Finally Us (True Love)

by Bentley, Harper

  Jag.

  No way.

  No fucking way.

  Upon hearing his voice, that feeling of instant full-body paralyzation hits me for several seconds, well, except for my insides where my stomach’s clenching up and I feel like I’m going to be sick, and I grab hold of the table to steady myself.

  “I’ll be right back,” I tell my patient hoarsely then I go into the hallway, tiptoeing down it like some damned creeper toward the front lobby. When I get there, I glance around the corner quickly and just about die on the spot. It is Jag.

  Oh, my God. What the hell’s he doing here?

  Shit!

  Shit, shit, shit!

  I put my hand against the wall to keep me steady then stand and listen for a few minutes.

  “You did great today,” Trina says with a giggle.

  “Couldn’t have done it without you. You’re pretty good, Trina,” Jag replies and she giggles some more, and it’s then that I decide I want to give her bad makeup tips.

  “Well, you’re an easy patient to work with. Makes my job that much better.” Another giggle. I’m so going to put her on DatingPsychos.com.

  “Thanks. I’ll see you Thursday?” Jag asks.

  “Bright and early! I might even have a coffee waiting for you. Starbucks.” Annnnd you guessed it. She giggles. I’ll bring her a frickin’ coffee. A coffee that’s spiked with habanero juice.

  And what? Starbucks? That’s my thing. I worked there for years and brought home my bag of coffee every week just for Jag. Java stealing bitch.

  “I should be the one bringing you coffee for all you’re doing for me,” Jag says, flirting right back, and it’s all I can do to keep from stepping out there and glaring at him because everyone knows a woman’s glare has the power to paralyze a man, rendering him useless in zero-point-two seconds. And he needs to be shut down this very instant for talking to my coworker like that. I realize my teeth are clenched as well as my fists. Ugh.

  “Byeeee,” Trina says all sing-songy. Jeez. I hear the front door open and close and then listen to Trina talking to Courtney, the receptionist. “Oh, my God! Is he hot or what? I wouldn’t mind giving him a tongue bath… or two.” She giggles again and when the thought of putting superglue in her antibacterial wash bottle enters my head, I shudder at how low I’ve sunk. When I hear her walking back toward me, I turn and scramble back to my room, going in and shutting the door, leaning against it and breathing hard.

  “You okay?” my hockey player asks from where he lies on the table, and I realize I’m acting like a nincompoop.

  “Yeah, sorry. Just checking to see if the flowers I ordered the boss for his birthday came and they have! I ran back here so he wouldn’t know it was me who sent them,” I lie.

  He nods and I walk over and start putting his knee through some stretches, my mind completely jumbled wondering why Jag was here. Did he come home for a visit and needed some therapy because his shoulder started hurting? I’ll have to try to casually ask Trina the teehee’er about it.

  I finish with the hockey guy and when he sits up, I hand him his brace, helping him put it on. After he stands, I give him his crutches, which he slips under his arms then I walk him out.

  “Hey, Courtney, could you schedule him for the same time Thursday and Friday, please?” I ask.

  “Will do,” she replies.

  “You need to be doing those stretches we worked on at least twice a day if you can handle them. But listen to your knee. If it hurts, stop, okay?” I tell him.

  “Got it.”

  “Okay, see you in two days,” I say then turn to leave.

  As I start down the hallway on my way to Trina’s room, I pass my boss Gary and say hi. Just before he leaves, I hear the hockey player tell him to have a happy birthday and I snort.

  “Knock, knock,” I say when I reach the room Trina’s in.

  “Oh, hey, Ellen. What’s up?” she asks.

  “Nothing. Hey, I wanted to ask you about your last client.”

  “Oh, Jag Jensen? God, he’s so hot! I didn’t see a ring either. Think he’s available?”

  I bite my lips to keep myself from calling her a few choice names. “I don’t know. I was just gonna ask if you know why he’s here?”

  “You haven’t heard? He’s the new pitcher for the Cubs. He used to pitch for the Dodgers but got traded last week, or at least that’s what Gary said.”

