Chapter Twenty-One

Barking up the Wrong Tree

We arrive at my house, and I slip into my security routine. I set the alarm, check the back door, and scan the house. All is quiet and dark. Auggie must be asleep in bed, there’s not a peep coming from his room.

Evan is in my room, stripping down to his boxers and slipping into my bed. He has his back to me, and I can’t help but admire the frame of this incredible man. The broad width of his shoulders contrasted with the lean cut of his waist make me weak in the knees. His strength and power are only surpassed by his kindness and compassion.

His keys, wallet, and watch are lying on my dresser. I remove my jewelry and watch and place them beside his. It’s hard to believe that less than one week ago, I was contemplating never seeing him again. Now, he’s in my every waking thought and at the heart of every decision I make.

I slip out of my clothes, leaving just my matching bra and panties and join Evan in bed. Evan’s open arm is waiting for me to snuggle up to him. He pulls the covers up, and I let out a giggle. He looks at me with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Sorry, baby. It’s just that with Auggie down the hall, I feel like a teenager sneaking a boy into my room. I feel ... naughty,” I confess.

I wait for a response. No words are spoken, but none need to be. He looks at me with a desire that I know all too well. He pulls me to him and presses his lips against mine. I feel him hardening against me as a soft moan escapes from my lips. All it takes is the slightest movement of his hips for me to instinctively open up my thighs.

“Evan, stop. We shouldn’t,” I plea.

Slowly, Evan rolls on top of me, pinning me beneath him. He gazes down at me and I can feel my temperature rise as a shot of electricity pulses between my legs.

“You’re right. Good night, my love. I’ll leave you alone now,” he teases as he kisses behind my ear, nibbling and sucking down my neck to my chin. Reflexively, I arch my neck to give him greater access. My body betrays me. Another thrust of his hips has me drenched with desire.

Abruptly, he rolls off me onto his back, resting his arms behind his head. “Sleep tight,” he mutters. A salacious grin sweeps across his face because he knows what he does to me. He knows that when it comes to him, I have no will power.

I am entirely too turned on right now to stop. My hand sweeps across his pecs, relishing in the feel of his hard body. I allow my lips to explore his abs, moving up his chest, gently biting and nipping on his shoulders. By the time I reach his mouth, I’m on top of him. Evan wraps his arms around me, and our bodies move and grind together in a familiar rhythm.

When I look down, he is staring up at me with a dark, intense look in his big blue eyes. His kiss is deep and possessive, demanding that I give myself to him. I stop protesting and surrender to my own desires.

He has been seducing me all night on the dance floor. The entire night has led to this moment. To deny it would be futile. He rips off his boxers, I tear off my panties and in the blink of an eye, he’s inside me. God, I love this man.

The next morning, Evan wakes me up and kisses me good-bye. He’s got to be in the city by ten, and he needs to get home and shower. He promises to text and call me whenever he can. There’s no reason for me to get up right away, so I roll over and fall back asleep, dreaming about beach houses and twisted ankles.

When I finally get up, Auggie is already home. I find him sitting in the kitchen sipping a latte from our favorite coffee shop.

“Good morning, Jepetto. Or is it good afternoon?” he teases.

“Nope, not quite noon yet. Technically, it’s still morning. No more work today, Auggie?” I’m pleasantly surprised to see him home at this hour. We haven’t spent much time together in the last week. I really do miss him.

“Did Evan make it to his interview on time?” he asks.

“Yeah, I got a call from him a couple of hours ago.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Without looking up at me, Auggie goes on. “He’s a good guy, Jette. I’m so sorry about all the drama I caused you two last week. It’s really been bothering me. If I just kept my big fat mouth shut, I’m pretty sure Evan would have told you everything himself.”

I walk over and wrap my arms around him. “Please don’t. I love you for it. Evan should have told me sooner. Who knows what would have happened, anyway. Everything worked out just fine.” He returns my hug, but I can sense he’s holding back.

“Auggie, what’s wrong?” He’s not his usual happy self. “Is it Brandon?” I ask.

