Running Away With You (Running #3)

by Suzanne Sweeney

  I can’t blame the poor delivery boy. They probably should have told him it was a movie shoot.

  “Tell them about the explosion scene,” Auggie urges.

  “Oh, that’s a good one too! Another day we were filming a scene, still in Vancouver, where the other actors had to drop me from the roof of a building in order to escape an explosion. The director told me they would drop me on the count of three. What I didn’t know was that the rest of the crew was told to drop me on a count of two. One of the extras taped it with his cell phone and sent it to Auggie.”

  “I saw the footage, and the expression on his face is priceless,” Auggie adds. He takes a big helping of the spinach and artichoke dip, and then mentions, “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. You have an appointment with Daisy Shea. She’s the wedding planner you asked me to hook you up with. She’s coming to Rush tomorrow at noon.”

  Reese stops what she’s doing to ask, “Wedding planner? Really?”

  “We kind of have no choice,” I tell her. “Evan and I can’t make any plans without it making the five o’clock news. I want my day to be perfect, and I think this is the only way to make that happen.”

  She nods her head in agreement. “Got it.”

  Finally it’s time to serve the turkey. Reese is a trained chef and knows exactly how to carve a bird, but as the head of the house, tradition dictates that Evan be permitted to carve the turkey. Reese doesn’t like it, but she offers to talk Evan through his virginal attempt at turkey-carving.

  By the time Evan is done, there is nearly as much turkey left on the carcass as there is on the plate, but I don’t dare say a word. When Evan proudly hands me the plate, he is beaming with delight. Reese whispers in my ear, “Don’t worry. I’ll clean up the rest for leftovers.”

  Just as the final serving dish is placed on the table, the front door swings open. Emmy and Adam have finally arrived. We scurry to greet them and get everyone seated at the table while the food is still hot. Evan opens a bottle of Pinot Grigio and fills every glass. I walk around with a pitcher to fill everyone’s second glass with ice water.

  Couples are seated next to each other, leaving Derek and Reese to sit side by side. As I pour his glass of water, I notice Derek reaching for the sweet potatoes. Reese reaches over and slaps his hand without a word. She knows no one touches anything until after the blessing. Derek just shrugs and smirks.

  Once I’ve taken my seat beside Evan, he stands with a drink in one hand and my hand in the other. Everyone reciprocates by raising a glass.

  “I’d like to make this short and simple. Juliette and Reese have prepared this amazing meal and I’m sure they would like us to enjoy it while it’s hot. As I look around this table, I see the faces of my dearest friends, and each one of us has something very special to be thankful for.” Evan looks down at me, smiles, and squeezes my hand. “May plenty, peace, and prosperity be ours to share today and always.” Everyone tips their glasses together and drinks.

  Evan taps my foot under the table, and when I look up at him he tilts his head toward Emmy, who is sitting directly across from me. At first it doesn’t register, but when Evan covertly taps his wine glass, I see that she’s drinking from her water glass. She didn’t toast with wine. My wheels are spinning, but not for long.

  Before anyone has a chance to eat, Adam stands up, tapping his glass with a fork to get everyone’s attention. Once we’ve all quieted down, he puts the glass and fork down, takes Emmy’s hand, and pulls her up to stand beside him. “Emmy and I have an announcement we’d like to make tonight. The reason we were late is that ... ah ... Um, we wanted you to be the first to know ... well, not exactly the first. The truth is,” he pauses, struggling to find the right words, “we have something special to be thankful for this year.”

  “I’m pregnant!” Emmy blurts out. Everyone rushes to congratulate them, fighting to get close enough for a hug. Emmy is beaming with joy and Adam looks like he’s about to throw up.

  After the excitement dies down, we all take our seats and fill our plates, tossing question after question toward them.

  Emmy is eight weeks pregnant. Before telling their friends, they wanted to see Emmy’s parents and tell them first. Adam’s family is in Delaware, so they’ll be driving there tomorrow. There are no immediate wedding plans. They won’t even discuss it until after the baby is born. “I don’t want Adam to feel like he has to marry me, so when he proposed, I said no. But if he still wants to marry me, he can ask again in exactly one year.” She leans over and kisses Adam. “And if I want to marry him, I’ll say yes.”

