Yep. Zia needed sleep. She needed it so badly she decided not to text Brett back that night. She knew if she did, she would end up either texting him for hours or calling him and talking for hours or asking him to come over…for hours. None of those things were conducive to rest—especially the last one.
She could text him in the morning when she was fresher. Perfect plan.
With that in mind, she hugged Monica, thanked her profusely for the opportunity, and promised to stay in touch.
Twenty minutes later, Zia dropped her bag inside her front door, kicked off her shoes, and aimed for the shower.
Thirty minutes after that, she was clean, fed, and dropping into bed. It was not even eight o’clock. That’s how tired she was.
Chapter Nine
“Zia,” Haley screamed as Zia let herself in the back door that led directly into the kitchen.
She was early. But rested. After ten hours, she felt like she might actually be alive today instead of a zombie. She smiled at the excited teenager, wondering what today’s saga would bring. Haley nearly bounced on her feet as she leaned over the side of the center island.
Then she giggled as Tasha flew into the room with her mother right behind her. “Did you show her? What did she say?” Tasha yelled.
“Not yet.” Haley turned back to face Zia. Her eyes were wide, and she leaned closer. “You’re dating Brett Michelson?”
Zia jerked back, furrowing her brow. What the hell? How did the Wilkensons know about Brett? And why? She didn’t have a chance to ask before Tasha grabbed a folded newspaper tabloid off the counter and held it in front of Zia, jumping up and down.
She pointed at the picture in the lower right corner. “See. That’s you, isn’t it? I know it is.”
Zia took the paper from Tasha’s hand and brought it closer to her face. It was her, all right. Holy shit. Under the picture, clearly taken at the entrance to the restaurant Saturday night, were two other shots—one of Brett holding her hand to help her out of his car and one of Brett leaning over the back of her park bench from the day she first met him.
What the hell?
She read the caption. “Local star, Brett Michelson, with new flame. Fans want to know who she is and if there are wedding bells in the future.”
“That’s so exciting,” Haley exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Girls.” The sharp word echoed through the room as their mother, Caroline, clapped her hands together. “Go get ready for school.”
They both groaned.
“Now,” she added.
Shoulders falling, they both dragged themselves from the kitchen, grumbling about grownups and missing everything good.
Caroline rounded the island and calmly took the tabloid from Zia’s hand. She set it on the counter facedown. “You didn’t know about this yet, did you?”
“No.” Zia’s head was spinning. She lifted her hands to rub her temples. Who the hell was Brett Michelson that anyone would be interested in taking his picture with Zia?
Caroline set a hand on Zia’s shoulder and turned her gently until they were facing. “Are you okay? You realize no one cares about this shit, right?” She muttered the swear word under her breath. The woman rarely cussed and never in front of the kids.
Zia swallowed back the lump in her throat. “Who is Brett Michelson?”
Caroline jerked her face back. “That’s not you in the picture?”
“Oh, it’s me. I did go out with Brett Saturday night. It was our first date. But who is he that anyone cares? He told me he was an accountant.”
Caroline moaned. “Oh, honey… Oh my God. You don’t know who he is?”
Zia shook her head.
“Second baseman for Miami.”
“What?” Zia shouted.
Caroline’s face switched from serious to jovial. She pursed her lips before speaking again. “I guess you don’t follow baseball. How did you meet him?”
“No. I don’t follow baseball.” Zia grabbed the tabloid off the counter and righted it so she could read the article. She pointed at the smaller photo from the park. “I met him right there in Greynolds Park.” She shivered. “Does this mean people have been following us…me…since that day?”
“Maybe. Or maybe they got lucky both times. I’m sure a whole slew of reporters follow Brett everywhere he goes. You just happened to be with him.”
It was Zia’s turn to groan. Her head started to hurt. “I can’t believe it.” With shaky fingers, she lifted the tabloid, flipped to the page number indicated, and read the article. It was short. Speculative. She wanted to snort at the idea of them getting married. Why did people want to read this shit?
“Guess you aren’t planning to elope this weekend, then.” Caroline smiled.
“I’m not even planning to see him again. Ever. So, it would be tough to marry him.” Her knees were so weak she thought she might have to slide to the floor and land on her butt.
“The date was that bad?” Caroline turned back to the front page and brought the small picture closer to her face. “You look happy.”
“The date was the best ever. I’ve never had more fun in my life.” Zia lifted her gaze as a tear escaped her eye to run down her face. She swiped it away, glancing past Caroline to make sure the girls weren’t eavesdropping. She didn’t want them to see her vulnerability.
Caroline nodded. “I guess he must have omitted a few details before he took you out.”
“I guess so.”
“Maybe he wanted to go on a normal date with a normal person?”
“Maybe, but that’s not fair to me. Especially since he knew someone could be following us.”
“You’re right. I’m just trying to see things through his eyes.”
“His eyes are a lovely shade of blue I do not want to see again.” There was no doubt of that. Zia was livid. How dare he? What was he thinking?
He was probably off in his mansion somewhere getting a good laugh at her expense. Poor, poor Zia Sharpley. Ordinary girl from a broken home. What a sob story.
