Contents
Untitled Document
Intro
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
End with Comeback Story
Soundtrack
The final piece of the story and final installment
Acknowledgements
“Love is friendship caught on fire.”
Jeremy Taylor
1613-1667
~“I can’t stop thinking about him. I wonder what if every day. And Ian, the what if is keeping me from being in this completely. It’s keeping me from really being the one you deserve. Because you deserve a whole heart that is yours and yours alone. I’m afraid I just don’t have that to give. I tried, but he ruined that. I hate it, but he did.” She had no control over the tears that trickled like a stream down her cheeks. Her heart was breaking, but she knew his was splintering. She wanted to tell him she loved him and to ask him if they could still be friends, but thought better of it. That generic platitude would only insult him. So she was left with, “I love you, I do, but… I’m just so sorry.”
“Me too. I always had the feeling you never really got over him. I just hoped I’d help you forget. Or that you’d love me more.” She wanted to ease his pain somehow, but the one thing that would ease his would only prolong hers. So they sat.
“FUCK!” he yelled, throwing the remote against the wall, startling Katrine out of her silence. He rubbed his face a few times, blinking away tears before they could fall. Composing himself, he turned to her. His voice that had just filled the room with anger now came out soft as a whisper, “Katie-m—” He didn’t finish, but there was no need. His eyes said it all…the sadness, the regret, the disappointment. She grabbed his shirt as he pushed off the couch, but then let it slip out of her hand. He was almost to the door when he paused and turned back towards her and chuckled, but it held no amusement. “I guess nice, loyal guys do finish last. And rich, cheating assholes get the girl…Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.” ~
Resilient
Chapter One
“So you’re really gonna do it?”
Ian paused for a moment, then put the box into the back end.
“Gonna do what exactly?” he asked without turning around.
“Oh you know, head out of town for three months without saying goodbye.”
He turned towards the perturbed girl in his driveway and leaned back against his Jeep. The breeze was slight, but it still managed to blow a dark curl into his field of vision. Brushing it away, he smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
“Mads, you knew I was leaving. You’re watching my house, for god’s sake.”
“Yeah, but I need a goodbye hug or something. Not a ‘vaya con dios, bitches’ as you cruise into the sunset.”
“I was just anxious to get on the road.”
He pushed off the bumper with his sneakered foot and whistled. His Irish Setter answered his call, albeit slower than she used to. Ruby put her paws onto the step and he helped her into the back seat, then scratched behind her ear and kissed her nose. Tail wagging, she licked his cheek.
Maddie smiled at the exchange as she walked up the drive. She was wearing a tank that said, “Yoda’s my homie.” He couldn’t help but smile at his friend even when she was giving him her best death stare.
“Come over here and give your old pal a snuggle,” he mocked gently. Her pout melted away and a small smile took its place. She wrapped her arms around his mid-section and squeezed, eliciting a grunt.
“Ow, okay, okay. I’m sorry I didn’t come over and give you a proper goodbye,” he said, pulling away. “In my defense, I came by to give you my house keys and you were out or I would have hugged your tits right off…forgiven?” He batted his ample sable lashes.
Maddie groaned. “You know I can’t resist those gorgeous blue eyes of yours. Forgiven…I’m gonna miss you.”
His mouth lifted on one side then he pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ll miss you too, Mads.”
“So let me run this down again. Mail has been forwarded. Pool and lawn service scheduled. So all I have to do is water plants, feed the fish, sample the wine collection and roll around naked in your sheets.”
Ian shook his head. Most people would be joking, but with Maddie you just never knew.
“Yes to the plants and the fish. Why the hell not to the sheets—that’s kind of hot.”
He looped his arm around her neck and pulled her towards the house. “Hands off my wine.”
Even though things had not ended well with her sister, he and Maddie had remained close. As long as she adhered to one rule, do not bring up said sister, things were fine. Thinking about her still made his chest hurt a little, but as usual he pushed the ache away. When his design was chosen for the new modern art gallery in Austin, he was stoked for several reasons. Besides the obvious career kudos, it was a chance for a change of scenery. Scenery that didn’t hold memories of Katrine MacNamara.
Ian did a final walk through as Maddie watched from the entryway. Satisfied that everything was turned off, unplugged, and set to hibernate, he grabbed the black backpack that held his computer and his ball cap. He took a deep breath, mentally saying farewell to his house.
He scooped Maddie into one final bear hug.
“I’ll text you when I get settled, okay?”
Maddie nodded with a tight smile. She wanted to say something, he could tell. Cocking one eyebrow, he waited for her to speak.
“I told her you were leaving,” she said softly. “She wanted me to tell you she was proud of you and to wish you luck.”
He started the car. The music was loud, perfect for a road trip.
He put a cap over his dark waves.
“Bye, Mads, don’t burn the place down.”
It was time to get the hell out of Dodge.