“Yes. I mean no. Well, sort of. Shit.”

“Auggie, what is it? You can tell me anything, you know.”

“Oh, Jette, I know I can, but I just don’t know if I should,” he says.

“Just spill. If I can help you, I will. If something is wrong, we can fix it. What’s going on?” Now I’m starting to worry.

“It’s not about me, it’s about you. Jette, these things that are happening to you frighten me,” he confesses. “Last night, I saw something that struck a chord with me. I was getting a really weird vibe from someone.”

“I don’t understand. What happened? Did somebody say something to you last night?”

“Nothing happened, it’s more of a feeling, an impression. That’s why I don’t want to tell you. I could be wrong.”

“But you don’t think you are, do you?” I ask him.

“No, I don’t. So I called Brandon last night, just to get an independent perspective.”

“And?”

“He told me to step back and look at things from a factual point of view. Whoever is doing this knows you. It’s not just a random person who saw you at the bar. He really knows you. He knows your name, what car you drive, where you live, what your phone number is, and even what your e-mail address is. It’s someone who knows you, very well.”

“Okay, you have my attention, what else have you pieced together?”

“Well, when you sit down and think about it, ask yourself, what does your stalker want from you?” he asks.

“Nothing. What do you mean?”

“Well, from what I’ve read online, the most common type of stalker is someone who has an irrational and inappropriate infatuation with their victim. They often think the victim knows them intimately. They confess their love in strange and unacceptable ways and sometimes even create an imaginary loving relationship.”

“That doesn’t sound like my stalker. My stalker doesn’t love me, he seems to hate me, with a passion.”

“Exactly, your stalker wants to punish you and make you suffer. I think it’s someone you’ve hurt, either on purpose or unintentionally. The goal seems to be to frighten you and maintain power over you and your emotions.” Auggie is making sense. A lot of sense.

“You said someone was giving off strange vibes last night and got you thinking. Who is it Auggie?” My stomach is in knots. Everything Auggie has said so far seems credible. But how could it possibly be someone I know?

“Jette, you had your eyes on Evan all night. You knew where he was and what he was doing each and every moment. There was someone there who watched your every movement, too. His eyes never left you for very long. Do you have any idea who I’m talking about?”

“Auggie, you don’t mean to tell me ... you don’t suspect ... you can’t possibly believe ... that Evan would do those things! You’re insane! He loves me!” I shout. It’s not possible.

“Juliette Evangeline Fletcher, calm down and stop yelling at me. Evan is completely in love with you and would take a bullet for you. No, I most certainly do NOT believe it was Evan. Think. Think. Is there someone else who might have romantic feelings for you that feels rejected and resentful?”

No way. “I see where you’re going with this, Aug, and you’re wrong. Absolutely wrong! It’s not! It can’t be. Derek would never...”

“I hope I am wrong. But Jette, you didn’t see the way he watched you last night. He’s got it bad.”

“That doesn’t mean he’d try to hurt me, Auggie.” I just don’t believe it.

“Are you sure? What do you really know about him? I asked around, and no one I know has ever heard of him. Where did he grow up? Where is his family? Are there any former girlfriends? He doesn’t even have a Facebook page. Can you answer any of these questions? Because I can’t.”

“Listen, Auggie, I know him well enough to know that this isn’t possible. I’ve always known that he had feelings for me and for a little while, I thought I might have feelings for him, too. But we’re friends. Friends don’t do this to each other.”

“Okay, Jette, you’re probably right. Just keep your eyes open, promise?”

Evan called three times throughout the day. He called when he arrived for his interview, he called from a cab on his way to lunch, and then again just before I left for work. He said he had a few errands to run while he was in the city and he’d be in late tonight.

Auggie drops me off at work for the night shift. He doesn’t want me to drive my car home alone after midnight. I don’t like it, but I suppose he’s right. Better safe than sorry.

The last time I was here, the Suit ruined my night and nearly destroyed my relationship with Evan. I don’t think I’ll be seeing Evan at the bar tonight, so I promise Auggie I’ll ask either Marcus or Emmy drive me home. He doesn’t want me alone with Derek until we figure this out. I’m certain he’s wrong, but I’d do anything for Auggie, including making this small concession.

