by Shealy James
After my sobbing subsided, he gently lifted me from the floor and took me back to bed. He climbed into bed keeping me in his arms. “You need to get some sleep, baby.”
“I know, but I can’t turn my brain off.” I snuggled as close to him as I could. “Sorry for waking you.”
He spoke in a whisper as if there was someone else to wake up in the apartment. “I heard you crying. What did Jane say?”
“Basically the same thing. He attacked her in a parking lot and said some really awful things to John. The kids were at my parents’ house when he went tearing through their house looking for me after I left.”
“Hmmm…” That was all he said. He didn’t tense up and get angry and start pacing again. He was just holding me. Even if I could hear the wheels in his head turning, he was giving me what I needed in that moment.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not flipping out again.”
I felt him smile against my hair. “Sure thing, gorgeous.”
“Gorgeous? Disaster is more like it.”
“My gorgeous disaster,” he said with a kiss to the top of my head.
Chapter 20
Grant left shortly after our morning chat to go workout and get dressed for work. I felt bad he ended up with such little sleep. His routine went uninterrupted, though—workout, shower, dress, work, etc. The only difference was he brought me breakfast this morning. He usually only does that if he thinks I’m mad at him, but today I knew he was checking up on me.
“Babe! I brought you a bagel and a coffee. You ready?” he called from the kitchen.
I came out of my room dressed in black ankle pants, flats, and a black and white striped shirt. It wasn’t the dressiest work outfit, but I was not exactly on top of my game. Besides, I would just be in my office all day stuffing menus into vellum sleeves and folding place cards. Who cared what I looked like? Considering my eyes looked like something had been nesting under them, and my brain felt like scrambled eggs, I was pleased to at least have clothes on.
“Thank you,” I told him when I took the coffee and the bacon and egg bagel he brought me.
“You know I love you, right?” Grant said after I gave him a quick kiss.
“Yeah?” I asked suspiciously, noting he was trying to hide his amusement.
“Then you know it is with love when I tell you that you may want to change your shoes.” I looked down and saw that I was wearing one pink and one red shoe. I had forgotten I didn’t pick which one I wanted to wear.
“Fuck!” I huffed and slammed my breakfast down on the counter and then stormed back into the bedroom. In my closet I stood there staring at my shoes, and I couldn’t decide which ones I liked better. It was then that the tears started threatening again. I might have been a little tired and touchy.
Grant came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Go with the red, baby.” I nodded and traded my one pink shoe for the other red one.
I turned in his arms. “I’m sorry. This is the kind of crazy you don’t want to see until way, way later.”
He smiled sweetly. “I like all your crazy. I know you didn’t sleep last night, and now I know what happens. From now on, we’ll be making sure my gorgeous girl gets her eight hours.”
“Yes, please,” I pouted.
“Why don’t you just take a personal day? I could work from home, and you could come and relax at the penthouse. Scott will cook for you, and I could run you a nice bath…maybe join you in it,” he added suggestively with a wiggling of his eyebrows.
I frowned. “I can’t. I have only worked there for less than two months for one thing, but we have the anniversary party on Saturday. There is still so much to do. Whoever thought planning this for the week after the fourth was a good idea deserves to be kicked in the face.”
“You can thank Iris Mitchell for that, and please make sure I’m there when you decide to kick her in the face. I would like to film it and watch it over and over.”
“Grant!” I slapped his arm lightly. “That’s your mother, your deviously manipulative, yet lovely and chic mother.”
“Aww, baby. Don’t make her sound so good. You know she isn’t nearly as pleasant as you described.”
I giggled. “Thank you for making me laugh. We better go if we’re going to make it to work on time.”
He kissed me goodbye in the parking lot, and I knew I wouldn’t see him until late. He had a business dinner, and I planned to go home and go to bed after making a couple more phone calls. I couldn’t wait for this day to be over.
After stuffing menus all morning on the floor of my office, I was struggling to stay awake, let alone get off the floor. That was the moment Nolan and Tara decided to show up.
“Well, hello there, jet setter. What happened to lunch Saturday?”
I roll my eyes. “You know what happened. I was actually visiting Alcatraz while you two were eating salads and wishing they were bread.”
Nolan fisted his hands on his hips. “Visiting a prison on your romantic weekend? I need to have a talk with your charming boyfriend.”
“My idea, Nolan. I wanted to see it since I have never been out there before. I’m from Georgia, remember? East coast. He did the romance thing that night and the next morning.” I winked.
He changed his tune after my wink. “Sounds like I need to talk to my charming boyfriend then.”
“Trouble in paradise?” Tara asked.
“No.” Nolan smiled sadly. “Let’s lunch and complain about our boyfriends over food. You get to go first, T. Misery loves company.”
Over sandwiches, Tara told us about Daniel’s busy life. That paired with Tara’s busy life resulted in a slow-moving relationship. Nolan had a slightly different problem. He and Maddox were always out together without being together. Maddox had been dragging Nolan along to more and more events where his father was, without actually telling his father the truth. Tara thought it was because Maddox was hoping his dad would figure it out, so he wouldn’t have to tell him.
