Filled Potential

by Lainey Davis

  "He's leaping over laurel," I tell her. "That was my mom's name. Laurel." I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her fingers. She strokes my cheek with her other hand, and instead of recoiling from this intimacy, I want to soak it in. With her.

  I reach over her again and turn off the light so we’re immersed in darkness. I pull her close against me and adjust the blankets to fight off the chill from the hotel air conditioning. “We still have one more condom to use later,” I whisper into her ear. “Now get some rest.”

  I feel her smile even though I can’t see her face, and as we are drifting off it occurs to me that Juniper doesn’t have to be up early tomorrow...because she’s here for my athletic event and missing hers as a consequence. “Hey,” I ask her. “What’s up with your crew team? Don’t you have a big regatta this week?”

  I feel her stiffen. “Well, I’ve had to miss a lot of practice,” she says. “I ceded my seat to Jamie after Tim told me about the Murdo situation. I’ve been rowing alone to stay in shape but I'm not going to be able to compete tomorrow.”

  “Aw Juniper, you can’t miss your race for me.”

  She scoffs. “I’m not. I’m missing my race for my boss." In a rush, the reality of us comes crashing down on me. She can get fired for being here with me. What was the phrase she used? Ethics violation? Juniper can get disbarred, I guess, which means she can't be a lawyer anymore. Hell, more than missing a race for me, she could lose her entire career for taking a risk with me tonight.

  "There has to be a way," I say. "Let me talk to my brother."

  "Ty, you must not, under any circumstances, tell your brother that we slept together. Do I make myself clear?"

  I nod, seeing the glint in her eyes even in the sliver of light that creeps into her hotel room from under the door. She's my secret then, I guess. She feels like one worth keeping.

  She rolls over, putting a little distance between us in the bed, but she doesn’t kick me out of her room. I think about how much her career means to her, how she doesn’t have any family left and really, all she cares about is her job and her rowing. Now both of those things are at risk because of me. I want to do something nice for her, to let her know she can count on me. Not just for sex. I let my fingers trace lines down her spine, feeling the strong muscles of her back, and I get an idea.

  Twenty

  TY

  As soon as the light of dawn slips through the crack in Juniper’s curtains, I start waking her up the best way I know how: morning sex. God, I love how tall she is. She fits right up against me, so solid. I slide into her from behind, lying on our sides, where I can kiss her neck and suck on her ear lobe until she practically purrs. Once we’ve used the last of the condoms, I tell her to get cleaned up and put on her workout clothes.

  “I don’t really feel like going to the gym right now, Ty,” she says, but I roll her out of bed. I need to make a call, and I need her out of the room if I’m going to surprise her.

  While Juniper gets herself ready in the bathroom, I call up the number listed on the website for the St. Louis rowing club. I swing my celebrity status around again and offer them a very generous donation if they can find a single boat for Juniper to borrow for an hour this morning to get in her workout.

  Once she’s ready to go, I tell her to go ahead and check out and meet me back at my room. “You can stash your stuff there until your flight,” I tell her, and when she looks concerned, I’ve got that figured out, too. “I’ve got to meet a sponsor for lunch, and I’d really like my attorney to accompany me and make sure they’re not trying to fuck me. Contractually.”

  She laughs, but I can tell she’s still nervous about getting caught with me. “Just give me your bag, go check out, and I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes,” I say, and this seems to sit better with her.

  I put on my suit pants and undershirt, not caring a bit that anyone who sees me in the hall knows exactly how I spent my night. Most of the hotel guests are with the Fury anyway. Up in my room, I brush my teeth and change, tossing J's bag in the corner, and grabbing my wallet.

  I pull on some dark shades and a ball cap, hoping to be at least a little incognito while the lobby is still buzzing after last night’s game. Word seems to have leaked out that the Fury are staying here, and the place is crawling with photographers--both professional and iPhone paparazzi. I see Juniper sort of hiding behind a plant and I sidle up behind her, whispering “you should pick a taller fern if you’re looking for camouflage.”

