The Replacement

by Wade, Rachael

  The destination is Paris, France. Charles de Gaulle International Airport (CDG). The flight leaves three days from now and returns to Seattle-Tacoma International Airport seven days later. My hand cups my mouth and wetness sneaks up on my lids. I glance back to the bedroom, my gaze landing on my dream jar. There’s certainly enough there to pay for a hotel stay. Enough for food. I’ll have to be thrifty, but I can swing it. This is what I’ve wanted. This is what I’ve been waiting for. This is my dream. This is everything.

  But it’s from Ryder.

  I broke his heart, then trampled on it. He met Christian. He knows about Nate. He knows about everything. There are no more secrets, no more barriers between us. Nothing that protects him from the ugly truth. Accepting his love is frivolous enough. How will I ever accept this on top of that luxury? And how did he pay for this? Airfare to Europe is a fortune, and while I know Ryder isn’t broke, he’s certainly not raking in the dough. He lives in a tent six months out of the year, for crying out loud. Granted, that’s by choice, but this…this is too much.

  I ditch my internal debate and dash for the bedroom, slipping on some clean clothes. I don’t bother checking my reflection in the mirror. My wet hair is tied back and will give me a chill when I step out into the December air, and my eyes are probably swollen and puffy from crying, but I don’t care. I hightail it out the door and jump in my car.

  ***

  When I arrive at Stella’s, I’m surprised to see that Jay isn’t wiping down tables or greeting customers. He isn’t anywhere in sight, in fact, but I know he’s here. He’s here almost every morning around this time, and his car’s parked out front. Instead I see Natalie waiting on a section near the breakfast bar. She looks up as she takes a table’s order, eyeing me for a moment. Just as quickly, she averts her eyes and resumes scribbling on her notepad.

  “Brad,” I say, zipping to the other end of the restaurant, “is Jay back there?” I nod to the kitchen, where Brad has just come from. He’s carrying two plates of French toast and looking pretty ragged.

  “Hey babe,” he shakes his head as if trying to wake himself up, “nope, not in the kitchen. Maybe he stepped out for a few.”

  “His car’s here.”

  “Huh.” Brad serves the plates to his customers with a tired smile and turns back to me. “A smoke break, maybe? I haven’t seen him since I clocked in. Try his office.”

  I thank him and begin to race on by, but he stops me. “Hey, you doing okay? Jay mentioned you weren’t feeling good or something.” He lowers his chin and his tone follows. “Things cool with you and Natalie? I mean, after…ya know.” The customers he’s just served suddenly turn eyes on me, sneering like they know exactly what Brad is referring to.

  They probably do.

  “God, you too?” I ask in a harsh whisper. “I don’t have time for this.” I spin around toward the kitchen and he jogs after me.

  “Elise,” he begs, “come on, everyone knows now. I’m just asking if you’re okay, that’s all.”

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “Are you really?” Something in his tone makes me stop. I slowly turn to face him and he almost runs into me. “Just because we quit hooking up doesn’t mean I quit caring, you know. We’ve known each other a long time.”

  Sighing and biting my lip, I gently touch his shoulder. “I know. Thanks. I’ll be okay, really. But I really need to speak to Jay. It’s important.”

  “Do your thing, girl. We’ll talk later.”

  I nod and hurry into the kitchen, dodging the cooks and other waiters as I make my way to Jay’s office. Plates pass over my head while arms extend to reach for them, and billows of steam fill the air. Bacon sizzles and pots and pans clang, causing me to jump as I pass by. Even the cooks’ voices make me flinch. They’re louder, with more bite, more bass. Every sound seems to jump out and brush my skin.

  It takes me a few seconds to register that I’m standing in front of Jay’s office door. It’s down the hall from the kitchen. It’s closed.

  Unusual.

  I snap out of the funk I’m in, breaking the hypersensitive bubble I’ve slipped into, and raise my hand to knock.

  “Yes?” Jay’s voice calls out from the other side. I let myself in, swinging the door open with a deep breath. There’s a woman sitting in the chair across from his desk, the back of her head to me.

  “Oh, sorry,” I mumble. “Didn’t realize you were meeting with someone. I can come back.”