  Holy shit. He’s a Cub now? That means he’s back home. Oh, God. Why hasn’t Mom told me this? And why didn’t he call to let me know? Well, of course he didn’t call. You broke up with him, dummy. He’s “not your concern” anymore.

  “No, I haven’t heard. Oh, well, thanks,” I say and leave her room to go clean mine.

  I walk back down the hallway in a daze. Great. Jag’s back.

  When he was gone, I could somewhat ignore things that went on with him. What he supposedly did with other women wasn’t all up in my face unless someone threw one of those crappy gossip magazines at me. Now I get to watch up close and personal all the women who’ll lust after him, getting to see which one he picks to be with. Just one more shitty thing to add to my “Numerous and Sundry Shitty Things in Ellen’s Life” list.

  Fantastic.

  “Why didn’t you tell me Jag’s back?” I accusingly ask my mom when I call her at lunch. I’m sitting in my car outside the deli I just got a sandwich from.

  “What?” She sounds surprised.

  “Mom. He was at the clinic this morning getting therapy. I just about had a heart attack!”

  “Well, Mary hasn’t said a word to me. Of course, I’ve been busy with the benefit dinner your father’s firm is hosting and haven’t talked to her in a couple weeks. But he’s back? As in back for good?”

  “Yeah. He’s now a Cub.” I shake my head wondering how the hell I didn’t know this. Maybe I should watch the news more. Or read a newspaper. Or maybe have a look-see at any of the various media formats available to me in our highly technology-laden world other than gossip rags. Jeez.

  “What? Oh, wow! That’s awesome! He always loved the Cubs,” she says and I cringe, trying to hold myself together.

  And that’s the problem when you date someone you grew up with. Your parents are friends and everybody knows everything about everyone. I barely hold back a sob as Mom goes on saying he finally got his dream team.

  “El?” she says softly. “Honey, are you okay?”

  I start crying now. “No, Mom. I’m not okay.”

  “Aw, sweetie.”

  “H-how am I supposed to deal with this? I mean, I could kinda handle things when it wasn’t all shoved in my face. Now, he’s gonna be right here! And I’m gonna have to hear about it all the time.” I cry harder.

  “Hear about what, honey?”

  And I lose it. “About him dating other women! About how he’s going out with gorgeous movie stars! About how he’s fucking this supermodel or that supermodel! And I can’t take it anymore!”

  Just for a second I freeze up and gasp because I realize I just said fucking to my mom. But at this point I really don’t care. I’m so tired of being hurt and I know that his being back home will only cause more pain for me.

  “Ellen? I want you to stop crying. You hear me?” When I don’t stop, Mom says sternly, “Ellen Reese Love! You stop that, right now!” Great. She’s gonna gripe me out for cussing because I’m only twenty-five, for God’s sake.

  I sniff a couple times and wipe my face with a napkin from my sandwich bag.

  “Are you finished?” she asks.

  I sniff a few more times and mumble, “Yes,” into my phone.

  “Okay. Now, you listen to me. You are a strong, beautiful, intelligent, independent young woman that any man would be lucky to have. And your relationship with Jag has never defined who you are, it’s only enhanced it. And whether he’s got his head on straight and can see what he lost when he let you walk out of his life and he’s now going to try to rectify it, or whether he’s… he’s fucking other wome
n… doesn’t have any bearing on you as a person. You deserve the best, Ellen. The best. I didn’t raise you to think you’re beneath anyone, so you’d better get your own head on straight and realize your worth, you understand?”

  Wow.

  Really, wow. I sit up straighter and wipe my eyes.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too, honey.”

  “Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  “You said fucking.” I start giggling and she joins me.

  “I thought it was necessary at that point. Now, do you get what I’m saying?”

  “Yes, I get it.”

  “You’re going to be okay. I know people keep telling you that, but I promise you are.”

  God, I love my mom.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome, honey. Hey, Thanksgiving’s a week away. How about you bring this Austin guy with you? I think it’s good you’re dating someone else. Even if it doesn’t last, at least you’ve gone out with someone other than Jag, you know?”

  “Yeah. We’ll see.”