  God, I wish I could be more like Emmy. Simple solutions to complex problems. She rarely overthinks things; she just accepts challenges without getting caught up in the drama. She’ll make a great mom. And overprotective Adam will make a great dad.

  As we listen to Emmy and Adam discussing the prospect of parenthood, Evan slips his leg under mine so our legs are resting together. The need for constant contact is nearly overwhelming.

  “So Emmy, how do you feel?” I ask as I pass the gravy.

  “So far, so good. A little tired, but the doctor says that’s normal. She says little Bean is doing great. We got to hear the heartbeat and everything.”

  “Bean?” I repeat.

  “Yeah – Bean as in kidney bean. That’s how big the baby is right now,” she clarifies. “We’re going to call the baby Bean until it’s born. We don’t want to know if it’s a boy or a girl. We want to be surprised.”

  Evan rubs his leg affectionately up and down my calf.

  When we’ve finished dinner, the girls band together to clear the table quickly. Emmy is assigned dishwasher duty. I bring her a stack of dishes and pause to scrape the plates into the garbage disposal. “So Jette, how cool would it be if you and Evan started a family? Our kids could grow up together and be best friends.”

  “Oh Emmy, I don’t think Evan and I are ready for that. Not anytime soon, anyway. We’re just figuring out this couple thing.”

  “Well, from where I’m standing, you two seem to be doing pretty well,” Emmy remarks as she fills the dishwasher. “Maybe I should be talking to Camilla.”

  As if on cue, in walk Camilla and Marcus, just in time for dessert. It’s time for another round of congratulations and explanations.

  Everyone calls out their requests as I plate desserts. Camilla is my runner today, passing out everyone’s special orders. Ice cream on top. Whipped cream. One slice. Two slices. There’s something for everyone, and some enjoy a little bit of everything.

  Evan is a sucker for my cheesecake, and this is the only time of year when I indulge in my favorite, pumpkin pie with fresh homemade whipped cream. I can’t resist the desire to rest my hand on Evan’s leg. He reaches under the table and laces our fingers together. I fumble with my left hand to cut off a piece of pie, scoop up a dollop of whipped cream, and gracefully feed myself. The first bite is scrumptious and I can’t help but let out a small, “Mmm.”

  “Good, right?” Evan teases. He turns to look at me and a smile spreads across his face, dimples and all. He looks at me and laughs.

  “What?” I ask, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

  “You, uh, got a little something.” He reaches out and brushes his thumb over my lip, removing a smidge of whipped cream from the corner of my mouth. He brings his thumb to his mouth to taste, smiles, and leans in to kiss me.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “That, Juliette Fletcher, was a kiss,” he smiles.

  “I know it was, but what was it for?”

  “Do I need to have a reason to kiss you?”

  I smile and give him the simplest of answers, “No,” as I lean in to return the kiss.

  “You two better watch out,” Emmy warns. “That’s how it started with us!” She leans over and plants a big, wet kiss on Adam’s face.

  After dinner, the boys gather back in the living room to watch the Ravens/Steelers game that’s about to start. Auggie and Lucas take a stroll on the beac
h, and the girls help me clean up. I stand back to appreciate the moment. All my favorite people are gathered here today.

  Evan, always the consummate host, leaves the boys to get everyone cold beer from the cooler on the deck. He takes a slight detour and heads straight toward me for a quick kiss. As he turns to walk away, I call to him, “Thank you.”

  He turns in his tracks and looks at me in confusion. “Thank me? For what?”

  “For today. For our first Thanksgiving as a family. For everything.”

  Evan sweeps me up in his arms and squeezes me tight. “I love you, future wife.”

  “I love you, future husband. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  Chapter Six

  A Double Take

  It’s Friday, but the restaurant is quiet today. I suppose everyone is still stuffed from yesterday’s marathon eating. Besides, most people have enough leftovers to feed their family for at least a week. If it were warmer, perhaps more people would venture to the boardwalk to get some exercise, but not today. It’s cold, dreary, and starting to rain.

