Running Away With You (Running #3)

by Suzanne Sweeney

  “So Evan, how many bids did you make?” I ask out of curiosity.

  “Just one,” he tells me. “But don’t worry, I made a very healthy offer.” He doesn’t give any more information. I can’t wait to see what he bid on.

  Throughout dinner a steady stream of men and women in smartly tailored dinner jackets and beautiful evening gowns stop by the table, keen to meet Evan and Joey, shake their hands, and exchange pleasantries.

  After dinner, the auction begins, featuring Unicef-inspired gifts such as mosquito netting and an SUV built for rural areas, as well as a private dinner for twelve cooked by Marcus Samuelsson and tickets to Watch What Happens Live and cocktails with Andy Cohen. Mikimoto, Zagliani, Le Cirque, and Barneys donated items for the silent auction too. I haven’t heard Evan’s name called for any of them, and I’m surprised. There are just a few items left to award.

  On the large screen, I see the next item to be auctioned, a stunning display of Baccarat crystal snowflakes, seven in all. Each one different and unique.

  Evan puts his arm around the back of my chair and begins to rub his thumb in tiny circles on my shoulder. I can feel his grin, wide and mischievous. Sure enough, when they call the winning bid, it is awarded to Evan McGuire at a whopping price of $10,000. I look at him in complete amazement. “That’s the one item you bid on? Crystal snowflakes?”

  He gives a cursory nod, and then smiles winningly at me. “It’s the only thing I wanted, Juliette. This will be our first Christmas together, and when I saw the snowflakes, I knew they would make the perfect decorations on our very first Christmas tree.”

  I look at him and smile, so ecstatically happy that I want to hug myself. Once again he’s demonstrated how thoughtful and attentive he is, reminding me how lucky I am.

  Just when I think tonight cannot get any better, the lights dim and Katy Perry takes the stage in a glittering gold Michael Kors gown to perform her hit single "Unconditionally”, which she says was inspired by a Unicef trip she took to Madagascar.

  Feigning interest in the performance, Evan puts his hand on my knee and his fingers travel up my thigh. My breathing hitches and I press my thighs together in an attempt to halt his progress. I can see him smirk. He whispers in my ear, “Knowing you’re sitting here completely naked under that dress is driving me mad. I think it’s time to go home, beautiful.”

  “Lead the way, Bossy Man.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Coming Apart at the Seams

  We have a routine for team travel days. Sleep in late. Cook a big, hot breakfast. Lounge around the house wearing as little clothing as possible. Pack an overnight bag. Watch Sports Center for early predictions. Leave the house by noon.

  I curl up on the couch under Evan’s protective arm, enjoying the closeness and intimacy. We’re listening to the game predictions and Evan’s a little anxious. Tomorrow he’ll go up against the Broncos in Denver. The teams are pretty evenly matched.

  Even though I would like nothing more than to take a weekend trip to Denver, we decided together at the beginning of the season that I wouldn’t travel with the team this year. I have a new restaurant and bar to run, and that requires a sincere commitment of time and energy. Besides, I can’t stay in the hotel room with Evan or really spend any time with him at all. His time is consumed preparing for the game.

  Reese and I toyed with the idea of flying out together to Denver to see the game and spend time with our old gang from college. Plenty of them are still out there, and we’d have no problem finding things to do. But when Evan and I decided to go to the Snowflake Ball, I had no choice but to cancel my travel plans. It seemed like the responsible thing to do at the time.

  My cell phone pings with an incoming message, so I slip from Evan’s warm embrace and scurry into the kitchen to find my phone.

  Auggie: Did he leave yet? Want me to come over?

  Jette: No. Not yet. I’ll call.

  “Who’s that?” Evan stands behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and leaning his chin on my shoulder. He tickles my ear with his nose.

  “That was Auggie. He wanted to thank me for the picture of Adrien Brody’s ass from last night.” It’s not a complete lie. I put the phone down on the counter and turn around, stand on my tippy toes, and press my lips against his. “I’m going to miss you,” I whisper.