Emmy, Marcus and I are working the patio tonight. Derek’s here, too, but he’s at the main bar tonight. Marcus busies himself restocking the kegs while Emmy and I clean the bar. While Emmy and I are alone, I take advantage to seek out her thoughts on Auggie’s revelations.

“So, Emmy, did you have fun last night?” I ask her.

“Oh, yeah! Please thank Evan for buying dinner last night. It was great. Adam is a real hottie. Let me tell you, if I didn’t have Grant waiting at home for me last night, I could have easily let Adam take me home,” she says. I was wondering what happened after Evan and I left.

“Emmy, can I ask you something? Do you promise not to say anything to anyone? Swear?” I only have a few more minutes to talk to her before Marcus returns.

“Sure, Jette, are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m fine. But Auggie has a theory about my stalker. He says that the stalker knows too many personal details about me to be a stranger. He thinks it’s someone I know. Maybe someone I’ve hurt recently.”

“Oh my, God! Do you two think it’s Derek?” she asks.

I can’t believe Emmy went right there. She didn’t even hesitate to say his name. “Oh, Emmy, not you, too! I told Auggie he’s dead wrong. How could you think that about our friend?”

“If we’re being perfectly honest, Jette, I’ve had my suspicions for a while now. He talks about you all the time. And there’s something about the way he watches you,” she admits. “Holy shit, do you remember the day your house was broken into?” Emmy asks.

“Of course I do. But what does that have to do with Derek?” She looks at me. She’s remembering something. I think back to that day. Emmy and I worked the afternoon shift on the patio. Marcus relieved us at four. Derek worked the main bar that day. “Derek was here with us that afternoon. See, I’m right, it can’t be him!” I bellow as a sense of relief washes over me.

“Don’t you remember? He showed up late for work that day, almost an hour late. He said he had a flat tire. He was acting strangely odd all afternoon.”

Crap. Emmy’s right, but that doesn’t mean he was late to work because he was sneaking into my house. I still don’t believe Derek is capable of such horrible things. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. You have a customer,” I tell her. I have a lot to think about.

Marcus returns with two full kegs and quickly taps them. I like working with Marcus. He doesn’t ask a lot of questions or push me on subjects I don’t want to talk about, but I know I can talk to him if I want to, and he’ll be honest with me.

The house DJ is here tonight. By ten, the place is filling up and the dance floor is rocking. I like working when it’s busy, it keeps my mind occupied. The music is a wonderful distraction.

Marcus is keeping close to me tonight; I think he’s afraid the Suit will return to stir up trouble. I don’t think there’s any way he could get past the bouncers. On my list of worries right now, he’s not even in the top ten.

At the far corner of the bar, nearest to Emmy, I spot two girls I went to high school with. Sometimes it’s nice to run into an old classmate, and sometimes it’s not. These two, Samantha and Kayla, never gave me the time of day in high school. I was never thin enough, pretty enough, or arrogant enough to measure up to their standard. But that’s okay as far as I’m concerned; they were never smart enough or kind enough to measure up to mine.

Samantha dated the most popular boy all throughout high school, the captain of the soccer team, Scott Castle. Scott liked to party and would cheat on Samantha whenever the opportunity arose ... and it arose a lot. Kayla never had any trouble dating, either. She always had a boyfriend and each one was more attractive and popular than the next.

Now here they are, twenty feet away from me, and once again, they don’t even acknowledge my existence. I can tell from this distance that they have changed, though. Both have big, fake boobs and spray tans that look a little too orange for my taste.

I notice Emmy talking with them and nodding a lot. Emmy points over to where I’m standing and both girls stare down the bar in my direction. They start waving and make a beeline straight for me. Great.

“Oh my God, it’s so good to see you!” Kayla squeals.

“Jette, you look amazing!” Samantha shrieks. “How have you been? We haven’t seen you since graduation.”

This fake friendship crap is exactly what I hated about high school.