  Jay’s face falls when he sees me. He scratches under his chin and shifts in his seat, eyes bouncing between me and the woman he sits across from. She doesn’t turn to look at me, but I notice the tension in her shoulders and arms. Her hands grip the armrests, fingers clenching the black plastic.

  “Uh, hon, now’s not really a good time. It would be best if you came back later.”

  “Okay, when’s a good time? Because it’s really important. It’s about Ryder and whatever you arranged with him.”

  “Give me another hour or so.” His gaze flicks forward again and then back to me, his expression grim. I bristle, not used to seeing Jay so uncomfortable.

  “No,” the woman’s voice interjects. Her back stiffens and she pries her hands from the chair armrests. Jay quickly stands and shoves his hands in his pockets, panic flushing his face.

  “Elise,” he quips, “you should really go.”

  The woman stands with him and carefully steps away from the chair, then turns to face me. My heart lurches against my ribcage when I come face to face with Tim’s fiancée.

  “Cheryl.” Jay hurries around the desk. “Please, don’t.”

  “Don’t worry,” she sneers, sizing me up. “I’m leaving. I have nothing more to say to you. But you,” she cuts me a glare and takes a step forward, lifting her chin, “I have a few things to say to you.”

  “Cheryl,” Jay continues to plead, “I’m begging you. Not here. Come on, this isn’t the place.”

  “Oh really? Do tell me where the place is, Jay. Tell me when it’s a good time to tell this bitch exactly what I think of her.”

  My palms begin to sweat and the room starts to spin. I don’t know what Cheryl’s doing here, talking to Jay about me and Tim. Jay mentioned Cheryl knew Tim was unfaithful, but why this? Why now?

  “We’ve discussed this,” he speaks sternly, nervously tapping his legs through his pant pockets. “You knew Tim was running around.”

  “I demand you let her go.”

  “What?” I pipe up, looking to Jay. “Please Jay, you can’t—”

  “Cheryl, you’re out of line and that’s an irrational demand.” Jay starts for the door and I step aside, clearing the way. He holds it open, gesturing for Cheryl to leave. “If you’re going to cause a scene, then I need you to leave. Do not do this here. Not in my restaurant.”

  “Irrational?” she scoffs, brows reaching sky high. “What’s irrational is that you’re keeping this slut employed when you know damn well she’s been having an affair with your brother.”

  “I cannot fire an employee based on that accusation.” He grinds his teeth and looks down. “This is inappropriate and I won’t allow you to insult her under my roof, do you hear me?”

  I want to speak up, want to say that I’m standing right here and I hate that they’re talking about me like I’m not right in front of them, but I hold my tongue. I respect Jay and I know it’s not my place.

  “I’m sorry,” I say quietly. It’s the only safe thing to say, even though I know Cheryl will only reject it and that it will anger her more.

  “Wow.” She tightens her purse strap on her shoulder. “You’re sorry. She’s sorry,” she waves to me and looks to Jay. “Accusation? It’s a fact, Jay. And you’re defending her. We are family.”

  “Were family,” Jay corrects her, lifting his gaze to hers. “That’s enough, Cheryl. It’s over.”

  “You’re right,” Cheryl nods, moving to stand in front of me. My muscles twitch as her presence hovers, but I don’t avoid her stare. I
look right into her eyes. I owe her that much. A sharp sting spreads across my cheek as she brings her hand up to slap me. She finishes off her retaliation by spitting in my face. “How’s that for appropriate?” She storms past us and out the office door and Jay sighs, handing me a tissue box from the top of the filing cabinet.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I murmur, taking the box. He shuts the door and gestures for me to sit as I wipe at my face with a tissue.

  “I don’t care what you did, she has no right to treat you like that.” His voice is sullen, and I can’t help but ache at his words. Why couldn’t he be my father? Why couldn’t there be more like him?

  “I deserved it, Jay. It is what it is.”

  He tinkers with his pen holder for a second, then meets my eyes. “Well, she’s leaving him. Finally.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, you said that.”

  “Look, I know I put you in a tough position here. Sincerely, I apologize. I’m…defective, or something. But you already know that.” My gaze drops and I pick at a small tear at the knee of my jeans. How in the hell do I broach the conversation I came to have with him after this?