Chapter Two
Ian set his bare feet onto the oak coffee table. He sipped a beer with one hand and stroked Ruby’s head with the other. It hadn’t taken him long to get settled into his new place. It was small and fully furnished. Added bonus—it was about a five minute walk from the job site and a five minute drive to the Austin offices of his architecture firm that he would call home for the next few months. He was relieved to see the living room was home to a very large flat screen that was mounted onto an almond-colored wall. The floors were a shiny wood and he approved of the modern fixtures. Yeah, he could live here.
There was shit on TV, so he finished the remains of the bottle and decided to explore the neighborhood. It was early afternoon and the forecast called for clear skies, so why would he waste it indoors? When the leash rattled in his hand, Ruby perked up with lightning speed. The promise of a walk was the surest way to rejuvenate her old bones.
“Come on, girl. Let’s go explore a bit.”
The two
some hit the pavement, the sounds of the street filled the air. It was a warm Sunday afternoon. There was live music playing, patios filled, and drinks being enjoyed. He loved the laid-back vibe, it suited him well. The best part was that this area was very dog friendly. The patios were lined with pooch patrons of every size.
“Rubes, I think we’re gonna fit in.” She sniffed and humphed as if she agreed.
Once they cased the five blocks surrounding the apartment building and checked out the dog park, Ian’s stomach rumbled. There were so many places to eat it was hard to decide. A little pub patio caught his eye. Maybe it was the name or maybe it was the inviting dark wooden benches, but most likely it was the claim “Best fish and chips on the planet” written on a small chalk board by the curb that really tipped the scales.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, putting his sunglasses in the neck of his green t-shirt. Large scarlet umbrellas were open despite the fact that the patio was now on the shady side of the street. Ian walked up and a waitress carrying a full tray said he could sit anywhere. He lucked out when a couple left a prime table in the corner. There was a nice spot for Ruby to rest.
“Hi there. Welcome to Royal Muck. Can I get ya something to drink?”
Ian opened the small shiny menu and glanced at the extensive beer selection. After a quick perusal, he decided to try something new.
“I’ll take a pint and your best in the world fish and chips, please.” He looked at her and smiled. The waitress blinked, seeming stunned for a split second. He smirked internally, noticing the look in her eyes and the absence of a ring on her finger. He knew that she would sleep with him if he wanted. He wasn’t being cocky, it was just the facts. Ian wasn’t one of those guys who thought every girl who smiled at him wanted to fuck. But he did, however, know “the look.” The moistening of the lips, the slight lift of the chest, the rub of the thighs. All signs that led to that wonderful warm skin between a woman’s legs.
She took a breath and grabbed the menu. “Good choice…um, can I get some water for your gorgeous dog?” Her voice had regained its bright tone. Ian told her that would be great and she nodded, walking quickly towards the inside.
He chuckled and rubbed Ruby’s ear.
“Yeah, girl. I think we’re gonna fit in just fine.”
The fish and chips were outstanding.
Chapter Three
They broke ground on the Mariam Asher Museum of Modern Art and Sculpture Garden early Monday morning. After a ten hour day it was a concrete slab nestled in a copse of large elm trees, but in a few months it would be the site of a 30 million dollar work of art. Well, in Ian’s opinion it was a work of art—he’d designed it. His architecture firm had been one of five in the running.
He beamed with pride as he stood with the project engineer and foreman. It was rare for an architect to be on site during construction, but the investors had insisted he be available to consult. He’d worked his whole career for a project like this. It would be his legacy, a lasting mark on the landscape of humanity. And he took it that seriously, he needed to focus. That was one of the main reasons he’d tossed the napkin with that waitress’s phone number on it. The other was that she dotted the ‘i’ in Shari with a heart.
Who the fuck did that?
That was why his friends called him Seinfeld. He had the tendency to find little things that became deal breakers.
Hair flipper…Turn-off.
Annoying laugh…See ya.
Bites the side of her nails…No-go.
Doesn’t like dogs…not a virgin’s chance in hell.
Uses hearts as punctuation like a school girl…hell no.
So when he found someone that didn’t do things that grated his nerves, he tended to hold on to that girl and fall hard. It was one of the things that annoyed him about himself. Totally immune to most and then fall head over dick in a snap for the chosen few. Two to be exact. That didn’t mean he couldn’t overlook a few annoying traits for one sweaty night under the sheets, but at this point in his life he held out for quality not quantity.
His feet were up on the iron railing of his balcony as he gently strummed his guitar. It had been a long day. His thoughts were consumed, not with his project, but with the latest girl he’d fallen for. He wanted to kick himself in the nuts right now. The melancholy tune he played, the pit in his stomach. Katrine was ass deep in Manhattan right now so he needed to get the fuck over it… Nothing about her had annoyed him. She was as close to perfect as they came. Well, if you call her tendency to forgive cheating assholes—in turn breaking the heart of the good guy—perfection. Ian was the good guy in this scenario, of course. God damn it he fell in love with her and she’d clawed his heart out like a fucking T-Rex.