And I slept with him…
She was going to faint.
Caroline took her arm and led her from the room. She nearly dragged her down the hall to the guest room that had once been Zia’s when the girls were smaller and she lived with them. “Lie down for a bit. I’m going to run the girls to school. I’ll be right back.”
Zia flinched and reached with both hands to wipe her eyes and rub her face. “That’s my job. It’s what you pay me for. I’ll be fine. Let me just splash some water on my face, and—”
“Zia. Lie down. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll get rid of David and the girls and come back. Please. You’re like a daughter to me. You’ve been my right arm for ten years. Let me help you for once.”
Zia nodded, suddenly feeling heavier than she’d ever felt. And so drained. She lowered herself to the side of the guest bed, unsure what to do or feel.
Caroline slipped from the room, shutting the door.
Zia curled onto her side, hugged the pillow to her face, and took deep breaths. What a nightmare. How had this happened? It was so unfair. Hadn’t Zia been through enough? Was Fate laughing at her too?
She wanted to scream for having slept with him. How stupid could she be? Alarm bells should have sounded. She never had sex with a man after one date. It was so out of character for her.
That was the part that hurt the worst.
Lying asshole.
Tears fell freely now.
She grabbed a tissue from the bedside table, dabbed at her eyes, and then balled up in a tighter fetal position, willing herself to relax. But her mind raced with what-ifs and how-stupid-can-I-be’s.
What about Monica? Had his sister known Zia was in the dark all this time? Was she even his sister? Zia punched the mattress next to her face and balled her fist again. Silent tears fell for so long she was exhausted.
By the time Caroline eased back into the room almost silently, Zia was worn out.
Caroline sat o
n the edge of the bed and set her hand on Zia’s shoulder. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. You’re hurting. He must have been someone really special.”
“I thought so,” she croaked. Where did more tears come from?
“I’m going to make us some tea, and then you can tell me about him.”
Zia shook her head. “You need to get to work. I promise I’ll get my act together before the girls get out of school. I don’t know why I’m being so silly. He’s just a guy I went on one date with. No biggie. So what if he omitted a few details?”
“Obviously he meant more than that to you. You must have spoken to him a few times in between the park bench meeting and the Italian restaurant.”
“Yeah. But not many. I did a mural for his sister.”
“Painted one? That’s awesome. Did you take pictures?”
“Yeah… But, now I don’t even know if that woman was his sister.” Surely she was. They were so close.
“Easy one to answer. Let’s google him.” Caroline pulled out her phone and tapped the screen rapidly.
Zia squeezed her eyes shut and pursed her lips while she waited.
“Monica Michelson. Thirty-three. Older sister. Lives here in Miami.” She held out the device so Zia could see her picture.
“That’s her.” For some reason, Zia was relieved to know at least one detail was real. Why did Monica keep this ruse going for her brother?
Zia went through the details of every conversation she’d had with Monica in her head. The subject had never come up. Had Monica agreed to keep her mouth shut? Or had she simply assumed Zia knew?
Zia would never find out. This was one pile of shit she didn’t intend to step into. For eighteen years, she’d lived with one of the most compulsive liars alive. It took the next ten to undo the damage and hold her chin high. She would not be made a fool.
Brett Michelson could go to hell.
Caroline sighed. “I get it. After the childhood you endured, I can see why this would be a low blow.”
Zia nodded and rolled onto her back, stretching out her stiff muscles. Caroline knew more about Zia’s childhood than nearly anyone alive. Even Lily. After all, Zia had babysat for the family for a few years before she turned eighteen and moved out of her mother’s house.
“It feels like he lied to you.”
“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “Do you know how many times my mother lied to me growing up?” She didn’t wait for an answer. It wasn’t needed. “If I had a dollar for every time she threatened to leave me at an orphanage or turn me over to foster care.” She threw her forearm over her face. “She told me so many lies about my father it took me several years to realize she didn’t even know who he was.”
“I know, sweetie.” Caroline patted her leg.
“I can’t do it. I can’t be lied to. It’s a deal breaker for me.”
Chapter Ten
The decision to spend a few nights sleeping at the Wilkensons’ was an easy one.
Zia didn’t answer her phone for Brett, Monica, or any unknown number. He could stand at her apartment and bang on the door. Or wait out front. But she wasn’t there, and he had no idea where she worked.
What surprised her was how many times he called and how many texts he sent. She never opened his texts, but she could see there were twenty-seven. And she didn’t even count the phone messages.
Caroline was a lifesaver, and she must have instructed the girls not to mention Brett because they never said a word, and they were unusually cheerful around her.
By Thursday, the texts stopped, and curiously enough, phone messages started coming in from another number.
Zia never checked them.
At some point, she needed to go back to her apartment. She couldn’t hide forever. But at least for a while. And she knew the Wilkensons didn’t mind at all. They were glad to have her. In return, Zia spent more time with the girls than she had in years.
It was bittersweet since she needed to move on.
