Finish What You Started

by Alexandra Evans

  “Tomorrow?” She wanted to say yes, but she needed to think. She needed to plan what to do in case Abernathy decided to make trouble for her.

  “You have a busy day with the afternoon game tomorrow.” She stepped into her house and turned to him. “Let’s just see how things go.”

  “Okay.” He stood there on her front porch, hands in his pockets, puppy dog look on his face as she closed the door. She heard his car start a couple of minutes later, and it was a few minutes more before he pulled out of the driveway.

  11

  Ty didn’t speak to Harper on Sunday. Not that he hadn’t tried. He’d texted, called, but she wasn’t answering. He understood why she was pissed. She could potentially lose her job because of him. That day after he found out he couldn’t drop her class, he should have insisted they wait. He shouldn’t have allowed their hormones to take over and jumped her like she was a bowl of pasta after a long day of practice.

  But he had and he did, and now it seemed as if it was done. Over.

  “Hey, decent game, Johansen.”

  Pitcher Dance Holloway wandered into the clubhouse and sat next to him on the game room sofa. They were the only ones left after a game that ended with a 7-5 loss to the god-awful Cubs. “You had a good game too. Too bad they decided to pull you for Spence in the seventh.”

  “At least the loss won’t go on my stats,” Dance replied. He took a deep breath before adding, “Dude, you looked like you were in pain out there. Do you need the number of my ortho guy?”

  He wasn’t wrong. The knee had given Ty problems since he’d hit the field for warm-ups. He’d iced between innings, taken pain relievers before and during the game, and it had dimmed the throbbing, but it was still there. Even now. “Nah, I’ve got an Orthopedic Surgeon wanting to cut my knee open right now, but…”

  “You don’t want to fix it?”

  “That would end things, Dance.” He ran his fingers through his still-damp hair and leaned back against the soft leather of the sofa. “There wouldn’t be any coming back for me after surgery.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.” Dance leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Other guys have come back after surgeries.”

  “Other guys weren’t thirty-two-year-old catchers with artificial knees.” Ty felt agitated suddenly and stood to walk over, grab a cue and rack up the balls. “Once I commit to that, I’m done.”

  “That’s fucked.”

  “Yeah,” Ty replied, then slammed his stick into the cue ball, hitting it so hard, a couple of balls hopped off the table and rolled across the floor. “It is.”

  The next day, Ty sat in front of his computer, outlining his third essay for comp class. Another ten weeks to go before the end of the semester, and three more essays to write. He knew Harper would evaluate his work extra hard because of their relationship and any hint of impropriety that might result from them being seen, so he’d have to put a lot of effort into everything he wrote. He’d been using a lot of the writing tips she’d given to the class—they really were helpful—and hoped she noticed the extra effort he had put into this next paper when she read it.

  Harper still wasn’t answering his calls. Granted, it’d only been a couple of days, but he’d thought she would at least let him know she was okay or answer one of the ten texts he’d sent her or the phone call that had gone unanswered. He could take the hint, though, and leave her alone until she was ready.

  He was trying to think of some grand gesture he could do for her the next time they spoke when an email pinged in his inbox from the university. Minimizing his Word document, he opened his email account and clicked on the link.

  Dear Mr. Johansen,

  It has come to our attention that you and one of our professors may have been involved in a personal relationship. The professor in question, Ms. Harper Manning, has confirmed this relationship, and as a result, she has been removed from her position at the university.

  You may not be aware of a university policy that forbids fraternizing with students. You can understanding the university’s position in letting Ms. Manning go. Any hint of a professor defying our rules could cause major issues and would naturally call your grade in that class into question.

  Due to nature of this relationship, we have removed you from the roster of Composition I. You will be allowed to take this course again under a different instructor in order to complete your degree here at the University of Memphis. Dr. Gerald Abernathy will be assuming Ms. Manning’s position in the English Department, and I’m sure he would be willing to work with you around your schedule and online learning needs.

