The Story of Us

by Tara Sivec

  “You need your space. Especially with all this shit going on. You can’t think clearly living under the same roof as Lucifer and I’m not going to stand here and watch you take her crap day after day. Even if you move back after I’m gone, at least we can have some privacy out there and I can knock some sense into you without her walking in on us, demanding something from you every five minutes.”

  To say my mother was flustered when she came home from a few meetings this afternoon and found out from one of the household staff that I’d moved out was the understatement of the year. Luckily, I was in the shower at the guest house when she stormed over and Meredith handled that confrontation. All she had to do was mention her father, and my mother shut her mouth, turned, and walked back to the main house.

  “Of course she’s pissed, but she’ll keep her mouth shut and continue glaring at us throughout your entire stay just in case you might have the urge to tell your father she’s being difficult,” I tell her softly, grabbing my own glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

  “Lucky for her, I try to avoid speaking to my father as much as possible, but she doesn’t need to know that.”

  Meredith and her father have always had a rocky relationship. Even though he lets her make her own choices in life, he’s never quiet about his disappointment in those choices. He doesn’t understand Meredith’s free spirit and artistic nature. While I’ve been stuck here in Charleston, Meredith has been flourishing as a romance author in New York. The first book she published after we graduated from college soared to the top of the bestseller lists, and every book she’s penned since then has been no different. Her nonstop upward movement since that first book is probably the only reason her father has stopped trying to pressure her into moving to D.C. to work for him as the head of Homeland Security. That, and the fact that she writes under a pen name, never makes public appearances even though two of her books have been made into popular movies, and the whispers and rumors about who she really is continue to increase her fame each time she puts out another book. As long as she continues showing up to his social functions to fake her support for him, her father is perfectly fine to let her be. It’s no wonder he and my mother get along so well.

  “Shelby, there are a few people I’d like you to meet.”

  Meredith and I both turn to look at Landry as he walks up to us and kisses me on the cheek, before giving a curt nod in Meredith’s direction. Landry, being of mostly the same mind as my mother, isn’t Meredith’s biggest fan either and has made his complaints loud and clear about my moving out into the guest house because of her influence. One would think he’d be happy that I had my own place, so to speak, so the two of us could have some privacy, but one would be wrong. If something upsets my mother, it gets back to him and he has to deal with the backlash. My mother spent the entire evening chewing his ear off about letting me make such a stupid decision.

  I should be offended neither of these people seem to think I can make my own decisions, but what would be the point? I can’t and I don’t. I do what I’m told, like a good, obedient daughter. I used to be headstrong and confident, ready and willing to take on the world, and it makes me sick to my stomach that I’ve let that part of me slip away.

  “We’re a little busy here, Lando, how about you come back in a few minutes?” Meredith informs him with a cheeky smile, tossing back the rest of her champagne.

  Obviously there is no love lost between these two, indicated by Landry’s annoyed sigh when she uses the nickname she gave him years ago that he absolutely hates.

  While the two of them quietly bicker back and forth, I take a minute to look at Landry. He looks handsome in his black tuxedo, just like he always does. Hair perfectly styled at the salon in town, nails manicured, clean-shaven, and smelling of expensive cologne. With my four-inch gold heels, we’re exactly the same height. I’ve never had to crane my neck or stand on my toes to kiss him. We’re perfectly matched in every way.

  Every way but the one that counts. I’ll never love him. I’ll never be able to give him what he wants. I stand here looking at him, so handsome and well dressed and full of so much love for me, and all I can think about is a man who towers over me, looks just as amazing in jeans and a T-shirt as he does in a uniform and who doesn’t need to bother with fancy cologne because the smell of his body mixed with his soap is the most intoxicating scent I’ve ever experienced. If I had a fully functioning heart, it would be breaking for Landry with the way I’m betraying him with these thoughts of another man. As it is, my stomach is tied in knots every time I look at him and my head is full of regret every time he smiles at me because I can’t give him more. I can’t give him all of me, because the man that has always filled my thoughts, a man I never thought I’d see again, is now alive.

  I hear Meredith softly curse beside me and I look over to see her eyes trained on the wide open front door. When my gaze moves in that direction, the gaslight lanterns hanging outside on either side of the door flicker and cast a warm golden glow of light in the doorway and my champagne glass slips right out of my hand.

  The feel of liquid splashing against my arm and Meredith fumbling and bumping into me makes me realize her quick reflexes must have caught the glass before it shattered to the floor, but all I can see is the man standing in the open double French doors. The clear, starry night behind him makes a perfect backdrop and I hold my breath as he moves around a few people milling about. His eyes meet mine from a few feet away, and I press my hand to my stomach to quell the butterflies flapping around as I watch his eyes move over every inch of me, from head to toe, as he continues walking in our direction.

  “Isn’t that the Eli James fellow from the news?” Landry asks. “I don’t remember him being on the guest list.”

