This man of mine has been underestimated professionally and personally for far too long. I make myself a silent vow to never doubt his strength again.
Shaun’s new girlfriend Miranda is here, and this is the first time I’m meeting her. She comes rushing up to introduce herself to me.
“Oh my God. Juliette Fletcher. I can’t believe I’m actually here in the same room with you.” She fawns all over me. “I’ve followed your story from the very beginning. It’s so romantic. Is Evan really as sweet as they say? He’s so dreamy. You’re so lucky.”
Willow, Carlo’s wife, comes to my rescue. “Miranda, leave poor Juliette alone. In this room, you’re not a fan and you’re not a groupie. Just because you’ve seen her picture in the news doesn’t mean you actually know her. If you pull out a camera and try to take a selfie with her, I’m booting you out. Are we cool?”
She nods and backs off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean ... it’s just that this is my first time ... I promise I won’t say a word about the baby or the homicide investigation.” She gestures the universal symbol for locking her mouth closed and throwing the key away.
Willow and I find a quiet corner away from the others where I can vent a little. “Jeez. I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with that shit here. I guess you heard too?”
“Girl, it’s pretty hard to miss. It’s all over the news, Facebook, and Twitter. How are you holding up?” she asks.
“I’ve been better,” I admit honestly. “But Evan and I will be fine. We’ll get through this together and we’ll be stronger for it.”
Callie comes over with a glass of white wine. “Here. It’s a Riesling from the Renault Winery just down the road. I think you’ll enjoy it.” There’s something magical about a nice glass of wine. My relationship with wine is long and complicated, but one thing is for sure - sipping a glass of wine with friends and family is one of life's greatest pleasures.
Despite the cold January weather, we all bundle up and find a seat on the observation deck just as the Sentinels prepare to take the field. The Jumbotron is showing ten second clips of some of this year’s most important players.
Among the first is wide receiver Carlo Rivera. Willow’s entire face lights up with pride and appreciation for her husband. The crowd hoots and hollers when they see their favorite player.
It’s not until the final and most important member of the team is shown that the stadium erupts into deafening cheers. There, bigger than life, is the image of Evan “Big Mac” McGuire, smiling brightly for the camera. Momentary glimpses of some plays from the season flash by and I get all warm inside just watching him with the football in his hand, muscles tense as he brings the ball back and releases it with incredible force and precision. Callie squeezes my hand as we watch.
The final image shows previous footage of the team taking the field. Once the announcer welcomes everyone to the game, his voice goes quiet and music fills the stadium. Lil Jon’s voice booms echoes off the walls, daring the audience to “Turn Down For What” as the team bursts through the tunnel.
The cheerleaders and Sentinels’ mascot lead the team onto the field, and my eyes follow #16 as he jogs across the field and takes his place on the sidelines. Nervous energy takes hold, and everyone in the box stands and cheers enthusiastically.
Everyone is watching with bated breath as Evan prepares to face off against his former teammates. When the score is tied 0-0 at the end of the first quarter, it becomes clear that it’s going to be a close game, with both teams fighting for every yard.
As the clock ticks down toward half time, Evan connects with Carlo. “Run, run, run, baby, run!” Willow screams, jumping up and down. Carlo advances the ball twenty-six yards, putting the Sentinels in scoring position.
There are mere seconds left on the clock, and only enough time for one last play. The ball snaps and Evan scans the field for an opening, finding Running Back Xander Parish deep in the end zone and without cover. Evan fires a rocket right into the deft hands of his teammate, and the Sentinels score the first touchdown of the game. Raucous applause reverberates throughout the stadium.
“Yes!” I jump, and scream, and laugh. “Touchdown, baby!” I watch in pure delight as Evan jogs toward the sidelines, high-fiving and fist-bumping his teammates. I can’t seem to stop smiling.
Special teams take the field, led by place kicker Troy Duffy. Troy lines up to kick the extra point and the kick sails wide right. The first half ends with the Sentinels in the lead, six-zero.
It’s not until half time that I finally get to see Adam. He comes up to collect Evan’s phone. “Um, Jette, do you think we could talk?” he asks.
“Sure, Sparky. What’s going on?”
“I think you know what’s going on.” He scans the room, which is full of prying eyes and eager ears. “Let’s head down to one of the conference rooms.”
Adam leads me through the complex of hallways and locked doors, deep in the bowels of the stadium beneath the field and crowds. We take a seat at a conference table in one of the many offices, and Adam looks completely defeated, like someone knocked the wind right out of his sails.
I take his hand in mine and ask, “How are you holding up?”
“Not too bad,” he admits.
“I’m sorry about the police bringing you in for questioning. I hope it wasn’t too bad.”
“No, not really. We were done in less than an hour.”
“Does Evan know about the press leak?”
Adam shakes his head. “No. There were a few close calls, but so far he’s been kept out of it. But I have to tell you, my phone’s been blowing up with requests for statements and interviews. There’s a lot of speculation about all of it. How do you feel about going public?”
“Well, that would depend. When? Where? And with who?”