  The last time I’d seen Austin was last week when he’d picked me up for dinner. Upon seeing my dress, he’d pinned me against bar and we’d made out for a good ten minutes before I finally stopped us. And then we’d had a talk.

  “I need to tell you that I just went through a bad breakup,” I’d told him.

  “Gathered that.”

  I frowned and looked up at him. “You did?”

  “Look, babe, you’re hot. Sweet. And, not braggin’, but it’s not like I’m all that ugly, so you not responding to me, yeah, I kinda figured you had something going on like that. Plus, I asked one of the girls at the clinic.”

  “What?” Shit. I’d talked to Kacey and Courtney about it right after I’d started working there when they’d invited me to lunch. I hadn’t told them Jag’s name or anything about him, just that I’d broken up with someone. I couldn’t believe one of them blabbed.

  “She only told me you had a break up and that’s all. Sorry if you think I crossed the line.”

  “Well, it’s kind of inappropriate to ask my coworkers stuff. If you wanted to know, why didn’t you just ask me?” I whispered, angry at him for going behind my back.

  “I should have. Look, I’m sorry. I understand if you don’t want to have dinner. But now that we’ve got it out there, we can go slow with this, Ellen.”

  He’d looked at me with sad puppy dog eyes and I couldn’t help but nod in assent. We ended up going to dinner anyway (I didn’t want to waste that dress and my Jimmy Choo’s), but when he took me home, he’d walked me to my door, given me a sweet kiss and left telling me he’d call. We’ve talked almost every night since and he hasn’t put any pressure on me, which has been nice.

  “Okay. There’s a place for him if you decide to bring him,” Mom says.

  “Thanks for everything, Mom. Love you.”

  “Love you too, sweetie,” she says and we hang up.

  I check my face out in my rearview mirror, wiping under my eyes to get rid of any mascara that’s smudged there and head back to the clinic to eat my lunch feeling better than I have in months. Knowing I have my mom behind me this way helps a lot.

  “You are not going to believe this,” I say when Rebecca answers her phone later that night.

  “Austin asked you out again?”

  “No.” I frown. I hate that he’s always being brought up. I mean, can’t I be thinking of something other than a guy? Jeez. But I get it. After the way I’ve been the past four months, I understand that the people around me are kind of excited that I’m moving forward. “Are you sitting down?” I ask.

  “Oh, shit. What’s happened, El?”

  “Jag’s back.” Wait. I just totally contradicted my earlier statement because I’m now talking about a guy. Ugh.

  “What? What do you mean, ‘back’?”

  “He’s a Cub now,” I reply.

  I hear her talking to Ross in the background asking if he knew about this. “What? You knew? And you didn’t tell me? He’s been here since Friday? You found out two weeks ago? You saw him Sunday? Are you out of your mind? God! The one time you decide to actually keep a secret and it’s something this big? Just what other secrets are you keeping from me? Huh? Your ass is so sleeping on the couch tonight!” I hear a door slam then she comes back on the line with me and I know she’s locked herself in their bedroom.

  “I’m gonna kill him! Biggest mouth this side of the Illinois and he keeps this from me!”

  I chuckle at her but then begin thinking about what Ross just said. Jag’s been in town for almost a week and he hasn’t called? I mean, I’d like to think if something big like that happened with me, I’d at least have the courtesy to call and let him know no matter where we stood.

  “I can’t believe he didn’t even call and let me know…” I mutter.

  “Or if your boyfriend,” she yells boyfriend so Ross can hear her, “knows but he doesn’t have the decency,” she yells decency too, “to tell you!”

  “What am I gonna do?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” she answers immediately.

  “Nothing?”

  “Yeah, nothing. You just go on living your life as if he’s not here, okay? If he didn’t think it necessary to let you know, then he doesn’t exist for you,” she says.

  “Uh…”

  “El, I’ve got your back on this, okay? I know what I’m talking about.”

  “Okay…”

  I hope I can do this. I guess as long as I keep ignoring the news (since I don’t watch it and I didn’t even know about this flippin’ trade in the first place), it’ll all be good.

  Maybe.

  Chapter 8

  Jag

  “Great as always, Mom, Starr,” I say.

  We just finished Thanksgiving dinner and my mom and sister always know how to do it up right.