  He covers my mouth with his beautiful sculpted lips, and his mouth moves softly but urgently over mine. He pulls back and I look up at him, seeing his dazzling blue eyes staring down at me. He tilts my jaw up and gently presses his lips against mine once more before releasing me. “Not half as much as I’m going to miss you.”

  Evan turns and walks down the hallway to our bedroom to get dressed. It’s nearly time for him to leave. He emerges smartly dressed, carrying his camel leather overnight duffle. I follow him to the door.

  “Okay, listen. If you’re able to get out for dinner, you have to go to Euclid Hall. It’s not far from the stadium. For breakfast, you need to go to Snooze. They have the most amazing breakfast menu. You’ll love it. But call ahead if you’re taking some of the guys. There’s usually a pretty long wait, and I’m sure they’d clear a table for you.”

  “Juliette, I’ve been to Denver before, baby. I’m good.” He puts the bag down and sweeps me up in his arms for one final kiss goodbye.

  When Evan steps onto the front porch to leave, he notices the mail has arrived. He reaches in, grabs the stack, and skims through the junk mail before he discovers another large manila envelope. “Juliette, here’s something addressed to you.” He hands me the envelope along with the rest of the mail, turns around, and walks to his car, completely unsuspecting of the contents that are most likely enclosed within that unmarked envelope.

  He waves to me as he drives away. I hurry into the house and find a sharp knife to open the envelope.

  I lay the envelope on the kitchen island, slit the top, and slide out the contents. It’s a printout of a still frame image obviously cut from the same video. The quality is grainy but decipherable. It’s another picture of me. I’m still naked, seated on the old red club chair, but this time there’s another person in the frame with me. You can’t see anything above his shoulders, so there’s no recognizable face. But what is visible is the erection I’m holding in my hand. It appears I’m bringing it toward my lips. It makes me physically ill when I see it.

  Unable to stand the sight of it, I turn it over and slam it onto the counter. A hand-written Post-it note is stuck to the back. In typical male handwriting, entirely comprised of scratchy capital letters, is an invitation.

  Fuck. I need to end this. My head is spinning, my heart rate has quickened, and I have a sudden need to run – fast and hard. To get away from this situation as quickly as humanly possible. To clear my head.

  It’s December now, so it’s fairly cold out. I change into my running clothes, layered to keep warm. I grab my iPod, plug in my headphones, and head out to for a beach run. The deck is empty; all the furniture’s been put away for the season. I do a few stretches and glance up and down the shoreline. It’s clear sailing for as far as the eye can see.

  I decide to head south today, away from the boardwalk. I think I’m going to take a long run this time, and I don’t want to be anywhere near the boardwalk. I’m in the mood for quiet solitude.

  The surf is extremely active today, waves rolling and crashing along the surf. The sky is a vivid blue, with a few wispy clouds moving sluggishly across the horizon.

  The first song up as I begin my slow plod down the beach is a OneRepublic favorite of mine. It’s got a steady beat that I can use to set my pace as I listen to the lyrics about how “Love Runs Out”. I really thought David loved me. I sincerely believed that I loved him. Although now that I know what it’s like to be truly loved and cherished, I don’t know how I could have mistaken what we had for love.

  He wants to talk and I’m not sure what I should do. I have to be smart about this. He’s trying to scare me, and I hate to admit it, but
it’s working. He’s been mean, cruel, and demanding, but he never physically hurt me. Would meeting with him be dangerous? Deep down inside, I don’t think so.

  But is it worth the chance? No.

  The first person to come to mind is Auggie. He knows about yesterday’s delivery. He would do anything I asked of him, I’m certain. But would it be fair of me to ask him to fly to Denver on a moment’s notice? It was hard enough to get him to fly home after the accident. Hell, he wouldn’t even fly to LA with Lucas. I think it would be selfish of me to ask.

  I could ask Reese. She knows David and what he’s capable of. David has already reached out to her, so in a way, she’s been involved since the beginning. Flying with her to Denver would make things easy, that’s for sure. She knows her way around town and she also knows exactly where David lives. But I hate involving other people in my drama.