“Eve, you’re up,” Nolan said.
“I don’t have any problems with Grant. He’s very attentive both in public and at home. Does complaining about his mother count?” I asked.
“No.” Tara shook her head. “This is where we all find out that Grant is actually a normal guy and not the perfect catch we all think he is.”
“Sorry. This conversation is all a little depressing for me, and I don’t need additional depressing shit in my life. Can we please move on to a new topic?”
“Okay.” Nolan leaned in like he was about to go in for the kill. “Why did your boyfriend call me and tell me to make sure you actually ate your lunch?”
“He did what?” I snapped.
He pointed to my plate where I had torn my sandwich apart without actually eating much of it. “What’s going on, E?”
“I might be under a bit of stress, and my stomach constantly feels queasy when I have stuff going on. I have a hard time keeping it down. I can think of few things that are worse than vomiting, so I don’t risk it. It’s no big deal. I mean, do you two want me to upchuck in front of you?”
“If it isn’t a big deal, why is Grant calling me to check up on you?”
Tara frowned. “When did you last eat? And is this about yesterday?”
Nolan’s brow furrowed. “What happened yesterday?”
“Eve found out some information about her ex yesterday before we left work,” Tara told him.
“Tara!”
“What?” She looked surprised at my annoyance. “You would have told him eventually. Now, when was your last meal, and I mean actual meal? Did you eat breakfast? I mean protein, carbs, and all the things that go into a well-balanced meal.”
I threw my napkin down. “Look, I appreciate your concern and all, but I don’t need this right now. Nolan, tell Grant that if he wants to check up on me then he should do it himself. You know what? Don’t tell him that, because I don’t need anyone else to communicate
for me.” I threw some cash on the table and stood up. “I have some work to finish.”
As I walked away I heard Tara slap Nolan. “Nice going, dumbass.”
I called Grant on my walk back to my office, and he answered on the third ring. “Hey, baby. You all right?”
“Getting Nolan to check up on me? What? Too busy to make sure your crazy girlfriend was eating?”
“Eve.” His voice was a warning.
“Do you know what lunch was just like? They had a million questions and were looking at me like I need to go straight to the psych ward.”
“Can we talk about this later?”
“No need, Grant. Did it occur to you that adding to the stress doesn’t help? If you’re going to be part of the problem, then please leave me alone until I get the last problem dealt with.” I hung up the phone and threw it in my purse. As expected, it started ringing right away, but the only reason I pulled it out of my purse was to turn it off.
I finished the rest of my work in the conference room so I could ignore my ringing office phone. Thankfully the student worker didn’t work on Tuesdays, and Tara was in meetings and then running over to the building where the party was being held on Saturday, so no one was there to ruin my peaceful afternoon. Once I had taken care of everything I could, I left right at five. I drove home as quickly as I could and changed into comfortable clothes, leaving my work clothes on the floor.
I grabbed a pillow and blanket then headed out to my comfortable grey couch. I settled in and picked up my phone to make the phone call I had been waiting all day to make. When I turned on my phone, I ignored the voicemails and text messages from Grant, Nolan, and Tara. Instead, I found the Florida number I was looking for and hit send.
A sweet older woman’s voice answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Stevens. It’s Eve.”
“Oh! Hello, dear. How are you?” Mark’s mom was the kind of lady who made you cookies and lemonade when you walked in her door. She was almost too kind to visitors, but her relationship with Mark was a whole other ballgame. He was a mama’s boy, and if anyone could whip him into shape, it was Mary Ann Stevens. It really was too bad that she moved to Florida when she retired. Mark would have probably been better off had his Mama been there to tell him what to do.
“I’m not doing great, to be honest. Listen, I don’t know how much Mark has told you, but things weren’t going well for us. I filed for divorce eleven months ago.”
“What? Evie, I had no idea. Mark acts like you are always busy when I call. I thought you were upset with me, especially when Mark cancelled your trip over Christmas. I tried to call your cell, but your number was disconnected, and then a Hispanic man answered a couple of months later.”
“I’m so sorry that I didn’t call. Things were…bad. I wasn’t exactly communicating with anyone. When I finally had myself together again, I figured Mark had convinced you that I was to blame, and I just couldn’t take that.”
“Oh, honey, no. I know how Mark can be, and a mother can always tell when her boy is lying. I knew he wasn’t being truthful, but I had no idea this is what he was keeping from me. Is he still drinking?”
“Yes, ma’am, and from what my parents and sister have told me, it’s gotten really bad.”
“Evie, don’t you worry. I’ll take care of him. I’ll be on the phone with him first thing in the morning. No use calling him now. I’m sure he’s already three sheets to the wind.” No one could say this mother didn’t know her son.
After that phone conversation, I felt relieved. I knew she would get the truth out of him, and by the time I was back in Georgia, Mark should be more agreeable. If he gave his mama any trouble, I would be willing to bet Mary Ann Stevens would be present at the mediation with our attorneys.
I heated up some leftover Thai and watched a few minutes of a movie before falling asleep on the couch. I was woken up hours later when I was lifted off the couch. “Grant?”
