Running Away With You (Running #3)

by Suzanne Sweeney

  I decide to stay out of the fray and do my best to obtain the utilities. When it becomes apparent that my efforts are in vain, I decide to redirect my attention toward the railroads. Maybe, just maybe, if I play my cards right I can catch the train out of this game and travel far, far away.

  Callie insisted on being the banker, but she refuses to keep the cash organized. Instead it’s in a big pile, all jumbled up. My fingers are twitching, desperate to sort through the chaos.

  All sorts of wheeling and dealing is going on around me. This isn’t a game, it’s war. Rents are quickly rising as houses and hotels are built with no regard for health or safety regulations. All the properties are taken, and I’m left with nothing more than Baltic and Mediterranean.

  After a short trip to the bathroom, I actually have less money than before I left. Evan took my turn for me and landed on Pennsylvania Avenue, complete with two hotels. I didn’t think you could build more than one hotel, but apparently the rules don’t apply to McGuire Monopoly.

  I’m actually relieved this time when I find myself in jail. It’s the safest I’ve felt in hours. Jill is the first to declare bankruptcy, and Evan and Callie quickly claim some sort of inheritance clause, which makes no sense whatsoever.

  Evan is the worst of all, teasing and taunting the remaining players, even my mother as she contemplates selling her properties. He makes her an offer she can’t refuse, and honestly, she should have known better, because in just two short turns, she joins Jill in bankruptcy.

  Our once happy little group has been reduced to a bunch of desperate landowners haggling over hotels and houses.

  In a moment of sheer genius, Callie and I decide to team up, combine our collective holdings, and declare a merger. One by one, we pick off Dean and John, leaving Evan as our final opponent.

  Evan approaches our finest properties, Boardwalk and Park Place. Just as he thinks he’s out-maneuvered us with his high roll, he lands instead on Chance and, wham! He’s given an advance token to Boardwalk. Two hotels. Game over.

  As everyone pitches in to help clean up, I slip into the living room to check my phone. I left it on silent and I’ve missed dozens of texts and calls. The studio started airing teasers right away and apparently we’re big news.

  I swipe through the missed messages and I get a nice snapshot of what’s being aired. Emmy says they talked about my interview on Access Hollywood. Reese heard them discussing it on Entertainment Tonight. And Auggie didn’t mention a specific show, but he says I look stunning on the small screen.

  Slowly, everyone filters into the living room to watch the end of the eleven o’clock news. When my mother joins us, she has her coat and purse in her hand. “Mom, aren’t you staying?” I ask, jumping to my feet.

  “Is there anything you talk about on the show tonight that I don’t already know?” she asks.

  I had a very long and frank phone discussion with her early this morning. “No, nothing.”

  “Then, no. I have no desire to watch you rehash the most painful experience of your life. Watching you suffer while the cameras zoom in on you is not something I’m interested in seeing.”

  Evan jumps to his feet to help my mother put on her coat.

  “Besides,” she adds, “your grandmother is home alone and I really need to go check on her.”

  Not one ever to overstay her welcome, she always finds a reason to slip away. Although in this case, I can’t say I blame her.

  After walking my mother to her car, Evan and I return in the middle of Joey’s monologue. He talks about current events and politics, and for a moment I find myself enjoying the show. That is until he names tonight’s guests. How strange it is to hear my name. Sure, I’ve heard it on television before, but always as is pertains to something Evan is doing. Like when we appear somewhere together or if we’re spotted in public.

  Evan’s interview is first. I’ve seen him interviewed countless times and it’s always the same. There’s not a single camera angle that doesn’t capture how gloriously handsome he is. He is charming, shy, and slightly uncomfortable with all the attention during the interview. I noticed his nervous twitches and mannerisms when the fans in the audience get all worked up over him. Still, he remains humble and very adorable.

  When my interview begins, the only way to describe the experience is to say that it’s like watching yourself in a dream. I’ve had all kinds of weird dreams about speaking in public. In some of them, I was naked. In others, the audience is laughing at me, not with me. This is worse.