  Please accept our apologies that this action was necessary. Due to the unexpectedness of this dismissal, the university will be submitting a full refund to you for the course. You should expect a check in the mail in four to six weeks.

  Thank you in advance for your understanding in this matter.

  Sincerely,

  Frances Warren

  Frances Warren

  Bursar

  Southland University

  Fuck. Shit. Fuck! He needed to see Harper. Now.

  12

  Since she’d been called into the dean’s office at eight this morning, Harper had been all kinds of pissed off, alternately crying—the mad kind, not the sad kind—and screaming at the walls. She’d even been mean to the boy at Starbucks, where she stopped for the most fattening pastry and coffee drink she could find on the menu, even though her newly restricted budget probably couldn’t handle the price tag. Damn Gerry Abernathy. He must have figured out Ty was her student. Of course he did. He could easily find out about the special arrangements made for the baseball player through the office grapevine. He would have known who it was, and he’d been out to get her spot on the tenure track since he’d joined the staff as an adjunct two years ago. They’d given him the perfect opportunity, and, like the snake he was, he’d taken it.

  The doorbell rang, and Harper looked through the peephole to find LaTanya waiting on the other side of her door. Word must have spread fast if her best friend had already heard the news all the way in the biology building and had time to get here by noon. Harper swung open the door, and LaTanya rushed in, dropping a bag into the chair nearest the door.

  “Oh, sweetie,” she said, wrapping her arms around Harper and giving her a hard squeeze. “Those stupid people. They are making the biggest mistake letting you go.”

  “They were within their rights,” Harper admitted, motioning for her friend to come inside as she closed the door. “I did break the rules. Damn Abernathy. He must have called the dean as soon as he figured out the connection. We weren’t discreet enough, LaTanya. You warned me. I should have listened.”

  “Abernathy saw you? With Tyler? When? Where?” LaTanya took her hand and pulled her over to the sofa, pushing Harper down into the fluffy cushions and settling in beside her. “Details, girl.”

  Harper took a deep breath and told her the gory details, even the romantic ones about the plans Ty’d made, about when she’d flipped the boat over trying to get to that bee. “Ty knew we couldn’t be seen in public, yet he took me to one of the most public places there is.”

  “A state park an hour from the city?” LaTanya frowned at her. “That’s the most public place there is?”

  “Yes! Memphis people go there all the time.” Harper puffed at a lock of hair that had fallen in her eyes. “He should have known that.”

  “Did you tell him that when he told you where you were going?”

  “No. We were already on the way, and he didn’t tell me, I guessed.”

  “So, he made these romantic plans, and you never told him it was too public so you could maybe detour?”

  “No.” Harper felt her bottom lip tip out like a pouting child.

  LaTanya pointed her finger in the air. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t he want to wait to see you until the semester was over?”

  “Yes, but—”

  She held up her hand. “But you insis
ted it would be okay as long as you kept a low profile.”

  “Right.” Harper pointed a finger of her own. “You told me as long as I was discreet, it would be okay.”

  “But a park an hour away wasn’t low profile enough?” Her friend shrugged. “It’s not like he took you down to Beale Street or paraded you over at the Rendezvous. He planned something an hour away, in a state park, out in the wilderness, just because he thought it would be safe. Fun. Romantic. Right? And don’t blame me ’cause you got caught. I told you to be careful.”

  “Yes, but shut up.” Harper twisted her lips in a rueful look. “You’re making too much sense.”

  “So, really, this isn’t Tyler’s fault at all.” LT raised her brows. “It’s really…now, I hate to say this, but it’s really your fault for not wanting to wait. And it’s kind of fate. Don’t you think? I mean, that’s what I think.”

  “Stop it. I need to be mad at someone besides myself, okay?”

  “’Cause he’s the easy target. Girl, let me tell you something. If he’s as good as you say he is, good as you’ve been telling me, he’s a keeper. You need to step down off that pity pedestal you’ve put yourself on and wake the hell up. There aren’t many guys out there, especially guys like Tyler Johansen, who could have any woman they wanted, who would have been willing to wait for months like he said he would, to get into your pants. You know I’m right.”