“How about tomorrow, on Night After Night with Joey Griffin? Evan hasn’t been on in a while, and with the history they have together, it should go smoothly.”
It does make sense, and frankly, I’m surprised I haven’t thought of it before. “But aren’t you supposed to get the paternity test results tomorrow?” I ask.
“That’s what we have Gavin for.” Adam takes a deep breath, trying to push down the stress that’s creeping toward the surface.
“Okay, then. Do they want to interview Evan or both of us?” Evan’s done this countless times before, but I’ve never been interviewed by anyone (other than the police).
“Both of you. There are questions out there about David and why the police are questioning you that I’d like you to clear up. How honest are you willing to get? Are you ready to put yourself out there?”
If someone had asked me that question yesterday, they would have gotten a very different answer. Without doubt or hesitation, I tell him, “Bring it on.”
Together we call Joey’s production manager and go over all the details. There will be no drinking game like last time. In fact, Evan will be Joey’s first guest of the night and I will be the second. Since there are only two feature guests, his entire show will be dedicated to us.
Once all the plans are solidified, Adam texts Joey to let him know it’s a done deal, but asks him not to reach out to Evan. Not just yet, anyway.
Adam delivers me back to the suite near the end of the fourth quarter. I have to give Callie an immediate update, but other than that, the rest of the guests are far more interested in the game than in my mysterious disappearance. I look up at the scoreboard and see that the score is now tied 6-6. No wonder no one is paying any attention to me whatsoever.
I take my seat beside Callie and watch with the eyes of a die-hard fan as Evan and the offensive line take the field. Even if there were no numbers on the uniforms, I would be able to spot Evan from a mile away. The broad set of his shoulders, tight hips, and his confident stride make him unmistakable.
The Sentinels struggle against the Texans’ aggressive defense. Evan scrambles inside the pocket, looking for a receiver. There are huge men who smell blood comin
g after him. He drops back and tosses the ball away when one of the defensive ends takes him down. I hold my breath as I watch in absolute terror. It feels like time stands still as I wait for the pack to clear and Evan to find his footing again.
The next play isn’t much better, and Evan is tackled to the ground after throwing an incomplete pass. They’re falling apart and I can see there’s nothing Evan can do to stop it.
After failing to make a first down, possession passes to the Texans. Evan walks over to the sidelines and engages one of the coaches in a heated discussion. He’s fighting hard for his team and he needs more protection out there if he’s going to make some plays.
It gets nearer to the final whistle blow of the game, and as we prepare to enter overtime, the unthinkable happens. The Houston Texans use their final play to score a field goal from the fifty-yard line, making the final score Houston 9, Sentinels 6.
Evan’s hopes of winning a conference title and making it to the big game have just evaporated before our eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A Penny For Your Thoughts
Adam is a magician. Somehow he is able to sneak Evan out of the locker room, bypassing the ferocious and zealous desire of the reporters to get to him first. The team shower room sits between two rooms – the locker room and the athletic training room. Adam escorts him from the team showers directly to the privacy of the training room. By the time I arrive, guided by a polite young intern, Evan is fully dressed and sitting calmly talking with Adam.
I bite my lip and take a few apprehensive steps toward them. Casually dressed in jeans and a black V-neck tee, Evan is freshly showered and looking surprisingly relaxed and at ease.
Evan turns and looks at me, locking his eyes with mine. All I can think about is running across the room and throwing my arms around him in a protective embrace.
“Hey, there you are.” He charges over to where I stand and wraps his arms around me, lifting me off the floor.
I look over at Adam, wondering if he’s broken the news yet. Adam nods his head and gives me a thumbs up.
“Um, Evan, you’re in a surprisingly good mood.”
“Juliette, what’s not to be happy about? As a rookie quarterback, I just took my team to the playoffs and brought home a two million dollar bonus. You’re back home with me, where you belong, and very soon, one of us,” he looks over toward Adam, “will become a father. I think we need to celebrate.”
“Well, then – what are we standing around here for? Let’s get outta here!” Adam jumps to his feet. “Where to?”
Evan looks down at me and asks, “Juliette?”
“Rush. Definitely. I’m done hiding. I want to see my friends, and I haven’t been there in days.”
Evan sweeps me into his arms, lifts me off my feet, and announces, “That’s my girl!”
Adam leads us through a maze of dark, dimly lit hallways until we reach the private parking garage where his SUV awaits. Adam has become accustomed to chauffeuring us around and doesn’t seem to mind in the least when Evan climbs into the back seat with me, leaving him alone in the front.
As we drive north toward Asbury, we discuss the plans for tomorrow’s interview. Evan has to find the right balance between respect toward Laci and honesty about their history. But I’m sure he’ll do just fine. It’s my interview that needs the most prep work. Do I underplay the recent events involving David, or completely open up and put it all out there?
Evan has his arm around me, his thumb making tiny circles on the back of my shoulder, and I immediately relax into his gentle touch. “Baby, take it from me, the press has a way of finding everything out, especially the stuff you don’t want them to know. Let it come from you. Be brutally honest. Joey won’t push you too hard, so if you panic, he’ll be able to change the topic.”