  I cringe when I hear my own voice. I whisper to Evan, “Is that really what I sound like?” He looks at me oddly and focuses his attention back to the screen.

  I can’t get over how awkward I look. My legs are crossed, my arms are crossed, and I have a pained expression on my face. “So this is how other people see me?” I say aloud to no one in particular.

  Callie shushes me, and again I am dismissed.

  The McGuires laugh along with the audience in all the right places. As the interview takes a more serious turn, I notice how strongly the studio audience responds to me. This show feels like an episode of Dr. Phil. The camera scans the crowd and focuses on one person, an older woman around my mother’s age, who actually wipes away a tear.

  At that moment, it all becomes clear. Any preoccupation with appearance and mannerisms is irrelevant. I have every reason to look nervous and frightened. I’ve been through hell and back and it shows. I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of and everything to be proud of. I’m a survivor.

  John gets up and turns off the television at the end of the interview. He leaves the room silently and steps out into the backyard. I can see him standing there, alone on the patio, illuminated by the moonlight. Men are fixers, protectors, providers. He knows there’s nothing he can say or do to make the situation better, so he retreats.

  Jill and Callie, on the other hand, remind me how most women are the caregivers and the nurturers. Callie hugs me and tells me over and over how sorry she is that this happened and how proud she is of my strength.

  Jill tries to convince Evan and me to spend the night. After all, it’s over an hour-long drive back home, and who know what will be waiting for us when we arrive. She wants to take care of us, and it’s sweet. But I’m deeply grateful when Evan insists we sleep in our own bed tonight.

  When I open my eyes, the bright light filling the room makes me blink. My head is fuzzy. I haven’t slept like this in too many days.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Evan murmurs, smiling affectionately. He’s lying beside me, fully dressed, on top of the bed. His eyes run up and down my frame, admiring the rise and fall of the sheet, lingering on the curve of my ass under the thin white fabric.

  “Morning,” I murmur, wishing he were under the covers with me. “How long have you been watching me?”

  “Only about five minutes.” He leans over and kisses me gently. “Did you sleep well?” he asks. “Certainly seemed like it to me, with all that snoring.”

  What? “I do not snore!” I promptly point out.

  “No, you don’t.” He grins at me.

  “Did you shower?”

  “No. Waiting for you.”

  Good answer. “What time is it?”

  “Ten o’clock. I didn’t have the heart to wake you earlier. Breakfast is ready – French toast and bacon. Come on, get up, I’m getting lonely out here.” He swats me sharply on my behind, making me jump, and rises from the bed.

  As I stretch, I’m aware I ache all over ... no doubt a result of the long and stressful events of yesterday. I stagger out of bed and make my way into our bathroom while going over the events of the previous day in my mind. When I come out, I toss on my favorite overly fluffy bathrobe, which hangs on a brass peg in the bathroom.

  I wander into the kitchen – no sign of Evan. I take a seat, grateful for the impressive breakfast laid before me. The only thing needed to make this meal perfect, other than having Evan sitting here with me, is to warm up the maple syr
up. Cold syrup could ruin an otherwise mouthwatering meal.

  As I stand at the stove stirring the syrup in the pan, Evan emerges from his office with a newspaper in his hands. He puts it on the kitchen island, saunters toward me, and wraps his arms around me, kissing my neck. “Barefoot and in the kitchen,” he murmurs.

  “Shouldn’t that be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen?” I tease.

  He presses his firm body against me. “Not until I put a wedding ring on that finger.”

  I pour the syrup into a small bowl and carry it to the table while Evan pours us two cups of coffee. As we sit enjoying our shared meal, I can’t help but constantly look over toward the island, trying to catch a glimpse of the headlines. Are we front-page news? God, I hope not.

  “Want to see the paper?” Evan asks. “You’ve been staring at it for the last five minutes.”