“Hi, Kayla. Hi, Samantha. How’s Scott? Did you two get married yet?” I doubt they have, or these two wouldn’t be here alone at the bar without their men.

“Oh, no. We broke up right after graduation. I’m surprised you didn’t hear. He hooked up with some skank so I had to kick him to the curb.” It’s just like them to think the entire world would follow their sad, pathetic life, play by play, like we have nothing better to talk about than their personal drama.

“Sorry, I’ve been living in Denver. Word doesn’t travel that far.” I try to be polite, but it’s hard. Even after all these years, they still have an air of entitlement that makes me ill.

“Well, we’ve been hearing a lot about you lately. Word has it that you’re dating Evan McGuire,” Samantha says with a tone of condescension.

Kayla adds, “Yeah, we saw pictures of you two together. No one was more shocked than we were, that’s for sure.”

Does she even listen to the words that come out of her mouth? Unbelievable. I’m bombarded with a series of questions about our relationship, rapid fire, one after another.

“How did you meet?”

“Is it serious?”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

“Can you introduce us?”

The last one is enough for me. I can’t hold back anymore. “Why do you want to know? Where is this conversation going, Kayla? Are you going to ask for his phone number next?”

“Oh, come on, Jette, don’t be like that. You never could take a joke. I see some things never change,” Kayla pronounces.

“Come on, Samantha. Let’s go have some fun.” The two of them storm off. I have no words to describe how badly they still get under my skin.

I look around the bar and get busy filling drink orders. Emmy and Marcus are huddled at the end of the bar, and I have a sneaking suspicion that Emmy is selling him on Auggie’s theory about Derek even though I begged her not to. I cannot hear what they are saying, but Marcus looks pissed. He tosses his head back and bangs his fist on the bar. Either he’s upset with Derek or he’s angry with Emmy. I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.

It’s time for me to take a short break. “Emmy, Marcus, cover for me. I’m taking a break. Be back in ten,” I tell them. I really don’t want to deal with their drama right now, too.

I head back to the staff room and shut the door. The room is empty and I have a few minutes to relax and clear my head. I turn on the television sitting on top of the vending machine, and flip through the channels. I stop when I see a picture of Evan and turn up the volume.

Breaking News: Evan McGuire was seen leaving the Manhattan loft of his former flame, Averee DeVeau, earlier today. In an exclusive interview with Averee, she confirms rumors that the on-again, off-again relationship between her and the football hunk are, indeed, heating back up again.

Evan was also spotted having lunch at DeNiro’s Tribeca Grill with former teammate Darryl Hawthorne. After lunch, the two headed downtown to Tiffany’s where McGuire was seen leaving with a small gift bag in hand.

Averee has just started a short sold-out run on Broadway starring as Roxie Hart in “Chicago” where she is burning up the stage with her powerful voice and undeniable stage presence.

Evan was seen a few nights ago with a local bartender, Juliette Fletcher, where the two were spotted enjoying a romantic night out on the town. Miss Fletcher could not be reached for comment.

The star athlete is well known for his romantic entanglements. When we return, we’ll hear more from Averee.

I feel my eyes filling up with tears while the most painful feelings well up in my chest, as if I had just been hit by a truck. They start rolling stock footage of Evan and Averee from last year, strolling hand-in-hand, laughing. They seemed happy then. All I can do is stand there and stare, bewildered. The next screen appears, showing Evan entering her loft today. Today! Why?

He told me hundreds of times and in thousands of ways how much he loved me. I don’t understand what happened. When did his feelings change? Did she somehow get to him and lure him to her house? How could he let her? He’s supposed to be with me. Not with her, or anyone else ever again.

He has been texting a lot lately. Maybe he’s been in contact with her the entire time. Evan wouldn’t be the first man to betray my trust. Despite the cold, hard fact that I’ve been in this situation before, this is different. I can see the infidelity with my own eyes. Not only can I see it, the entire television-viewing world can see it, too.