  “You’re here about the trip to France.”

  I lift my head.

  “Go on, say what you came to say.”

  “I don’t expect you to actually give me that time off. Especially not after…” I shrug a shoulder. “I just wanted to know if this was for real. Ryder really came to you about this?”

  He nods stoically. “He arranged everything.”

  “And you agreed?”

  “Of course I did. The kid is crazy about you.”

  “You just like him because he bribes you with presents and swaps cute puppy stories.” A small smile tickles the corner of my mouth, even though I know it’s still too soon to lighten the mood. I can’t help it, though. Jay is such a softie.

  “Maybe.” He arches a brow, his expression unflinching. “I also like him because he’s real. Honest. Unlike all the other schmucks you seem to run around with.”

  I shift in my seat. “Yeah, well…”

  He holds up a hand and shuts his eyes. “I’m not about to lecture you on your choice in men, hon. Been there, done that, right?” His eyes open and narrow on me intently, the cogs in his mind working. “I am, however, going to tell you to take Ryder’s gift. And mine.” Rolling his chair backward, he swivels and dips into the desk drawer, pulling out a white envelope.

  “What’s this?”

  “Just open it.”

  I don’t hesitate, swiftly ripping at the flap. “A reservation?” I ask, studying the piece of paper.

  “Consider it a Christmas bonus.”

  “What?” My eyes bulge as I take in the hotel reservation. It’s for six nights at the Villa Beaumarchais Hotel in Paris. “How in the world did you pay for this? Jay, this is too much. I couldn’t possibly accept—”

  “You can, and you will. Shelley, Ryder and I all chipped in to make it happen. It’s a done deal.”

  “But who will cover for me while I’m gone? This had to cost a fortune. I can’t even…Jay, I just can’t take this.” I don’t want to offend him; I certainly don’t want to hurt his pride. But the reality is he and his wife Shelley live a modest life, and it’s Christmas time. This kind of financial gift had to have been a heavy burden—much heavier of a burden than Jay is letting on. Not to mention he’s giving it to someone like me. Has he lost his mind?

  “Elise, you’re sucking the joy from the whole gift-giving thing. Accept it and be happy, will you, hon?”

  “Happy?” I scoff, standing to my feet. “Happy doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling right now.” A myriad of emotions barrels through me. My face is growing hot and tears are burning my throat. “Why on Earth would you do something like this for me?”

  “Because I care for you, hon. We care for you. Love you.”

  “I don’t deserve this.” I set the envelope on the edge of the desk, slowly backing away. My hands are shaking and my skin is crawling. “I don’t deserve any of this, Jay. God, if you only knew.”

  Jay suddenly stands and moves swiftly to my side, smacking his hand on the desk to swipe up the tickets and hotel reservation. The papers crumple and he grabs my fist, handing them to me. His nostrils flare and eyes flash with persistence. “You’re taking this,” he demands, closing my hand around them. “You can’t accept it? Guess what, Elise? That’s not our problem. That’s yours. And the only way you’re going to figure out how to accept it is to march back home, look in the goddamn mirror, and see what we see. Take a good, hard, long look.”

  “Jay, I—”

  “Go!” he shouts, waving to the door. “I don’t want to see your face at this restaurant until you return from France, you hear me?”

  My mouth is agape, my mind is scattered. I blink, my eyes dropping to the gift in my hands. It’s heavy as lead and sweet as sunshine. I pivot and slowly turn away, the papers sticking to my sweaty palms. Jay doesn’t say another word. His chair squeaks as he sits back down. I hear the shuffle of paper and the rattle of his pen holder as he clears his throat. I look back over my shoulder as I open the door, lips still parted, thirsty for words. Nothing quenches them. I steel myself and walk out, hurrying back through the bustling kitchen and out to my car. I start the engine, but I’m stuck staring at the steering wheel. Jay and Ryder’s gift sits on my lap, and my hands are limp at my sides.

  I don’t want to go home.