  “I’m not sure. Part of me is curious, but I don’t know if I really want to know what they’re saying,” I ruefully admit.

  “The good news is, we didn’t make the front-page today. Apparently the President ordered another air strike in the Middle East,” he tells me between mouthfuls.

  “That’s great!” I answer entirely too enthusiastically. Evan raises his eyebrows at me, drawing attention to my inappropriate response. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just glad we’re not the center of attention, that’s all.”

  “I know. Me too. So what do you want to do today? It looks like we have a day off together.”

  “Honestly, Evan, I want to do nothing. Absolutely nothing. Get in a good workout, but other than that, can we just veg around the house, rent some stupid movie on demand, and just spend some time alone?”

  Evan grins at me and I know immediately that we’re on the same page. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Over the Moon

  As I lounge on the couch with Evan, I find my mind drifting from the movie we’ve rented and daydreaming about the perfect day we’ve shared. Evan and I both turn off our phones and we both agree to stay off our computers and not to watch live television.

  Our day was spent working out, having sex, eating, having sex, playing video games, having sex, and watching movies. This must be what a honeymoon feels like.

  It was Evan’s turn to choose the movie, and he’s chosen a sci-fi thriller set in Earth’s future where the few inhabitants left have to fight each other in order to survive. It’s got big Hollywood names, explosions, and lots of special effects. And I couldn’t be any less interested.

  I’m left to wonder what my friends are doing right now. Are Emmy and Adam visiting with Kai? Are they negotiating visitation or custody with the Keilani family? Is Derek there to support Shea? I hope I’ll find out more tomorrow when it’s time to return to work and our regular routine begins again.

  Even though Evan doesn’t want me to, I sneak a few peeks through the front window just to see what’s going on outside. The last time I checked was a few minutes ago on my way to the bathroom, and there didn’t appear to be any paparazzi lingering outside. None. Peace. And. Quiet.

  I cuddle up against Evan’s side under his strong and protective arm and snuggle on his chest. Maddy curls up in a ball at our feet as I gaze at the crackling fire warming the room and bathing it in a golden glow. Evan’s hand runs gently up and down my back, lulling me into a peaceful sleep.

  When I wake up, I find Evan with his phone in his hand, blatantly breaking our agreement. “Hey, what’s the big idea?” I ask, trying to grab the phone from his hands. Evan’s reflexes are too good, and he easily evades me, raising the phone just out of my reach.

  “Just checking on a few things,” he teases. “What are you going to do about it?”

  I climb onto his lap and pull on his arm with all my might, bringing his phone down low enough that I can grab it. “What’s so important that you couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” I ask as I look at the screen.

  “Look for yourself,” he responds. The sudden flash of his grin stops my heart. He’s up to something, and I want to know what it is.

  He’s text messaging with Gavin Wolffe. I scroll to the beginning of the discussion.

  Evan: Any news on the pic and vid?

  Gavin: Copyright complaints worked. Pics and vids scrubbed from net.

  Evan: u sure?

  Gavin: yes. Threads and links all disabled as of midnight last night.

  Evan: u r a miracle worker.

  Gavin: wait until you get my bill.

  Evan: worth every penny.

  I reread it just to make sure I read it correctly, and then I read it one more time for good measure. “Evan, is this for real?”

  “Every word of it,” he assures me. “It was taken down before our appearance on Night After Night even aired. I told you I would take care of it. I’ll always take care of you, Juliette. It’s my job. And I take my job very seriously.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck and press my face into his throat. My heart feels as if it’s swelling in my chest. Everything I’ve felt over the past few weeks, all the torment and all the love, overpowers me as I tremble in his arms.

  “Shh.” He holds me tighter, squeezing me until it’s hard to breathe. Evan bends his head and brushes his lips over mine. “I’m going to help you. And for once, you’re going to let me.” With a soft groan, he seals his chiseled mouth over mine and takes away my pain, replacing it with pleasure.