  “Uncle Jag! Will you come outside and throw with me?” my almost thirteen-year-old nephew Finn asks.

  “Me too!” my niece Lark who’s ten adds.

  “Girls can’t throw,” Finn mumbles.

  “Can too! I can throw better than you!”

  “No way.”

  “Yes way!” Lark yells and I chuckle as I stand up from the table.

  “Both of you grab a mitt from the hall closet and we’ll put it to the test. Chad? Wanna come along?” I ask my brother-in-law.

  “Hell no. They put me in the middle of things all the time. I’m tired of being a referee. Go for it,” he says giving me a thumbs up as he plops down on the couch to watch some football.

  Lark races to the closet and starts digging then shoves Finn as he reaches over her and grabs a mitt. He flicks her on the forehead with his finger, which makes her holler that he hit her, which causes my sister to yell at him about not hitting girls. He turns and shakes his head, rolling his eyes at me, and I chuckle. When they finally get their gear, we go out to the front yard and I get my mitt and a baseball out of the back of my Camaro.

  “Finn, you stand over there. Lark, there,” I point out so we form a triangle then we start playing catch. My arm’s a little tight, but I’ve started working on throwing some in the training room, nothing big, just having a ball in my hand and the motion of throwing with no speed behind it, so it feels okay. Plus, Isaac’s told me I should start working on the throwing motion outside of the training room, so I’m thinking this should be good for me. As we continue, I tell them both they’re good and Finn rolls his eyes again knowing I’m only telling Lark that so she won’t throw a tantrum. Not that she’s not good, but he’s definitely better.

  “Told you I was better,” Lark says and sticks her tongue out at her brother. Then I guess since she got her validation from me, she’s now grown tired of throwing and pulls her gloves out of her pockets and starts building a snowman.

  “Whatever,” Finn says and zings one straight into my glove.

  “Good!” I te
ll him. Damn. The kid’s got some talent.

  “I wanna be a pitcher just like you, Uncle Jag,” he says shyly as he catches my throw.

  I raise my eyebrows and poke out my bottom lip surprised. “Yeah?” And I have to admit it’s pretty cool that he wants to be like me.

  “Yeah. I wanna be rich and get all the hot babes.” He throws another cutter and I’m impressed with how he handles the ball.

  I snort. Yeah, I’ve got all the hot babes. There’s only one hot babe I want but I’m not so sure she wants me. And because I’m a wimpy-assed motherfucker, I haven’t even gotten hold of her to let her know I’m back in town, and the longer I wait, the harder it gets to even think of contacting her.

  But I know the real reason I don’t want to talk to her. I don’t want to hear the obligatory, “I need to tell you I’m dating someone,” speech from her because it’d break me. So, by ignoring it all, it means it doesn’t exist.

  Yep. Wimp.

  “Hm,” I mumble and throw him the ball.

  “You went out with Ariana Evans, right? She was in the movie Scared 3. She’s freakin’ hot! I saw your picture with her in People. Mom said it wasn’t real, but I could tell it was. I mean, you only go out with famous pretty girls, right, Uncle Jag?”

  I frown at that. “El’s not famous,” I tell him.

  “Yeah, but you broke up with her because you were dating that supermodel. I saw you in those commercials and you were in a picture with her in Us.”

  What the fuck?

  “C’mere, Finn,” I say.

  He walks over and I put an arm around his shoulders as I lean back against my Camaro. “I didn’t date Ariana or Alessandra. Matter of fact, Alessandra was so jealous of El that she did some bad things and that’s what broke us up. And now I wanna get back together with El, but it’s complicated. So if you’re wanting to play in the pros, right off the bat, you’ve gotta stop believing what’s in those stupid magazines. It’s all lies.”

  Just then, I spot El’s car coming down the street leaving her parents’ after having Thanksgiving dinner, and my heart starts beating like crazy. This is my chance. I’ll wave her over and finally get to talk to her. But as the car gets closer, I see that a man’s driving and I squint to make out who it is. As they pass by, he gives me a head nod. And I’ll be damned. Fucking Austin Eddington. My new teammate I met last Monday.