  We’re running on a skeleton crew. Much of the staff is still visiting with family. Derek’s behind the bar, Reese is in the kitchen, and Lindsay is the only one on the floor. Emmy is on my mind today. They should be on their way to see Adam’s family by now. I can’t help but wonder what kind of reaction they’ll receive. I’ve never met his family, so there’s no way to know. I’m certain Emmy can handle it, no matter what.

  Marcus will be here later for the second shift, leaving me to oversee everything until then. There’s plenty to keep me busy, since it’s Friday, and that means inventory and stock.

  Derek keeps me company while I set up a booth for today’s meeting with Daisy Shea. I have a binder full of ideas – clippings from magazines, mostly. There are also lists, lots of them. Song choices. Flowers in season. Guest lists. Bands, caterers, and venues. Registry listings. I have lists of lists. I place a pitcher of lemon-cucumber water and two wine glasses on the table. It looks perfect.

  Auggie sends me a text at eleven thirty, wishing me luck and warning me. If I have any hopes of getting married this February, I should do my best to win over Daisy Shea. There are no other event planners in the area with her expertise and availability. It’s do or die.

  I’m both nervous and excited. According to Auggie, she’s the best on the East Coast. He’s told her she’ll be handling the wedding of a pair of restaurateurs, Thomas and Evangeline, as in Evan Thomas and Juliette Evangeline. It’s ironic that we’ve reverted to using our middle names to protect our privacy, since Evan used his middle name to hide his true identity from me when we first met. I suppose it’s fitting to use it again now.

  While I wait, I go back to my office to call in some orders for next week. As I page through the liquor inventory Derek left on my desk, my phone rings with Lady Antebellum’s “I Run to You,” and I know right away that it’s Evan calling. He’s at practice right now, so it must be important. “Hey there, Bossy Man. What’s shakin’, bacon?”

  “Well, you sound like you’re in a good mood. I was just calling to wish you luck with the wedding planner. I want you to call me as soon as she leaves, okay?” He’s so sweet and thoughtful.

  “I won’t forget.”

  “Oh, one more thing. Someone from Community Relations is going to call you. Her name is Alyssa and she’s trying to arrange for some players to attend a charity function in a few weeks.”

  Now I’m intrigued. “What kind of function?” I ask.

  “Baby, I don’t know. That’s why I told her to call you. Find out if it’s something you’d like to attend. I usually go to five or six of these things a year. We can’t go to them all – sometimes we have to say no. But this one’s in Manhattan and we can keep close to home.” I hear some shouting in the background. The team must be getting restless. “Listen, baby, I’ve got to run. Good luck. Love you.”

  “Love you too!” I hang up and run out front to check to see if she’s here yet. Derek is alone at the bar watching the Sports Channel. I look around and the place is still pretty empty.

  Derek notices me scanning the room, and he offers, “Not yet. Go finish what you were doing and I’ll come back and get you when she arrives.”

  I nod in agreement and go back to my office. I’m swiping through my list of contacts, looking for our liquor distributor, when my phone rings. It’s a number I don’t recognize, with a New Jersey area code.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “I’m looking for Juliette Fletcher. This is Alyssa Dunham from the New Jersey Sentinels’ Community Relations Office.” This is the call Evan warned me about.

  “This is Juliette. How can I help you?”

  Alyssa tells me that Evan and I have been invited to attend the Unicef Snowflake Ball. It’s a charity event and silent gift auction. She rambles off the names of countless celebrities who have committed to attending.

  Suddenly there’s a knock on the door and Derek peeks his head in. It seems like my appointment has arrived a few minutes early. I ask Alyssa to hold so I can see what Derek wants. “Jette, you’re not going to believe this, but ... ”

  I immediately cut him off, “Derek, please. Go. Entertain her. Keep her occupied. Don’t let her leave. I’ll be there in five minutes. Do this for me.”

  Rather than help, he argues with me, “But you ... ”

  I implore him with my eyes, “Derek, please?! Five minutes?”

  He nods and I return to my conversation with Alyssa. It sounds like a very worthy charity. Last July, I wasn’t able to go with Evan to the ESPYs. It would have been my first red carpet event. Although I got to see Evan all dressed up on television, I didn’t get to see him in person. When I imagine what he must look like in a tuxedo, my mind is made up.