  She shakes out of my grip, looking angry or terrified or both. “Come on,” I tell her. I move to take her hand but she looks like she’s going to hit me again. I throw my hands up, “woah, babe. I called a car service. We can go out the back door, ok?”

  She doesn’t ease up until we’re in the back seat of the car. I had given the guy the address over the phone, and I take quite a bit of pleasure in watching Juniper try to figure out where we’re headed. As we pull up to the boathouse along the lake, her eyes go huge. “Ty,” she says, “What are we doing here?”

  I hop out of the car and hold the door open for her. She lets me pull her hand as we walk to the door, where my man is waiting. I clap him on the back and slap some bills into his shirt pocket, saying, “Dude, thanks for setting this up for us. This is Juniper Jones, and she’d like to borrow a scull.”

  Juniper looks back and forth between us like she doesn’t know what to say, which is likely a first for her. I give her a million-dollar grin, and tell Rick the boat guy, “Juniper had to miss training because she was out here for work. I’d really like it if she could stick with her workout before New Haven.”

  Rick looks skeptical as he pulls open the garage door. “You her coach?”

  “Nah. Just a devoted fan, you might say.” I pat his chest pocket again and say, “I’m a great supporter of the rowing community.”

  He blows air out of his cheeks and looks around, like he’s not sure what to make of all this, but he walks Juniper over to a rack of boats and they pick one out that she likes. Rick walks with her to the dock, talking about her route and what she wants to do. He finally seems satisfied that she knows what she’s talking about, and he comes to sit beside me as Juniper shoves off.

  I settle in to watching her, mesmerized as always by her power and grace. Once she picks up speed, I remember that Rick is sitting next to me because I hear him whistle through his teeth. “Shit, dude. She’s good.” I nod, but it’s nice to keep hearing in-the-know confirmation of what I can plainly see. “She’s, like, really good,” he tells me, and he pulls out his phone, opening up a timer app.

  Rick tells me she’s on par to place at nationals.

  “Really? When’s that race?”

  He shakes his head. “Dude, it’s like right now. Today. She’ll have to wait for next year to compete there.”

  I exhale through my nose and watch as Juniper turns the boat and heads back toward us. I vow right there to make sure I’m watching her compete for the big cup next year instead of the other way around.

  Twenty-One

  JUNIPER

  This is the nicest thing someone has done for me since my dad adopted me, and I don’t know what to say to him as we drive back to the hotel. It's too much. Sex is one thing, but this? Finding what makes me happiest and making it happen? First the filming and now this effort to make up for me missing my race. He knows me, and I realize how good it feels to be seen like this. And that makes it sting worse, because I can't be with him, and I hate that. He drapes an arm over my shoulders and plays with my hair, tucking and untucking it from behind my ear. I’m unsettled by how comfortable this feels, and know that I can’t let anyone see. I whisper to him, “What if the driver puts something on social media?”

  Ty drops a kiss on my cheek and pulls out his wallet. “I’ve got his business card, and I tipped him well not to. No worries, babe. I’ve been indiscreet with women before, you know.”

  I nod. “Yes, Tyrion, I do know. That’s how you wound up with such a specific
contract.”

  He laughs, but doesn’t move away and eventually I let myself sink into his body like a warm blanket.

  “I thought today was just a regular race you were missing, JJ. And that was bad enough. Why didn’t you tell me you were missing nationals,” he asks after a long silence. The truth is that I don’t know. I never considered competing at nationals solo...and Derrick knew that I couldn’t travel with the team, even as an alternate, because I had to be here with the Fury. I’ve been very disappointed that Murdo’s recklessness cost me something I care about so deeply. I think about how I’ll be flying back to a lonely apartment while the team will be out celebrating together, regardless of today’s race outcome.

  “I haven’t finished deciding how I feel about it,” I tell him by way of response. When he kisses me, turning my cheek up toward his mouth with his big hand, it’s passionate and soft, pleading and apologetic all at once.