  There’s always Derek. Goodness knows he can afford to take a few days off from work now. But how would Evan feel if he found out I’d reached out to Derek first? It would certainly open up old wounds. Besides, Derek’s got a new girlfriend in his life and I don’t think it would be fair of me to insert myself back into his life in that way.

  Out of options, my mind stills, so I run, and run, and run, hoping the answer will come to me. My legs begin to burn, but I push through the pain. I can feel my muscles cramping, but I refuse to slow. I no longer get tired or winded like I used to, so I just keep running. It’s easier in the winter. The sand is cold, hard, and firm now, so it feels more like running on the street. I feel like I could go forever.

  When I get to the houses in Mantoloking, I know I’ve run at least three miles. I check my watch and it’s been over thirty minutes. Time to turn around.

  As I continue my run, it occurs to me that I have a plethora of friends back in Denver. I could pay a surprise visit to Sara and Ben. They were supportive throughout some of my darkest times with David. I don’t need to involve anyone here at home. This way, there’s only a slight possibility that Evan will find out. If I tell Auggie, Reese, or even Derek, there’s a pretty good chance they’ll eventually crack and tell him.

  The last thing I want to do is distract Evan from his work. It’s looking exceptionally good for the Sentinels this season. Evan might even lead his team to the division playoffs. He’s got the lives and careers of nearly one hundred people in his hands, literally. He’s got a greater responsibility to them and to his fans to remain singularly focused.

  I have the beginning of a plan and it feels good. I can fly out to Denver today. I’ll have to use Evan’s Visa to buy the tickets – I doubt there’s enough money in the business account to cover the cost of last-minute plane tickets.

  I’ll have to make arrangements for someone to take Maddy, so I’ll tell everyone I’m flying out to surprise Evan. I’ll call him when I arrive. He knows I have a long list of friends I’d like to visit with, so if I disappear in Denver for a short while, it should be easily explainable.

  By the time I see our home along the horizon, I finally begin to feel some sense of control. This could work. It has to work.

  I begin to slow my pace. I check my watch, and I’ve been running for a little over an hour. My legs feel like spaghetti when I finally reach my back door. I slide it open and I’m immediately greeted by Maddy, who’s happy to see me. I’ve just bent down to pet her when a low, deep voice jars me from my daze.

  “We need to talk about this.”

  Shit.

  Slowly, I raise my head to see where the voice is coming from. Sitting at my kitchen counter and holding the photograph is the last person I expected to see right now – Adam.

  “Dammit Sparky, you scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing here?” The best defense is a strong offense, and at this point I have nothing to lose. So I walk over to him, rip the photo from his grip, and toss it onto the counter, out of his reach. Then I head to the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of cold water, which I desperately need right now.

  “Mac called me and asked me to stop by to get his notes for tomorrow’s game. Imagine my surprise when I found your centerfold instead. Does Mac know about this?”

  “No, of course not. And I’d appreciate it if it stays that way,” I bite back, leaning on the counter.

  “Well if you want me to protect your little secret, or whatever this is, you’re going to have to give me a pretty damned good reason.” He places his hands over mine. “Jette, talk to me. Let me help. Who is D?”

  I pull my hand away and turn, staring out the window, watching the crashing waves churning up the surf. “Adam, please don’t do this. I can handle it.” I look down and notice my hands are actually shaking. I don’t know if I can handle this, but I desperately want Adam to believe that I can.

  “Fine, don’t tell me. I’m sure I can connect the dots all by myself.” He picks up the picture to examine it more closely. “This wasn’t taken recently. You’ve lost weight since this was taken. It’s blurry and slightly out of focus, and your eyes are half closed, so I’d guess this is a cut from a video. Either you thought this was a private video or you didn’t know you were being taped. And I can’t imagine you would let someone stand there with a camera taping you like this. Am I close?”

  I mumble, “I didn’t know.”

  “Is D someone you used to ... know?”

  “His name is David. We dated all through college.” I grab the picture and shove it back into the envelope, completely ashamed and mortified. “He still lives in Denver. I’m flying out there to see what he wants. If Evan finds out ... ”

  “No, you’re right. Evan would be homicidal if he saw this. But it’s me he would kill if he found out that I didn’t stop you. You know I can’t let you go out there alone like this.”