  My phone blips and I fish it from my bag, finding a text from Christian. He’s just checking to see how I’m doing. I should be asking how he’s doing. I should call him, but I can’t. All I can think about is the generous, completely unwarranted gesture resting on my lap right now. All I can think about are Ryder’s words to me last night. Jay’s words, back in his office. Cheryl’s confrontation, Natalie’s cold shoulder, and even the horror of my interaction with Kylie are steam rolled by the overwhelming swell of my heart.

  My hand snaps forward and I shift into reverse. I’m in tunnel vision as I pull out of Stella’s parking lot and on to the main road to head toward Ryder’s cabin. I’m not sure if he works today or if he’s even home, but I know I need to see him. I can’t call first. This isn’t a conversation to have on the phone, and besides, words still fail me.

  It’s not long before I’m rolling up to Ryder’s cabin. I park next to his Jeep and hurry up to the front door, nervous energy rocking through me like a tumultuous storm. I fidget with my car keys as I knock, fidget with my hair and scarf. I shift from right foot to left, willing him to answer the door before I chew my bottom lip off. Voices murmur from inside, and I turn to where our cars are parked, looking for another vehicle. He must have company, but I don’t see another car.

  The door finally swings open and a pretty blonde answers, looking frustrated. “Yes?” Her lips are pursed tight and her jaw is stern, her eyes studying me from top to bottom. They do a quick sweep and settle on my stunned gaze. I glance behind her, searching for Ryder.

  “Um, hi. I was wondering if Ryder’s home?”

  “He is. And you are?”

  “I’m…I’m Elise. A friend.”

  “Elise,” she says my name like she’s tasting it. “I don’t think Ryder’s mentioned you.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” My fingers grip my purse strap, and my keys cut into my palm. There is a small, colored tattoo just beneath her ear. It’s ugly as sin, and I doubt it’s the only one on her body. There are probably more. In unmentionable places.

  “I’m Lauren. Ryder’s fiancée.”

  My heart stalls and I stop breathing. Words stutter from my lips, but they’re unintelligible. I try again, pushing them out carefully. “I’m sorry, his…fiancée?”

  “Mmhmm,” she says matter-of-factly, extending her hand to show me her ring. It’s small and elegant. Something Ryder would pick out. After she shows me the ring, she cups her belly, and it’s then that my gaze drops to the round bump she’s spo
rting.

  Air bleeds from my lungs.

  My mind rejects the sight before me. Everything turns hazy, turning my world upside down. This isn’t real. There’s no way in hell. “And you’re expecting?” I breathe, feeling my face pale.

  “We are.” She smiles sweetly, but it’s fake. False to the core. “It’s cold out here. Would you like to come in? Ryder will be right out. He just stepped into the bedroom to make a phone call.”

  “No,” I mumble, backing away from the door. “That’s okay. Thanks.”

  “I insist.” Her fake smile brightens and she widens the door, beckoning me to step inside. My heart, my mind, and the adrenaline pumping through my veins compel me to dash for my car and peel out of there as fast as fucking possible. To never come back. I start to listen to those instincts, turning on my heel.

  “Really, it’s okay. I have to get going.” I only make it two steps before Ryder’s calling out to me, joining Lauren at the door.

  “Elise,” he greets me cautiously, and when I bring my gaze to his, I see the fear lurking in his irises, just like it’s simmering in mine. Only his is a different brand of fear. His is swimming in guilt, and mine…mine is drowning in dread. “Come in, will you?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Lauren quips, turning for the kitchen. Her gaze rolls to Ryder and she smirks as she passes him. “I love to meet Ryder’s friends.”

  “Elise,” Ryder says sternly, voice almost a whisper. “I can explain. Please, come in.”

  My heart is still thumping wildly in my chest and my brain is playing tug-of-war with my emotions. Part of me wants to flee, to run as fast as humanly possible from this crime scene—that is exactly what this will be if I stay here a second longer.

  But another part, one I want to banish to some deep, dark place, wants to walk through that door, to hear what Ryder has to say.

  “Only for a second,” I agree, taking a wary step inside. Ryder hurries to the kitchen, where Lauren is transferring freshly baked cookies from a pan to a Christmas dish. My stomach churns. Here she is, Ryder’s ex-turned-fiancée, baking cookies and playing house.