I’m crying so hard, I can no longer see the TV screen images. Shock, anger, pain, regret, and disgust all swirl around me in waves so close together, I cannot decipher one emotion from the next. It’s hard to breath. Reflexively, I bend over, placing my hands on my knees, trying to get air into my lungs.

I’ve been waiting for this day to arrive, now here it is. I told Evan he was going to get bored with me, but he wouldn’t let me go. Why? Did he want it to be on his terms? Rob me of any and all sense of control? Well, he’s done it. I’m broken. I swore no man would ever break me, but deep down inside, I knew that Evan was going to be the one to do it, finally. But with Averee DeVeau? If that is the type of woman Evan wants, then I am definitely not the right girl for him. Maybe when he’s done with her, I can set him up with Samantha or Kayla.

I need to get to the bathroom. I think some cold water splashed on my face will help stop the tears from flowing. I find the doorknob to open the door and it turns in my hand, swinging open. The shock frightens me, and a fresh wave of tears begins to flow uncontrollably.

“Crap, Jette. What the hell happened? Did I hurt you?” I look up and it’s Derek. He thinks he hurt me with the door. The thought is so funny to me that I begin to laugh in between sobs.

“Jette, you’re scaring me. What the hell is going on? Talk to me, dammit!” he demands.

All I can do is point to the television screen. I glance up and Averee is back on camera. I cannot hear what she’s saying, but in the corner of the screen, they are rolling pictures of the two of them. I can see the pictures taken today, too. They show a picture of her opening the door while Evan enters her building; then there’s one of her throwing her arms around his neck; they pull up the one from the Knicks game where she was all over him; and finally, another one of him and Darryl leaving Tiffany’s with a small blue bag in his hand. Underneath the images, the crawler at the bottom of the screen reads, “Evan ‘Big Mac’ McGuire and Averee DeVeau back together again.” I fall to me knees, sobbing.

I’m barely aware of what’s happening as Derek carries me to the couch and holds me while I weep into his chest. He hands me tissues and rubs my back until the waves slow.

“Jette, you can’t stay here. I’m taking you home. Wait here, I’ll be right back,” Derek tells me.

“No! Don’t leave me. Please, Derek, don’t go,” I beg. I don’t want to be alone right now.

“Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll call Jack and tell him you got sick and I’m taking you home.” He takes out his phone and calls our boss. They chat for a moment, and then Derek ends the call.

The next thing I know, I’m sitting in Derek’s car. I have no idea how I got here, but my seatbelt is on and the car is moving. For the moment, I’ve stopped crying and I can see the road ahead. He’s taking me home.

“Derek, please don’t take me home.” There are memories of Evan all around my house. The alarm he installed, the flowers he gave me, the bed he slept in last night. “Please! Can we go to the diner and just sit for a while? I don’t want to go home. I’ll go anywhere you want, just not home.” I’m desperate to avoid more pain.

“Sure, Jette, let’s go to the diner. I think you’ve calmed enough to go back in public. We’ll be there in a minute.” I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. Now that I’m no longer able to see the television, I can breathe again.

Derek gets us a table in the back of the diner, and we sit for the longest time without saying a word. He orders both of us an unsweetened iced tea and cheese fries. I can’t eat, and Derek easily finishes off the entire serving without my help. When his phone rings, I beg him to shut it off. I don’t want to see anyone right now. I’m too upset and humiliated.

“Where’s your phone, Jette? Did you bring it? You should let someone know where you are. They’re going to worry.” He’s right, I know, but at the moment, I really don’t care.

“I left all my things at the bar with Emmy. My purse, ID, phone. Everything. She’ll take care of it. Jack has probably told them by now that I went home sick.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Derek asks.

“It’s over. He left me. He went back to his rich and famous pop star ex-girlfriend, Averee fucking DeVeau.” My voice cracks as I say it aloud. I need to say it.

“Did Evan say that himself? Did he break up with you? I saw pictures of him with her today, but that could be for a lot of different reasons.”