  Harper’s shoulders sagged. “You’re right.”

  “So, what is your problem? Call that boy. But not right now. I’m all primed and ready for some wine and chocolate.”

  LaTanya made herself at home, grabbing two glasses from the kitchen. She swiped the cotton bag she’d left in the chair and pulled out two bottles of wine, a bottle of Jose Cuervo, three limes, and two large bags of individually wrapped chocolate bars. She twisted the cap off the first bottle of wine and poured them both a generous glass. “I’m telling you, wine and chocolate used to sound disgusting to me, but since I tried it…”

  “Lawrence’s idea?”

  “Don’t mention that man,” LaTanya said with a frown.

  “What happened?” Harper had thought they were the perfect couple, engaged within six months, although they had never set a date. “Here I am with my pity party, and you’ve broken up with your fiancé? I’m so sorry, LaTanya.”

  “Oh, please.” LaTanya set her glass down on the table and opened the first bag of chocolate, Ghirardelli’s dark chocolate and raspberry squares, and poured them onto the coffee table. “I am nearly thirty years old, and I want a family, so if some guy doesn’t have staying power with me,” she declared, pointing to her chest, “I don’t have time for him. You’re not getting any younger either, you know. You need to start thinking that way too.”

  Harper unwrapped one of the chocolate squares and popped it into her mouth. Dark chocolate, the slightly tangy raspberry bursting on her tongue. When she took a sip of the white wine, the flavor combination was amazing, like adding Chambord to champagne, but without the bubbles.

  “That’s wonderful,” she said around the melting chocolate.

  “I know, right?” LaTanya tossed back her own chocolate/wine combo and rolled her eyes. “At least Lawrence was good for something besides sex. I tell you, if I didn’t want the whole family thing, I’d just go with this and say screw men. The ones I’ve been with, anyway. This is a much better orgasmic experience.”

  “Mmm.” Harper could agree, at least about her ex, Kyle.

  “So, how is your boy in bed? He only hit the high spots, or does he do it deep?”

  Harper felt her face blazing. “LaTanya! Your mother would be appalled at your mouth.”

  “Who you think I get it from?” She laughed. “Woman cusses like a sailor. So, you didn’t answer. Is he any good?”

  “He’s pretty good.”

  “Just pretty good?”

  “Okay, he’s amazing,” she said, warming to the subject. “He wanted to wait, and we did the bases stuff, you know, like in high school. Until Saturday.”

  “Oooh, and you did it in the park.”

  “No, on my bed! Before we went to the park,” she replied. “God, you have a dirty mind. Stop imagining it. I can see the wheels turning in your head. That’s gross!”

  “So, was he worth it?” her friend asked as she polished off her glass of wine and poured another. “You’re going to stick with him, right? I mean, you did get fired for him.”

  “I didn’t get fired for him.” Harper poured herself another glass of wine, emptying the bottle. “I got fired because of him.”

  “Oh no. We’ve already been there.” LaTanya shook her head, beaded braids jangling. “You decided he was worth it on your own. Take ownership of that. He’s a good guy, woman, and like I said, there aren’t many of those left. I’m sitting here as living proof.”

  Harper felt sorry for her friend. If there ever was an asshole magnet, it was LaTanya Jackson. She gave them everything, and they, without fail, disappointed her in the end. Lawrence had evidently fooled both of them.

  “You’ll find the right one,” she said, patting her friend on the leg. “He just hasn’t made it to you yet.”

  “He better come soon.” LT shook her head. “I’ve kissed all the frogs I have the energy for.”

  LaTanya frowned and narrowed her eyes, then burst into laughter. Before she knew what was happening, they’d emptied both bottles of wine, eaten half a bag of chocolates, and LaTanya was going for the Cuervo.

  “Oh my God, no. If we do shots, I’m going to be sick.” Harper put her hand over her mouth. She would not throw up.