He laid aside his guitar and closed his eyes. His thoughts drifted to that hammock in Mexico. Her tan legs. Her soft skin. Whispered words of need and satisfaction…He groaned and sat up. The front of his pants were achingly tight. Maybe getting laid was what he needed after all.
“Yes, that’s what I need. I need some ass, and double time.”
And he knew just where to go. He threw on his worn black ballcap and flops.
Ms. Shari, dots her ‘I’ with a heart was about to get lucky.
“Sorry, she’s not working tonight,” said the petite bartender.
Sails up, but wind removed.
He shook off the disappointment and decided to stay for a beer. The place was quiet. It was a Monday night, after all. Only alcoholics and college kids went out on Monday nights. What did that make him? Oh, right, horny losers went out on Monday nights, too. But hey, dollar pints.
“Trust me, she’s not your type.”
He re-focused on the person speaking to him. Dark curls piled on the top of a head that housed big green eyes and full lips. Small waist and a killer rack. He was glad Shari with a heart wasn’t there.
“How long ago?” she asked.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“How long ago did you get your heart tsunamied?”
He was taken aback by that statement.
“Please. You have that lonely guy puppy dog look about you. Plus you haven’t stared at my tits once. All the signs are there.” She smiled. It was a pretty smile.
Ian laughed. “Wow, that obvious, huh? And by the way, I did check out your tits. I was just ninja about it.” It was her turn to laugh.
“Well, tit ninja, what can I getcha?” She had a slight twang that seemed to contradict her exotic looks.
“Surprise me.”
She chuckled again and pulled a tap to her left. “Here ya go, handsome. This is local and out of this world.” She winked.
“Thanks, and the name’s Ian.” He stuck his hand out.
She didn’t offer hers but said, “Trevia. But my friends call me Trey.”
“Which should I call you?”
She smirked and went to the end of the bar.
Chapter Four
Third night at the Royal Muck in one week. He wasn’t becoming a barfly or anything. Well, kind of. It was just that his social life was a bit limited here. The food was good, the live music was above par, and of course they employed the sassiest little bartender in town. The current band of twenty-something hipsters was playing “Barely Legal” by the Strokes, and killing it, if he was being honest.
He wasn’t drunk, but he was getting close to the line. The line that when crossed caused a pounding headache in the morning. Fuck it. He’d worked hard and it was Friday night.
“You enjoying yourself, handsome?” His favorite suds slinger asked, leaning over the bar so he could hear her over the din.
“Hell yes. This band is awesome.”
“They play every Friday. I always bank—just look at this crowd.”
He’d learned earlier in the week that she was working her way through law school. She’d taken a four year break after getting her bachelors “to find herself,”so she was one of the oldest students in class.
“But still one of the hottest
,” she’d joked. He didn’t think it was an exaggeration.
Several hours and not sure how many beers later, Ian still sat on the stool. He was keeping Trey company while she cleaned up. She was one of the coolest chicks he’d ever met. That fact that she was easy on the eyes was just a bonus.
“So I know you play the guitar. What other hidden talents do you have? Something no one really knows about you?”
He thought for a minute, tearing the paper off the corner of his coaster.
“I can juggle.”
She quirked her left eyebrow and lined three limes across the bar.
“Prove it.”
He looked around, the place was empty except for the seriously drunk couple groping in a corner booth. So he shrugged his shoulders and grabbed the green spheres. Taking a few deep breaths he admitted, “Haven’t done this in about twenty years.”
“Take your time, grandpa.” She smiled and started to dry a few glasses, never taking her eyes off of him.
One, two…drop. He tried again. One, two, three, drop. He growled in frustration and took a breath that lifted his shoulders almost to his ears. Trey just smiled, knowing he could do it. He could feel her willing him to succeed.
One, two, three, four, and around and around they spun. He was grinning from ear to ear as the limes circled his head in furious fashion. Trey whistled and clapped. He caught one in his right hand and two in his left, then bowed to his audience of one.
“Thank you, thank you.”
“That was amazing. And may I say you are the hottest juggler I’ve ever seen. Seriously, like no contest whatsoever.”
“So what about you, Trey?”
She threw her towel over her shoulder and said, “I’m double jointed.”
“Prove it.”
She laughed threw the towel at his head.
“Perv. I really don’t have any talents.”
“I find that hard to believe. I think yours just aren’t as in your face as say, juggling.”
“Oh yeah? Like what, pray tell?” She cocked one hip to the side just ever so slightly and crossed her arms in front of her. He didn’t notice the heart shape her ample mounds made above the tight white tank she was wearing. No, not at all. Thoughts of motor boating would be totally inappropriate.
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