We pull up to the restaurant and I feel confident in our plan. Really, we have only one thing to remember – tell the truth. That way, no matter what happens, we can’t make a mistake.
The minute we walk into the bar, Evan is assaulted with congratulations. Friends and strangers push toward him, all muttering words of encouragement and support.
“You played an amazing game today, Mac.”
“We’re going all the way next year.”
“Those refs made some horrible calls, man.”
“You have to play in the Pro Bowl now.”
That last comment is a shock to the system. Mentally, I’ve been preparing myself for the fact that Evan’s season just ended, and now I’m presented with the possibility of yet another game.
While Evan mingles, I grab Marcus, and together we clear a few tables and pull them together for our little group. “Do you think you can get Camilla down here?” I ask. “It would be great to have the whole gang together.”
Marcus grins and points at the bar. There’s his wife, sitting at the bar, chatting with Emmy and Blaine.
“I just told the girls we’re closing the kitchen,” Marcus proudly explains. “As soon as Reese cleans up, she’ll be out here too.”
“And Derek?” I ask. “Has anyone heard from him?”
“Yeah, I got a hold of him right before kick-off. He’s with Shea. The press showed up at her parents’ house and he ran down there to help.”
“I had a feeling. Well, Derek’s been through this more than once with Evan and me, so I’m sure he knows how to handle the situation.”
Marcus agrees. “I told him to call me if he needed to move the family. I offered to drive up there with my truck and bring them all down here, or wherever they wanted to go. He never called back, so I guess they just hunkered down to wait it out.”
I watch as Adam makes his way over to the bar to see his girl. Emmy’s entire face lights up like the tree at Rockefeller Center the moment she sees him. She goes running out from behind the bar, throwing herself into his ready arms. She plants kisses all over his face as he grins from ear to ear.
Blaine’s head pops up from behind the bar, grinning devilishly. The television and music controls are behind the bar, and he thinks it would be a good idea to turn on ESPN’s post-game analysis while pumping classic rock music through the bar. Marcus joins in the antics and turns down the lights, instantly transforming the restaurant into a nightclub.
I make my way over to Emmy, who’s deep in conversation with Adam. “I got this covered, Em. Go sit down. You’ve been on your feet all day.”
For once she doesn’t fight or argue with me. She hands me her bar rag and her apron, and follows Adam over to our reserved table. Emmy is practically sitting on his lap as they chat and discuss the events of the day.
Marcus grins when he spots me behind the bar. “You sure you know what you’re doing back there, boss?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I can handle it. I was trained by the best bartender I know,” I remind him.
He takes Camilla by the hand and whisks her away, eagerly joining Emmy and Adam at our table. He’s had a long day too, and I’m sure he’s glad to be off his feet.
My first order is for a round of Fireball Shooters. It’s a simple drink to make, and it gives me a chance to practice my flair moves. I try a simple spin and flip move with the rum bottle, and the guests at the bar whoop and howl when I pull it off.
I feel a pair of strong hands on my hips, and a familiar voice whispers in my ear, “I could watch you all night long.”
I back up just enough to make physical contact and wiggle my bottom against him. “Keep talking to me like that and I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”
He gives me a playful slap on the ass and heads right over to Blaine. I watch out of the corner of my eye as the two men talk quietly. I see Blaine nod his head, speak a few words to Evan, shake his hand, and walk away without saying a word to me.
As I stand at the beer tap, I watch Evan take an order from a pair of giddy girls. He checks their ID and flirts with them a little. Then I see him line up a few glasses. Holy cow – he thinks he’s going to make them drinks
. “Hey, Chief,” I call to him, “whatcha doin?”
“These two lovely young ladies here asked for Alabama Slammers,” he turns and smiles at them, “so I’m making them a Malibu Bay Breeze instead.” The girls giggle and seem perfectly happy with their arrangement.
“Oh, really?”
“I told them they could wait for you to make them an Alabama Slammer or they could let me make them something else.”
“We don’t mind,” one of the girls crows.
“Not one bit,” her friend confirms, staring dreamily at the star quarterback.
Evan pushes a few buttons on the cash register and actually completes his sale. After pouring and serving a few more beers, I make my way over to him and ask, “How long do you plan on staying back here?” He raises an eyebrow at me. “And what did you do with Blaine?”
“Well, I thought Marcus could use a break, so Blaine’s working the floor, helping the waitresses.” He whispers in my ear, “Is this going to be a problem?”
Ready to have some innocent fun with my man, I tell him, “No problem here. So long as you can keep up with me, that is.” I take my bar rag and snap him on the ass with it.
Working beside Evan is more fun that I could have imagined. He finds excuses to rub up against me, pretending to look for bottles that are in my speed rack, and grabbing my ass every chance he gets. Of course, when he bends deep into the reach-in cooler to grab a cold beer, I can’t resist getting a little grabby myself.
Evan does his best, but more than once his measurement is off, so even though he’s trying to make two shots, he winds up making four. Rather than waste the fine stock, he brings me one and we do a shot together.
Running Away With You (Running #3) Page 39