“Yeah, baby. It’s me,” he told me as he kissed my forehead.
“Why are you here?” I asked as I nuzzled my face against his neck, smelling his cologne and him.
“I’m putting you to bed.” He gently placed me on my bed, but stayed close to me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close.
“Are you staying?”
“Do you want me to stay?”
I sighed against him. “Yeah. I want you to stay.”
“Good. I missed you today. I hated knowing you were upset, and I couldn’t get to you.” He kissed my lips and stood up to undress. I climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Grant followed me. “We had investors in the office from New York for just today, so I couldn’t leave the negotiation without compromising everything. When Maddox told me Nolan was going to be eating lunch with you, I figured I would call Nolan to check on you for me. I didn’t think about how he would handle my request to take care of you when I couldn’t be there.”
I spit into the sink before turning and looking up to his unreadable expression. “There are some things no one needs to know about. It only makes it harder.”
“I know, babe.” He sighed unhappily. “After seeing that picture of you, I swore to myself you would never hurt like that again. Yesterday was so hard for you, and you wouldn’t eat dinner, then this morning was no better. I was worried about you and felt helpless, and that feeling doesn’t sit well with me. I thought if I could just get you to eat, if I could get you to do that one thing, I would feel like I was doing something for you.”
“You did help me. You were here for me.” I wrapped my arms around his middle. “You will also be happy to know I ate leftovers for dinner and slept for a few hours.”
He frowned. “So, all it took was for me not to be around you for you to feel like you could eat?”
“No. I called Mark’s mother. She made me feel better. I bet by next week, I’ll be officially divorced in the eyes of Georgia law,” I said proudly.
He smiled and pressed his lips to mine. “Let’s hope so, baby. Now, you ready to go to bed?”
I smiled flirtatiously up at him. “It depends on what you want to do when we get there.”
He smiled brightly at me. “There’s my gorgeous girl. I was missing you.”
Chapter 21
My life in numbers:
40. The number of days I have lived in Seattle.
30. The number of minutes in my shower before the water gets cold.
29. The number of days I have known Grant.
20. The number of dresses I tried on for the anniversary party.
19. The number of days Grant and I have been officially together.
18. The number of days it has rained since I moved to Seattle.
17. The number of minutes it took to tell Grant goodbye in the parking lot this morning.
16. The number of times I told myself not to tell Grant when I fly home.
15. The number of times I have considered telling Grant when I fly home.
12. The number of red roses in the bouquet on my desk this morning.
11. The number of minutes it took me to drive to work since I was running late.
10. The number of hours I slept last night including my nap.
9. The number of times I have been to the gym since I moved to Seattle.
8. The number of messages I received yesterday from Nolan and Tara.
7. The number of times my mother has called since Monday.
6. The number of days until my mediation is scheduled.
5. The number of purple hyacinths in the bouquet this morning.
4. The number of outfits I went through before I was finally dressed.
3. The number of giant pancakes Grant brought me in bed this morning.
2. The number of times I “thanked” him for the pancakes this morning.
1. The number of people on my mind this very minute…Grant.
0. The number of times I have actually told Grant when I fly to Georgia.
N
eedless to say, Wednesday morning was a much better morning for me. I’d had my coffee and breakfast, my morning orgasms, plenty of rest…I was floating on cloud nine while ignoring the darker parts of my life. I truly believed it would all be taken care of this morning after my phone call to his sweet mama, but God himself couldn’t have predicted how the rest of my day would go.
Tara came in with a mocha for me and an apology. I had already forgiven her and Nolan for their interrogation yesterday, so it was completely unnecessary but still appreciated. Moving on with our day, we tested bows for the chair sashes, and quickly agreed to a silver chiavari chair with a white cushion and a black double wrap sash with a center tie knot. With one task accomplished, we went our separate ways for a little while to finish a few tasks. I ran to the venue to make sure they set up the lighting properly then headed over to the rental company to give them the final numbers and double check that they had the correct china, chairs, sashes, table cloths, and dance floor pulled.
I was feeling beyond accomplished when I brought lunch back for us, but walking into Tara’s office erased all good feelings I had built up throughout the day. She looked devastated and disheveled.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as I set the bags on the conference table over by the window.
She shook her head and her eyes filled with tears. “I have some bad news. It’s really bad news, and I would rather do anything than have to tell you this news, especially this week of all weeks.”
I sat down on the edge of the chair facing her desk. “What’s going on? You’re scaring me.”
She took a deep breath and then said, “Human Resources called me. Apparently they reevaluated the budget at the end of June. Someone was supposed to contact me last week, but the paperwork became lost in the campus mail. At the end of the next pay period—” She stopped and pressed her lips together.
“What?”
“Your job’s been eliminated.” She spoke very quickly, like she was spitting the words out of her mouth. “I feel terrible because I convinced you to move out here and now there’s no job for you. They want me to cut back on events and share the planning of them with the departments. The lecture this Wednesday will be the last one my department manages. I’ll only be handling special events and fundraisers…alone.”