She started reading the want ads on Friday. Deep breaths. She needed a new job, preferably with another family. Any hope of making a career switch to art dwindled when she cut out the opportunities Monica’s contacts would have afforded her.
She didn’t have the heart to paint at the moment, either. Her hands weren’t steady enough. And her mind wouldn’t stay on task. No way could she have a show in the near future if her creativity was hampered.
Friday night, she finally gathered the strength to return to her apartment. She had a plan. It involved circling the place several times to make sure no one was waiting for her and then parking a distance away so her car wouldn’t be out front.
But the most ridiculous part? As soon as she got inside, she left the lights off. Childish? Perhaps. Self-preserving? Definitely.
She lit one candle in the bathroom, took a long hot bath, and then climbed into bed with her ebook reader.
* * *
Brett paced his sister’s living room, running his hands through his hair. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Indeed.” She sat on the corner of her couch, her legs curled under her.
“You don’t have to agree.”
“If the shoe fits. Why the hell didn’t you tell her what you did for a living? I mean, I assumed you would eventually tell her.”
“I don’t know. It was stupid. I wanted something normal. I wanted peace. One night of peace.”
“Brett, did you sleep with her?”
He hung his head.
“Oh. My. God. You took that sweet woman out and then slept with her without telling her who you were? That’s past stupid. No wonder she won’t take your calls. Can’t blame her for not taking mine, either.”
“You’re not being very supportive,” he muttered.
“Dude, you fucked up. This is on you. If I were in her shoes, I would egg your house. Lucky for you, she’s way too nice to retaliate. But you’re going to have to let her go.”
“Like you’ve never fucked up a relationship,” he shot back.
She flinched. “Don’t go there, Brett. It’s too soon and too raw. I still think about her every day. I’m super clear I’ve made mistakes.”
Brett groaned. “You’re right. I didn’t mean anything by that.”
Monica shook her head. “I’m just sorry I can’t hook Zia up with my coworkers now. She loved painting that mural. It’s her passion.”
“So not only do I not get an opportunity to explain my actions or apologize, but I also fucked with her career.”
“Yep.”
“Can’t let her go. She’s under my skin. I think she’s the one.”
Monica groaned. “Brett, you hardly know her. It was a few brief encounters and one date. I think you’re romanticizing this.”
He dropped onto an armchair and set his head in his hands. “If she would just take my calls. I don’t think she ever went home this week. How the hell did she even see that fucking tabloid so fast?”
“No idea. But she did. Obviously. It happens. Maybe she didn’t see it at all, and someone else saw it and told her.”
“Yeah, that’s probably right.” He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, seeing nothing. “I have to leave for spring training in two weeks.”
“Yep.”
“Dammit.”
“Has it occurred to you that her silence could be more than just you lying? Maybe she isn’t interested in dating a celebrity. Not everyone thinks hot, rich, professional ball players hang the moon. She might be a regular woman who doesn’t care for the fanfare and the notoriety.”
“She is. That’s why I like her. And that’s why I didn’t tell her.”
“Let her go, Brett. It’s over.”
* * *
Zia answered her cell phone with a smile when she saw that Lily was calling. She hadn’t spoken to her friend since the day before hooking up with Brett. It was time to pull up her big-girl panties and reenter functioning society.
“Hey, Lily.” Zia knew her voice was low. She chewed her li
p too. Lily was the sort of friend who would pull out every possible bit of information she could. She set her sketch pad aside to focus on her friend. In the last few days she found that sketching kept her mind occupied. Her pictures were a bit dark, but at least she was keeping up her skills.
“Hey, yourself. You haven’t come by or called all week. I was starting to worry about you. I figured you either fell in love and eloped, or you got so many jobs painting murals off that first one that you were too busy to stop by.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry. I totally forgot I was supposed to bring you some paintings. I’ll do that soon.”
“You forgot me?” Lily gasped in mock exaggeration. “He must be some guy.”
“Oh, he was some guy all right. He lied to me. And I stopped taking his calls.” Zia cringed. Lily’s boyfriend lied to her all the time. She was a glutton for punishment apparently because she continued to take his calls.
Lily didn’t point that out, however. “Ouch. Oh, God. I’m sorry. Did you paint his sister’s mural?”
“I did. And it was fabulous. I have pictures. Unfortunately, I also cut off communication with her after her brother pissed me off, so that leaves me without a reference to do another mural. The shame of it is, I think she genuinely loved my work. Too bad her brother was a shit.”
“What did he do? I’ve never heard you so worked up over a guy. You must have really liked him.”
“Liked him? That’s an understatement. I’m so damn stupid that I slept with him.”
“What?” Lily nearly shouted. “My Zia? Now I know you’re possessed by aliens. When was the last time you slept with a guy so soon in a relationship?”
“The better question would be, when was the last time I slept with a guy at all?” Zia sighed. She was finally able to at least articulate her feelings. If Lily had called a few days ago, there was a good chance Zia would have let the call go to voicemail rather than face her stupidity.
Lily laughed. “Well, I didn’t want to sound insulting. But tell me, what happened?”
Catching Zia (Spring Training Book 1) Page 7