  “Juniper,” he whispers against my face. As the car pulls into the hotel drive, I stiffen. There are people everywhere, most with cameras. I leap from the car before it has a chance to come to a complete stop, willing Ty not to shout after me from the open window.

  I manage to rush to his room and grab my bag. I can't do this. I can't risk being seen. I've been foolish. I scrawl I'm sorry on the hotel notepad on the desk in Ty's room and scurry out the front door without passing him in the hall. I grab a taxi straight for the airport, texting Matty that I won't be at the meeting and to send me any documents electronically. Matty can handle it, whatever it is. I spend the entire flight home trying to figure out how I’ll deal with all the feelings I shouldn’t have about Tyrion Stag, and then I push all that down inside and pull up other client contracts until I'm bleary-eyed from work.

  Monday, Tim calls me into his office. He’s worked out a deal for the baseball pitcher and can jump back in as point person with the NHL contracts. “Well that’s shitty timing,” I tell him, not bothering to hide the frustration in my voice.

  “Juniper, I know this has been a lot to dump on you, especially when you are so new. That’s partly why I wanted to talk with you today.” He slides a folder across the desk, and I open it, raising an eyebrow at him in confusion. “I have a meeting with the Cavs,” he says, grinning.

  “The Cavs? Like in Cleveland?” He nods. “Tim, that’s two hours away from here. How are we going to service those clients?”

  He seems to brush aside my remarks, telling me what an opportunity this is for the firm and what an honor it should be to get considered for such an important contract. "We're going to have to really stretch ourselves to land this fish, Juniper." He asks me to help him prepare for a meeting with their executives next week.

  I can't believe he's missing the point like this. Talk about no work-life balance. This is a nightmare. “I will help you prepare for the meeting, but I need you to know that I can’t be involved in case work that takes me to Cleveland. As I said before, I value my free time more than a higher salary--”

  “Juniper.” Tim’s voice is sharp. “This is the direction the company is heading. We are expanding. Rapidly. In no small part because of your work here this month! Now get the hell out of here and help me prepare the brief.”

  I raise both brows at him and stand. I move to walk out and he spins around in his desk chair. “One other thing.”

  Fuck. Does he know? He would have led with it if he knew I was sleeping with his brother…right? I decide to stick with my irritated demeanor. “What now? Wooing a team in Tennessee perhaps?”

  “Don’t be a smart-ass, Juniper. That’s not your style. No. The Fury's post-season gala is this Friday. Would you like to go as our representative? You did the bulk of the work, after all.”

  I consider this for a moment. A fancy party does sound nice, especially after the stress I’ve been under, but how can I go to a gala and simultaneously prepare for a meeting with a client I don't want our firm to take on? I open my mouth to decline, but Tim starts talking first.

  “I’ll have Donna send you the details. It’s black tie. Bring a date.” Tim walks me out of his office and closes the door. I hear him yell through the closed wood, “I want an update on the Cavs strategy tomorrow morning!”

  A black tie formal and a major client pitch all in one week. Good thing I don't have a life outside of work. I pull my phone from my pocket and see a series of missed calls from Ty and two texts.

  I wish u would talk 2 me

  I miss u JJ

  I lean against the wall and take some deep breaths. Nothing in my life is recognizable. College and law school were so orderly, if hectic. Rowing practice, studying, chill with Zack. I always knew what to expect. Not one thing has been predictable since that morning I walked in on my live-in boyfriend cheating on me. I don't know if I'm cut out for all this.

  On my way back to my office, I pass the kitchen and see my friend Alice in there preparing lunch for the staff. She looks up and I guess she can tell my emotional state from my face, because she rushes into the hall. “Juniper, you look a mess,” she says. I don’t respond, but she tosses her chef coat onto a table. “Come on. Let’s go downstairs for a coffee.”

  I can’t tell her about the situation with Ty, but I am able to open up to Alice about my hesitation with this Cleveland deal and convince her to come shopping with me for a formal dress in one of the department stores downtown. “Alice, this isn’t how I imagined my career in law,” I tell her as we wander the aisles of gowns in the formalwear section.