  He definitely wasn’t on the guest list. My mother would rather set her hair on fire in front of all these people than invite him to our home. Him being here can only mean one thing and that one thing does not make the nerves taking over my stomach calm down. Eli was never a fan of my mother, even before we started seeing each other. As our relationship advanced and I started trusting him enough to open up about my life, his dislike for her grew tenfold. There’s no way him showing up here tonight is for any other reason than to make her nervous and put her on edge and I know it will not end well. He has no idea that just by being here, my mother could assume I had something to do with it and go back on every promise she made me and ruin everything for him.

  What the hell is he thinking?

  By the time he gets to the table right next to my mother where people can pay for their tickets for dinner if they haven’t already done so, a small commotion has begun in the entryway. Everyone knows who Eli James is, thanks to the news blasted across every television station the last few months. Not only is he a hometown hero, he’s a national hero, and his presence here is not going unnoticed. People whisper and point in his direction, a few walk up to him and pat him on the back, welcoming him home and thanking him for his service. I watch in awe as he casually shakes the hands of strangers, his eyes always coming back to mine, until my mother finally notices what is happening right in front of her.

  I take back everything about how I thought Eli looked better in jeans and a T-shirt. I’ve never seen him in a tuxedo, and especially not one that looks like it was made especially for him. Unlike most of the men in the room who are wearing bow ties, Eli has paired his black suit with an emerald green necktie and coordinating pocket square sticking out of his left breast pocket. In a sick twist of fate, we look like we match. Like a couple who planned their outfits to complement each other, but I know it’s just a fluke and I won’t allow myself to wonder if he did it because his favorite color is still green. The color of my eyes.

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  “It used to be blue, but I’m more partial to green these days, because it’s the color of your eyes. A man could completely lose himself in those eyes of yours.”

  “Are you a lost man, Eli?�
�

  “Not anymore, Legs. Not anymore.”

  “Mr. James, welcome home,” my mother says, pulling me out of my thoughts when I hear the fakeness in her voice, carrying loudly over the hushed conversation so that everyone can witness what a welcoming and wonderful person she is, when I know just how much she must be seething inside at the sight of him. “I wasn’t aware you were on the guest list, but I’m sure we can make a concession.”

  I move forward to stand next to her, feeling like I want to throw my body in between the two of them to protect Eli from whatever my mother might say or do.

  “I hope you don’t mind me crashing the party,” Eli tells her, his baritone voice warming my chilled skin. “I’m sure you know this charity is very near and dear to my heart.”

  My mother nods, clasping her hands together low and in front of her body.

  “The more the merrier, but I regret to tell you the tickets are quite expensive. I’m sure you understand. It’s for charity,” she tells him with a tight smile as a few flashes from the media’s cameras go off.

  And there it is. With a polite smile and a sweet voice for everyone who stands around us listening in, my mother just put him in his place by inferring that he can’t afford to buy a ticket to an event that should benefit him. After everything he’s gone through, she has the nerve to deny him entry.

  As I try to formulate some valid excuse as to why he doesn’t need to pay for a ticket without making either one of them look foolish, Eli reaches into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a black leather wallet.

  “Sorry, I found out about this fancy function a little late, so I didn’t get the memo on the cost. How much is it again?” he asks, flipping his wallet open and waiting for her to respond.

  She laughs at him like he’s a silly little boy who just told her a precious joke, adding in a pitying shake of her head

  “It’s one thousand dollars,” she whispers dramatically, widening her eyes to emphasize the steep price.

  Eli whistles and I have to bite down on my lips to stop a hysterical giggle from escaping. “Wow, that’s pretty steep.”

  A few people standing next to him chuckle uncomfortably at his reply.

  “It was very nice of you to stop by,” my mother tells him, confident that she’s made her point, made him look like a fool, and is just waiting until he scurries back out the door with his tail between her legs.

  “Oh, I’m not leaving,” he informs her, pulling a huge wad of cash out of his wallet and tossing it on the table in front of him. “A thousand, you said? How about I give you six? A donation, of course.”

  The woman from the charity gasps loudly when she sees the money, quickly picking it up and sticking it into the lockbox next to her and ripping off six tickets to hand to Eli.

  He takes them from her hand and gives her a wink, sticking the tickets and his wallet back into the inside pocket of his coat, his eyes moving over my mother and latching on to mine. My heart stutters in my chest and I feel my palms start to sweat as he keeps his eyes locked on mine and walks past us, finally turning away as he enters the ballroom.

  Landry steps away from Meredith and me and goes to my mother’s side. I watch as the two of them share a quick, whispered conversation before my mother quickly resumes greeting people as they enter, pretending like nothing happened, but I know it won’t be that easy.

  “Jesus Christ, what the fuck just happened?” Meredith whispers in my ear.

  I can’t speak as I turn away from my mother and Landry and watch Eli disappear into a crowd of people, his eyes staying glued to mine as he goes, the fire and determination I see in them burning a hole straight through me, making goose bumps break out on my skin and butterflies swarm in my stomach. I stand rooted in place, watching him shake more hands and smile at strangers until the feel of my mother’s hand clamping down around my elbow and her nails digging into my skin pull my eyes away from him and I feel like I can finally breathe again.

  Oh, no. This won’t be easy at all. This will definitely cost me.