“Derek, it’s not just the pictures. She told everyone and bragged about it on national television. I never thought you, of all people, would be sticking up for him. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“No, I never wanted to see you like this. You know that, Jette. I’ve seen how he is with you. He loves you. I just find it hard to believe that only twenty-four hours ago, he was a man passionately in love with you, willing to throw away his career for you. Now, you’re convinced he’s tossed you to the side and gone back to some diva. It just doesn’t make sense.” Derek hands me another tissue so I can blow my nose.

“I thought so, too, at first. But then Averee confirmed it on T.V. She said they are seeing each other again. Why would she say it if it’s not true?” I can feel my heart breaking again.

We sit there for nearly two hours, just talking. My head hurts. We keep going around in circles. I don’t know what to think anymore.

When we ran into Averee at the Knicks game, Evan seemed fine. Actually, he seemed annoyed and embarrassed by her behavior. He was attentive to me. He stayed with me. He left with me. God, I’m so confused.

Derek reminds me of a few important things. For one, I only know Averee’s side of the story, and she is not someone I find trustworthy.

And two, I’ve never dealt with paparazzi and celebrity gossip. I guess I’m not very good at it. I’ve always known that you can’t believe everything you read or everything you see on T.V., yet I accepted this entertainment gossip as fact. How could I be so gullible? Maybe that’s exactly what Averee is banking on. That I will just give up and roll over, freeing up Evan for her.

Then I remember a promise I made to Evan. I swore that I would not believe everything I see and read about him without asking him or Adam about it. I broke that promise tonight.

Deep down inside, I know he loves me. Everything he does and everything he says proves it. But why is Derek working so hard to keep us together? If what Auggie suspects is true, Derek should be in his glory right now, seeing me suffer.

“Derek, we’re friends, right?” So many thoughts are swirling in my head right now, I need to get at least one thing straight.

“Of course we’re friends. Why would you ask?” He’s looking right at me, waiting for me to explain.

“Do you ever wish things worked out differently? You know, that maybe if I never met Evan, we would ...” I trail off. I don’t know how to ask him what I want to know.

“Well, sure we all have regrets, Jette. I’ve never hidden the fact that I had feelings for you. But you already knew that.”

“Derek, I’ll just come out and ask you. Are you the one who’s been torturing me? Did you follow me that night in your car? Did you break into my house? Did you hack my e-mail and put up a fake Craigslist ad just to get back at me for choosing Evan?” There. I said it.

“Seriously? You think it was me? You really do believe the worst in everyone, don’t you, Jette?”

“No! I don’t think it’s you. I never did. But Auggie and Emmy... they think it could, that you could, oh, I don’t know.” I’m not even making sense at this point.

“Jette, it’s not me. I swear! I could never do that to you, or to anyone. Why would Emmy and Auggie think that?” I’ve hurt him. That’s not what I meant to do.

“They said you look sad when you look at me. That maybe you’re really more hurt than you let on. Besides, we don’t really know that much about your past. Why don’t you ever talk about your family or growing up? How come you have no high school friends?”

“I don’t like talking about my past. My parents were killed in a car accident when I was a freshman in college. I quit school to take care of their estate. They had a lot of debts to clear up and personal property to get rid of. I wasn’t a lot of fun to be around for a long time. Most of my friends got tired of waiting for me, and slowly they went about their lives. About three years ago, I moved here and started over. Want to see my family? I have pictures of my parents on my cell phone.”

He pulls up some pictures and hands me his phone. There are Christmas pictures and images of them together at Disney when Derek was little. He was really a cute kid. But there are no recent pictures.

“Derek, I’m so sorry.” I take his hand in mine. “They look like they were great parents. Will you ever forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I can’t really blame you for wondering. But I swear to you, I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“Now, are you ready to go home? I really think you should talk to Evan.”

“Do you really think I should? How will I know if he’s telling me the truth?” I ask.

“You’ll know. Trust yourself, Jette. If he’s moved on, then the worst has happened and you survived. If it’s a big misunderstanding, then you’ll be glad you gave him a chance to straighten things out. You can’t run away from your problems. They always catch up to you in the end.”

“You’re right. I’m ready. Take me home?”

Date: 2015-02-28; view: 658