  “I always thought I’d be defending the disenfranchised...not bailing out superstar athletes caught with cocaine.”

  Alice laughs. “Technically, you didn’t even do that. You’re just following around hockey players and watching them get into fights!”

  “Very funny. Do you think this one will make me look too tall?” I explained to her that I thought I’d ask Ben from work to be my date to the gala. He knows a lot of the players and NHL staff from being with the firm, and I’m pretty sure he’s a safe date in terms of not trying anything romantic with me. His sister would have told me if he was into me that way. Ben is about the same height as me, though, so I’ll have to wear flats or risk looking ridiculous at his side.

  Alice urges me into a fitting room, and coos when I emerge in a champagne-colored, halter-top dress with a plunging v neckline. “Oh, Juniper! That looks amazing with your hair and your skin tone. That’s the one!” The dress is sateen and shimmers when I move.

  “You don’t think the neckline is inappropriate for a work event?” I don’t like how low it plunges. It’s not my style, but Alice clucks her tongue at my concerns. “All right, then. Let’s get out of here so I can finish that damn brief for the client I don’t want so I have time to go to the damn gala.”

  Twenty-two

  TY

  Usually I spend the off season pretty drunk, in the company of a revolving string of women whose names I forget as fast as I churn them out of my apartment. This year, none of that appeals to me. All I can think about is Juniper. I know she is feeling something for me, because she keeps running away from me when things get too intense. I know she's not used to this, but fuck. I'm not, either. I wish I could just go to the club, pick up some random woman and fuck her until I feel like myself again. But the thing is…I haven't been myself since I moved back home. I've been a different person. I actually like helping that rowing team with their publicity stuff. I like spending time with Juniper, damn it. All I've done for years is hang out with my brothers, hunt for tail, and play hockey. Now the hockey part is on hold for the off-season and my brothers are all busy with work.

  I still show up at the arena every morning to work out for a few hours, but then I face long stretches of free time I’d rather be spending with my girl. If she’d ever let herself be my girl.

  Juniper stopped responding to my flirty texts and doesn't pick up when I call. Something's up with her and I need to get her to tell me about it. Trying to distract myself, I’ve tightened every scre
w in my grandma’s house, mowed every blade of her grass to perfection. Hell, I even hung out with my brother Thatcher at his damn glass studio in the heat of June, watching him make giant flower vases and shit. And all the while, I think of how I want to be taking Juniper to dinner, asking her about her training, watching her row. And then I remember I can't do any of those things because she’s off limits.

  The rowing teams are on hiatus after their big regatta, so I haven’t even been hanging around the boat house. I had a few phone calls with Derrick about a television spot, but that's not even happening until fall. I think we've done just about all we're going to do with them in terms of my image strategy or whatever the hell Matty is calling it. The press loves me. Coach is in a good mood now that we've won the Cup. I'm supposed to be living it up, but I just feel like I'm drifting.

  After about a week of me sulking around, my grandma whacks me in the head with a newspaper while we’re eating lunch.

  “What the hell, Gram?”

  “You’re a mope, Tyrion Stag. What are you doing with yourself?”

  “Jesus, that hurt. I’m trying to relax a bit is all.” I try to go back to eating my sandwich, but Gram is relentless.

  “Get out of here and go do something. Go to the library. Visit kids at a hospital. I don’t want to see your mopey face back here today.”

  I decide to go for a long run and take Gram up on the idea to visit kids at the children’s hospital. I spend hours there, giving each kid a photo op and signing everything they hand me. Their moms swoon and all the dads pat me on the back and ask when it’s my turn for a day with the Cup. I feel good, but it doesn’t last. After all that, I’m alone with my thoughts again. Only one thing feels right to me, and I decide I'm just going to go for it.

  Before I can reconsider, I’m knocking on the door of Juniper’s townhouse.

  She answers and I watch her face drop in fear. “What are you doing here?” she hisses, pulling me inside and slamming the door. “Someone is going to recognize you, Ty. People use the bike path all the time.”