  Chapter 8

  Eli

  Well, that went well. Very inconspicuous,” Daniel sighs, flagging down the bartender in the corner of the giant ballroom and ordering a scotch and soda. “Tell me again why you wanted to come to this thing? And felt the need to ruffle Georgia Eubanks’s feathers five seconds after you walked through the door?”

  I feel like an asshole telling Daniel earlier that I wanted to tag along to this thing because it was time I get out of the house and start socializing, and there was no better way to do that then attending a charity function to support my brothers in arms. Daniel’s snort at my explanation proved he wasn’t buying the bullshit I tried selling, but he kept his mouth shut and let me do my thing.

  “I’d appreciate it if you tone down the stink eye you keep shooting in her direction, considering her right-hand man and our future senator, Landry McAllister, sends clients my way.”

  This news comes as a shock, but I don’t let it show as I continue to take casual sips of my bourbon on the rocks. I know Daniel represents half of the people in attendance tonight, but I had no idea the man standing possessively next to Shelby a few minutes ago helped Daniel with clients. After what Daniel’s done for my sister, taking care of her and giving her the love she so badly needed when I was gone, I feel guilty for the thoughts swirling through my brain, wondering if because of his association with Landry that he’s privy to any illegal activity Georgia has been conducting behind the scenes. There’s no way that woman had the power to send an entire unit out on deployment a year before they were due without throwing money around or having some sort of allegiance with the wrong people. I don’t want to involve my family in this mess, any more than they already are, but Daniel could be my ticket to finding out the truth.

  My thoughts are put on hold when the woman in question steps up to the mic on the portable stage in the front of the room. I throw back the rest of my bourbon in one swallow as all two hundred people in attendance listen with rapt attention, hanging on her every word as she drones on and on about how special and important our military is to this country. When she finishes, the room erupts in a chorus of clapping, whistling and cheering while she goes on to introduce the band that will be playing music until it’s time for dinner, inviting everyone to have some fun out on the dance floor.

  Setting my empty glass on the bar next to me, I see a flash of green out of the corner of my eye and my head turns to see Shelby walk gracefully into the room, shaking hands and talking to people as she moves, one of her long gorgeous legs sliding out between the material of her dress as she goes. She’s every bit the professional ass kisser, just like her mother, smiling politely and laughing at whatever bullshit these rich assholes are saying to her. Part of me wants to hate this woman I see before me, behaving nothing like the firecracker I knew six years ago. The one who refused to follow in her mother’s footsteps, the one who hated every part of this life and wanted nothing to do with it, and the one who worked her ass off night and day to get as far away from this place as possible. In the time I spent with her, I saw another side of her, one that made me regret ever thinking of her as a spoiled princess, unable to make a decision for herself to save her life. She had hopes and dreams and a fire inside her that burned brighter than anything I’d ever witnessed and it was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen.

  She quickly made me feel like an ass for what I did to her the night of her high school graduation. I’d spent the next four years while she was away at college, dreaming of that damn kiss she gave me in the stables, her small body pressed against mine, her fingers clutching the hair at the back of my head and her tongue tentatively pushing past my lips until I lost myself in her. Four years of jerking off to thoughts of that kiss and four years of remembering the hurt in her eyes when I called her a princess, pushed her away, and accused her of slumming it with the help for a cheap thrill. She came back to town a different person, a grown woman with attitude
and determination, and I’m not gonna lie, the way she tried to ignore me that first week was like waving a red flag in front of a bull.

  I wanted to know that Shelby. I wanted to find out why she kept her dancing a secret when it meant so much to her and she was so fucking amazing at it that I kept sneaking back into that damn studio day after day just to watch her.

  I’m alive and standing here right now because of that Shelby. I brought myself back from the brink of death for that Shelby. Now there’s not even a trace of her left. I know things change and I know the news of my death would have affected her and never left her untouched by sadness and pain, but why did it have to be like this? Why did she have to give up everything she’d worked so hard for and turn into her mother? It’s like she never existed even though I have six months filled with memories of us, lying naked in bed while she told me about her dreams, dancing together in her studio, doing whatever I could to make her laugh and watch her face light up, feeling her breath against my lips when I moved inside her and she gave me everything I never knew I wanted and more. Her dreams became my dreams, her hopes became my hopes, and I was determined to do whatever I could to make her happy and make all those things come true for her. I put in a transfer request for a base in New York so I could be close to her because I knew without a shadow of a doubt she’d nail that audition she spent all summer practicing for, I made plans for our future, and I did it all for her because I thought she was different.

  I know I hurt her when I left. I know I could have handled it a thousand different ways than how I did, but when someone is threatening your family and the woman you love, it’s hard to put things into perspective when you’re given less than an hour to pack your shit and get the fuck out of the country. It only took me a few weeks to get my head out of my ass and try to make things right. Every day for the next three months, I tried to make things right by her, and she never responded, but I never gave up hope. Thoughts of her following her dreams and being happy kept my heart going through every beating, every day without food and water, every month without her touch, and every year without knowing if I’d ever make it out of there alive and make it back to her to beg for her forgiveness for the way I let someone else control me.