  I push my fingers into his hair to hold him still and kiss him back. The surge of emotion I feel in this moment is overwhelming. Gratitude and affection, desire and tenderness.

  I arrive at the restaurant early the next day, eager to see everyone. I head straight for my office to check the schedule. Just as I had hoped, Emmy is opening today. I won’t get to see Derek and Reese until later, when they come in for the night shift. But that’s okay, it will give me and Emmy a chance to catch up. So much has happened in both our lives and we haven’t had an opportunity to talk about any of it.

  It feels like the right time for new beginnings, so while I’m here alone, I decide to purge the restaurant of all its holiday decorations. One by one, I collect them all – the twinkle lights, the garland, the wreaths, and finally the amaryllis flowers from Evan. I carefully pack away most of them, but the flowers will not survive much longer, so I walk them out to the dumpster. It pains me to throw them away, but it’s time to make room for new memories.

  Each time the door opens and one of the servers or cooks comes in, I’m greeted with big hugs, kisses, and generous offers to pick up extra shifts or do whatever they can to pitch in and help. “You and Evan need to get away,” my head waitress Lindsay points out. “Just the two of you. I can cover your duties. We’ll be fine.”

  I thank each of them and tell Lindsay I’ll think about it, but I just don’t see how it’s possible. I haven’t been to work in almost a week, and I have a ton of things to catch up on – payroll, inventory, menu changes ... the list goes on and on.

  Emmy is the last to arrive for her shift. When the door opens, she sweeps in, bringing with her the bitterly cold January wind. With a twinkle in her eye, she walks through the restaurant and past the bar, where I happen to be setting out a few menus. She grabs me by the arm without slowing down, and drags me into the office with her.

  Emmy tosses her coat, her bag, and her keys on the small couch and pulls me in for a hug. “We have so much to talk about,” she tells me.

  “You were right about Kai,” I admit. “Congratulations. I haven’t stopped thinking about you and Adam since we first got the news. How is everything going?”

  “Great, actually. Derek and Shea came over for dinner last night and we had a really long talk. It didn’t start out so great, though. Shea still isn’t convinced that Adam wasn’t somehow involved in David’s disappearance.”

  A wave of guilt washes over me, knowing that I brought Adam into my dealings with David, and now he is paying the price for it. “I hope he told her i
t was my fault. That I dragged him into it. That he never even spoke one word to David.”

  “He did, but she didn’t care. Not until we reminded her that Derek isn’t cleared yet, either, and that doesn’t mean he’s done anything wrong.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her sorrowful eyes. “God, I hate to throw Derek under the bus like that, but she wouldn’t listen to anything we were saying.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “She came around. Eventually. Once things calmed down and they got back to talking, do you know what happened?” She pauses and places both hands on her stomach. “I felt Bean’s first kick. Adam thinks it was gas, but it wasn’t. I just know it.” She’s glowing with happiness as she retells it. “And I think it was a sign.”

  “A sign? Of what?” I ask.

  “Of how my family is growing, but theirs just keeps getting smaller and smaller. Shea is fighting so hard because she thinks we’re tearing her family apart. Of course she’s going to put up a fight. I know I would. How could we live with ourselves if we ripped that little boy away from the only family he’s ever known?”

  “Adam’s not giving up, is he? He can’t just walk away.”

  “No!” Emmy answers quickly. “Of course not. He’s giving Shea custody and they’re going to work out a fair visitation schedule. But I don’t think we’ll really need a schedule. I think we’re all going to be spending a lot of time together. The moment Adam told her he wouldn’t fight for custody, everything changed.”

  “Legally, will Adam have any rights?”

  “Oh, yeah – definitely. He’s having Kai’s birth certificate changed today, as a matter of fact. It’s going to list Adam as the father, and Shea agrees to change his legal name to Kai Cooke. She wanted to do one of those hyphen names, but Kai Keilani-Cooke is just too much of a mouthful. Kai is the name his mother chose for him, so he’ll always have a piece of her with him. It seems right, don’t you think?”