  There was a knock, and then the doorbell. “Whooss ’at,” LaTanya slurred.

  Harper stood, bracing herself with the chair arm when her head started to swim. She was past buzzed, heading toward full-on sloshed. Stumbling toward the door, she missed the dead bolt latch—why were there three of them?—before finally locating the right one, twisting it, and opening the door. Ty stood across the threshold, concern written on his face. Or maybe that was a grin. She wasn’t really sure.

  “Whoa, there. Let’s sit down before you fall down.”

  Ty eased her down into the oversized reading chair. Harper hazarded a look at LaTonya and found her slumped to the side on the sofa, snoring softly. Luckily, the shot glass she still had clutched in her hand was empty, the lime slice lying on the rug.

  “I think she ha’ too mush to drink,” she mumbled.

  “Uh, yeah.” Ty laughed softly, then picked Harper up and headed down the hallway toward her room.

  “Hey, I’m shtill mad a’ you.” She reached one arm around his neck and pulled herself up as he found her bedroom door. “You don’t get to get in my pansh.”

  He turned his face away. “Don’t worry, I don’t think either one of us wants that right now.”

  “Good. Jush to be clear.”

  “Gotcha.”

  He laid her across the bed and pulled off her shoes. Harper tried to tell him again he wasn’t getting any tonight, but he didn’t try anything as he unzipped her pants and pulled them down her legs and off. She thought she saw him fold them and place them on her dresser, but she wasn’t really sure, and everything after that was pretty much a blur of nothing before it all went black.

  Tyler looked down at a sleeping Harper. He rolled her onto her side in case she got sick in the night, so she wouldn’t die. At least that was what he’d heard could happen. A little drool ran down one side of her face. She lifted a hand and tucked the palm under her cheek. He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear before kissing her temple. She didn’t even stir. Once her breathing evened, he returned to the living room to take care of her friend.

  The woman had woken and sat upright, squinting as the light from the ceiling fixture hit her pupils. Pushing her riotous braids back from her face, she looked up at him. “What happened?”

  “I think a little too much Jose.” He looked around at the rest of the place. “And a couple bottles of wine too?”
>
  “Oh yeah,” she muttered. “That. I have to get going. Are you Ty?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “I’m LaTanya Jackson. Pleased to meet you.” She reached up a hand to clasp his, but before they made contact, she reached for her head and groaned. “Oh. My. God. I’ve never done this before. Is it supposed to make you feel this bad?”

  “Yeah, that’s kinda the result of going on a bender.”

  “Fuck benders.” LaTanya stood, squeezed her head between her hands, and closed her eyes. When she started to sway, Ty helped her sit back on the sofa.

  “Why don’t you spend the night? I can check and see if Harper has a guest bedroom.”

  “Oh no. Is it that late? I have a class to teach at eight p.m.”

  “Not tonight you don’t.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Four in the afternoon.”

  “Oh, I’ll be there.” She stood again, reached out, and gripped his shoulder tightly as she righted herself. “If you wouldn’t mind calling me an Uber.”

  “Of course.” Ty pulled his phone from his pocket, brought up the app, and typed in Harper’s address. “Are you really sure you want to do this? Can’t you call someone to cover your class? Just cancel it for tonight?”

  “I don’t trust anyone else to do it right. Canceling is not an option.” She picked up her purse, then pulled large, black-framed sunglasses from a case inside. “You’ll take care of her, won’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Of course you will.” She slid the sunglasses over her eyes, sighing as if the shades did wonders for her hangover. “You’re a good guy. I can tell. I’ve seen enough bad ones to know. Be good to her, and understand she’s crushed right now and might bite the hand that comforts her.”

  “I know.” LaTanya was probably right, and Ty couldn’t blame Harper for being pissed after what’d happened. “I’d deserve it too.”

  LaTanya shook her head then winced. “No, you’re wrong. Nothing was your fault. And she needs to apologize to you for saying that. When she wakes up, you tell her I said so.”