  I look up at him as tears begin to well in my eyes. “Then come with me.”

  Adam drives the rental car through the streets of Denver while I send David a text to let him know I’m ready to talk. I deleted his number from my phone long ago, but it hasn’t been long enough for me to forget. I can still dial his number with my eyes closed.

  One of our biggest fights happened when my cell phone died and I couldn’t call him to let him know where I was. He made me memorize his number so I could call him at any time from anyone’s phone. He would even quiz me every once in a while, just to remind me that I had no excuse to keep me from calling and checking in.

  “So Sparky, what should I say when he texts me back? Do I invite him to my hotel room? Do I meet him at his place?”

  “No way,” he tells me sternly. “You meet him in public. Pick a restaurant that has a bar. I’ll sit at the bar and you can sit at a table next to the bar so I can listen. We don’t want to scare him off.”

  Sure enough, within moments of my text, David responds.

  David: welcome home kitten. let’s talk in private. my place.

  Jette: public. highland tavern. 7PM.

  David: come alone

  Jette: fine

  We check into a hotel close to the stadium and head directly to the tavern. I enter the bar alone and ask the hostess if I can be seated close to the bar. She brings me to a high-top table that is only two steps away from the bar. It’s perfect. I make sure to choose a seat facing the bar so I can keep a constant eye on Adam.

  I send Adam a text telling him to come sit at the bar right away. There’s an empty seat directly across from my table. There are two large mirrors behind the bartenders, so even though Adam sits facing the bar, he can see me in the reflection.

  While I wait for David to arrive, I send out a text to Auggie letting him know we’ve landed. He warns me to stay away from David. I laugh out loud a little when I read that. If he only knew!

  “I missed the sound of your laugh, Jette.” I look up and find David standing here smirking at me. “You always had a beautiful laugh.” He pulls out a stool across from me. “May I?”

  I agree. “I would like to get back to my fiancé, so if you don’t mind, let’s
make this quick.”

  David says nothing. He just sits there staring at me with a silly grin on his face. He looks exactly as he did the last time I saw him. He’s wearing his stupid baseball cap and a faded green cargo shirt left unbuttoned and showing off a white wife-beater underneath. A wide smile spreads across his face, and there was a time when that smile was my undoing. But not now. His shallow gray eyes betray him, revealing his true self, as cold as steel.

  A waitress comes over to take our drink order. “I’ll take a Black and Tan, and the lady would like a vodka and cranberry.”

  It’s like no time at all has passed between us. He thinks he knows what I want and what I need. Nothing could be further from the truth. As the waitress turns to fill our drink orders, I stop her.

  “Excuse me, miss, I’m sorry but my friend here has me confused with someone named Kitten. I’d like a Moscow Mule, if it’s not too much trouble. Thank you so much.”

  As soon as the waitress is out of earshot, David turns to me. “Well, you’ve certainly grown a pair since the last time I saw you. I must say, it doesn’t become you.”

  “I’m sorry to hear you feel that way. I was so hoping we could pick up where we left off,” I tell him sardonically. “Let’s cut the crap, David. You got me out here – why don’t you just tell me what you want?”

  “Fair enough. You were always very cut-and-dried, Kitten. It’s one of your least appealing qualities.” He lets that remark hang in the air for a moment before he continues. “So, here’s the deal. I’m sure Reese told you that I’m starting my own web design company. Well, I hit a little snag in securing the startup funds. I’m looking for a top-of-the-line computer, color image scanner, and the best graphic design package money can buy.”

  “And if I help you get those things, you’ll leave me alone?” I ask.

  Before he can answer, the waitress returns with our drinks. We sit silently, sizing each other up. I’m sure she can sense the tension between us. You’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to pick up on it. As she places David’s beer in front of him, he reaches out and runs his hand up her arm. “Thank you, sweetie.” He puts a five-dollar bill on her serving tray. “Don’t forget to come back and check on us.”