her hours, Whitney hadn’t been in the office much, the last time she had seen her was when she yelled at her to go home. Wincing at the thought, she reached down rubbing Whitney’s firm belly.
“How ya feeling?”
She looked tired and worn out, no doubt feeling “finished” growing a baby, but she also seemed nervous. And tense.
“Just tired,” Whitney said, plastering on a fake smile. “But don’t you dare tell me to go home again because I am bored out of my ever-lovin’ mind,” she whined and Alivia couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’m sorry about that,” she said, slightly embarrassed. She had never freaked out on any of her staff before, certainly not over a personal matter, only proving that she had to work triple hard these next few weeks to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. Just because her nerves were shot, her mind frazzled, and her heart was in pieces, didn’t mean she could go around taking it out on others.
Taking the basket of linens from Whitney, desperate to change the subject, she nudged her to follow her towards the kitchen.
“Are you sure you’re up for this tonight? Even if you are just a guest?”
“I’d feel a whole lot better if you gave me a headset and let me boss around the wait staff and some bartenders,” Whitney pleaded, batting her lashes. Laughing Alivia shook her head.
“Not a chance. The dj is phenomenal though, so maybe you’ll dance so hard this baby will just skip on out.”
Whitney’s eyes widened, pausing to fix one of the many artificial palm trees rounding out the Havana theme.
“One can only hope! I’m so nervous for the delivery.”
“Alivia, dear!” Sergio the head chef for the evening called from the kitchen door, his thick Latin accent larger than the man himself. “I need you to approve this food, huh?”
Placing the linens down on the table for Whitney, she smiled, pulling out a chair ordering her to fold the napkins sitting down, earning her another eye roll.
After signing off with Sergio, Alivia went into overdrive. The florists had arrived demanding her direction for each flower piece as the lighting crew cluttered the floor with bulbs and lighting poles. Checking her phone again to send Magda a text about the girls, she slipped out the side service door entrance. She needed some fresh air. Stepping onto the cobblestone alleyway, she placed her hands on her hips, allowing the late afternoon sun to shine on her face. It was officially summer in Charleston, the heat of the hot sun doing little to cool down her nervous tension. Looking down at her hands shaking, she shook them out.
Why was she so anxious? She had planned over five hundred parties, this marking her seventh draft party. The room was looking fantastic, her staff was on point, and she was even surprised that she was ahead of schedule. So why did it feel like the walls were closing in, making it difficult to breathe? As much as she wanted to blame it all on the party, she knew better. The thought of seeing Jax in just a few short hours was looming, the thought of it all making her head pound. And the more she suppressed it, the harder it hurt. What was she going to say to him? Was he going to try and confront her? This was not how the night was supposed to go. Not how any of this was supposed to be. Where was the excitement? Where was her pride and confidence? She should have it all it together, looking forward to her award and enjoying all the months of hard work. Her eyes filling up quickly, she sniffed back the tears. She refused to breakdown and ruin the evening. Too many people were depending on her and she needed to get used to doing a lot of things without Jax, he had made that point loud and clear a week ago. She wouldn’t give him that power over her, wouldn’t give anyone that power ever again.
But she missed him.
So damn much.
He was the only one who could calm her down, but she didn’t have that anymore. Didn’t have the peace he instilled in her just by holding her. Filling her lungs with fresh air, she opened the door and paused. Looking back in the alley, the knot in her stomach tightened. Maybe it was the pressures of the party or the apprehension of seeing Jax again, but whatever it was, something about the evening ahead felt completely off.
* * *
Two hours and a whole lot of hairspray later, Alivia sat in her bathroom as her hairdresser Max shaped a masterpiece of blonde curls. One of his make-up artists, Mandy, brushed her cheeks repeatedly with various shades and consistencies of foundations and if her stomach hadn’t been twisted in knots from stewing over the last minute party details, she would have actually been enjoying herself.
Chelsea, Whitney, and Charlotte sat around her getting the same kind of treatment, while Ross played hair salon in her bedroom with the girls. They had all agreed weeks ago to get ready for the party together and she was grateful for it now. Throwing such lavish events usually left about six minutes inside a bathroom stall at the venue to shed the Nike sneakers and yoga pants for a more professional attire, but Charlotte had put so much work into designing their gowns, Alivia wanted to make a fuss on her behalf.
“No,” Charlotte demanded, lowering her eyes into the mirror next to her, “More fierce.” She grabbed a black eye liner pencil handing it to the young girl doing her makeup. “I want dramatic.”
Charlotte would never admit it, but she was nervous too. All of them were wearing her designs and in a way it was her coming out party, introducing her talents to the community. Alivia couldn’t fault her though, tonight was different for so many reasons.
She was receiving an award for outstanding work and that meant something to her. Meant that no matter what happened in life, her work had an effect on others and nothing could ever take that away. More importantly, it was her chance to prove to herself that she could overcome any hurdle. She just wished she could come out the other side a little stronger, but resiliency hadn’t seemed to be her strong suit lately. The last few nights she had crawled into bed telling herself that she was strong because she had managed to go another day without Jax, but the truth was, she was holding on by a thread. And that was terrifying.
Guarded with a can of hairspray, Max picked a few more strands of hair, moving out of the way.
“What do we think?”
Looking back in the mirror, the corners of her mouth lifted. Gone were the big round curls that she usually favored when wearing a dress and in its place was a beautiful, delicate bun secured in the nape of her neck nestling between her ear and shoulder. The ultra-feminine style allowed the stunning back of her dress to be displayed in all of its glory.
“It’s perfect,” she grinned, touching it lightly before he swatted her hand away.
Standing up, Charlotte examined her eyes in the mirror again.
“I’ve been so busy today, I haven’t even had a chance to talk to Myles,” she said, opening the packet of false eyelashes, spreading them out on the countertop.
“He is at my house with Trevor and Jax,” Chelsea informed, smoothing out her extra wavy hair laced in curls.
Holding her stomach at the mention of his name, Alivia closed her eyes mentally pushing herself to suck it up. Sitting down beside her, Chelsea sat quietly a moment. She had been quiet for the better part of the day and Alivia knew that her best friend was equal parts concerned about her and mad as hell because she had been avoiding her all week.
“Are you okay?”
Glancing at her sideways while the makeup artist held her eye hostage against her face, she nodded.
“I’ll be okay.”
Just not today.
Reaching out for Chelsea’s hand, she held it, unable to move her face.
“I know I’ve been dodging you lately Chels, but the truth is, I’ve just been really preoccupied. I’m sorry.”
Preoccupied with things like forcing herself to deal with Jax betraying her again and setting up a family reunion for Chelsea. She despised lying to her, but she couldn’t let the tears fall. Not tonight. She was having a difficult time of doing that on her own, aside from completely unraveling because Chelsea wanted to discuss the ending of her marriage and the hundred reasons why she needed to talk to Jax. But she had been there already. Done that, and she couldn’t go through it again.
“I’m proud of you,” Chelsea said making her feel worse for lying. “You know that?”
Chelsea’s arms wrapped around her in a long hug telling her just how proud she was, as Alivia apologized again for shutting her out. Closing her eyes tightly, she relished in the genuine hug. One that felt so much like Mrs. Shaw’s.
False Start (Mavericks #1) Page 33