  For the next few minutes, Alyssa goes over the details and I take furious notes. She tells me about the date and time, the workings of a silent auction, the limousine service she’ll arrange for us, and the location of the event. It sounds like a magical night. Evan told me the choice was mine to make, and now I’m starting to get excited.

  I’m floating on cloud nine when I emerge. I look over at the booth I’ve set up, but it’s empty. How long was I on the phone for? I look at my watch and it was definitely no more than ten minutes. Surely Derek could entertain my guest for at least that long.

  I look toward the bar and I find her sitting on a barstool talking animatedly with Derek. The woman sitting there is exotic and beyond gorgeous. Her voluminous black hair falls to the small of her back and her bronze skin glows. When she looks up at me with her almond-shaped eyes and sultry smile, my heart stops. This woman is the spitting image of Laci Keilani. Only it can’t be Laci. She died in a fiery helicopter crash last August.

  She immediately gets up and walks toward me, hand outstretched. Frozen in place, I just stand there dumbfounded. The closer she gets, the more haunting the resemblance. Numbly, I raise my hand to shake. With her other hand, she offers me a business card. “Hello, Evangeline. It’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard such lovely things about you and Thomas from your friend August. Please, take my card. Let’s sit and chat.”

  I nod and lead her toward the booth I’ve set up. As she scoots in, I glance down at the card and notice the name imprinted reads Shea Keilani, Wedding Consultant. Daisy Shea Events”. My wheels are spinning. I’m trying furtively to put the pieces together.

  “You’ve got that look. I get it a lot. Let me explain,” she offers. “My twin sister, Laci, was a reporter on television. We were twins. She died last summer.” As she talks, I can see some stark differences between the two. Both are strikingly beautiful, but there’s a gentle kindness in Shea’s eyes. Laci’s eyes were more determined and icy.

  “I’m sorry,” I stutter. “I thought I was meeting with Daisy Shea today. I didn’t realize ... ”

  “Yes, that happens, too. Daisy Milano is my business partner. She does the corporate events, and I speciali
ze in weddings. We formed Daisy Shea Events about four years ago. I understand you have an event you’d like some help planning.” She smiles warmly at me and I know in an instant she is not the same ice queen as her sister.

  Derek comes over to the table with the unfinished drink Shea left at the bar. He hands it to her, grinning like a schoolboy. Derek really can be sweet and charming when he wants to be. “Is there anything I can get you ladies? I can have the kitchen whip up an appetizer platter if you’d like.”

  “Sure, Derek, that sounds fine,” I tell him. He fills our water glasses and excuses himself. I can see Shea staring up at him as she spreads an array of brochures and albums across the table. Glancing at the photographs she has laid on the table, I know in an instant that she can give me my dream wedding.

  “Let me start by offering my condolences for the loss of your sister. It must have been a terrible shock.”

  A sadness appears on her face, the tragedy still fresh, even these months later. “Thank you. Our family is still grieving. It’s not easy losing a sister, especially a twin.” She takes a big gulp of her wine and then regains her composure. “Tell me about your wedding.”

  “Well, my fiancé and I ran across a few obstacles trying to plan our wedding. Details kept getting leaked to the press, and the last thing we need is for our special day to be ruined by onlookers and paparazzi. We were hoping you could make the arrangements for us without using our names.”

  She looks at me quizzically, unsure what to make of my declaration. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. Do you get attention from the paparazzi often?”

  “Well, they usually leave me alone unless I’m out with my fiancé. He plays in the NFL. I should introduce myself properly. My name is Juliette Evangeline Fletcher and my fiancé’s name is –”

  “Evan Thomas McGuire,” she answers flatly, finishing my sentence for me. But as she does, the color drains from her face, taking away all traces of her smile. She begins muttering to herself as she gathers up her things. “I can’t do this. I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry. I have to leave.” She bumps the table as she tries to get up quickly, knocking over our glasses and spilling water all over our table. I scramble to get my binder safely away from the trailing water.