Running Home to You (The Running Series)

by Sweeney, Suzanne

  “No, I’m okay. I just talked to Emmy. She really has a way with words, you know.”

  “You know, Jette, I haven’t seen Big Mac this happy in weeks. Or you. You guys really have a chance here to make things right. Don’t worry about the restaurant tonight. We’ve got this handled. You go handle your man.” Marcus walks away and back to his duties of overseeing the staff, leaving me to contemplate his remark – handle my man.

  And then it hits me. Evan’s been at my side all night. He’s letting me make the decisions and set the limits. I wonder ... here, tonight, could we, should we, negotiate? There are certain things I know he wants from me and certain things I want from him. Suppose there was a way we could both go home happy? Under the right conditions, and at just the proper moment, I bet I could get him to do almost anything. It’s certainly worth a try.

  I amble into the kitchen, grab four plates, and find a spot out of Natalie’s way to plate desserts for my dinner companions. I promised Joey a cheesecake, so I start there. I head to the pastry cooler and slide the cake from one of the trays. When I shut the door, I’m startled by Ryker, standing there, eying me with a judgmental expression of disappointment. “Oh, Ryker, you scared me.”

  “Sorry about that. Here, let me carry that for you.” He takes the cake from me and follows me to the food prep station. I grab a tub of cherry brandy ice cream and begin plating Joey’s dessert. “So, are you having fun playing Evan’s little game tonight?” he asks.

  I stare at him, surprised by his inappropriate comment. “Ryker, I know what you must think, but he’s not playing games. We both still have feelings for each other, and it’s just, we thought we could, I wanted to see, I don’t know how to explain it so it makes sense.”

  His eyes flash over to look at me, like he’s trying to solve a riddle. “Believe me, it’s a game alright. He’s testing you. How far you’ll let him take this. How quickly he can get you to cave. He doesn’t respect you. You deserve better.” He takes the cheesecake from me and returns it to the cooler, returning with a small ramekin of brioche bread pudding. He knows the menu well.

  “Better than what? You hardly know Evan and you don’t know the first thing about our relationship, Ryker. It’s complicated.” I know he’s only seen the worst side of Evan, but I don’t have the time or the desire to try to explain our relationship to him right here and right now.

  “Better than putting yourself in harm’s way. Better than living under a microscope, constantly subjecting yourself to media scrutiny, and repeatedly having your heart broken into a million tiny pieces.” He glares at me. “Do you want me to go on? Because I could.”

  “No,” I mutter coldly. “I get your point.” I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, and walk away, looking for a big piece of chocolate cake for Evan’s dessert. When I return to the counter, Ryker is still lingering, helping garnish the plates that I’ve completed and placing them on the cooling tray so the ice cream doesn’t melt.

  “I know you don’t like hearing what I have to say, but someone has to say it. Everyone else is so mesmerized by his looks, his charm, and his fame that they forget. They forget he has flaws. Don’t ever forget that, Jette. Not for one moment.” He lowers his voice and speaks softly enough so that only I can hear him. “The minute you forget might be the minute your whole life changes.”

  As I stare at Ryker, astounded by his words, I hear the kitchen door swing open. When I look, I see Evan standing there watching. He takes a deep breath, and then walks over towards us. “Oh, there you are. I was worried.” He kisses me on the head, never breaking his defiant stare at Ryker. “Is everything okay in here?”

  “Fine,” I answer a little too quickly. “I’m just getting our desserts plated and Ryker was kind enough to help.” I move around the kitchen, busily gathering the items for the last of our dessert plates.

  “You don’t seem fine,” he presses. “Is anything wrong?” He directs his comment towards Ryker.

  “I was just giving Juliette some advice on how to manage things better. That’s what I was hired for. Isn’t that right?” he replies sarcastically. I’ve hardly ever seen anyone stand up to Evan like that. It makes me uncomfortable. I feel like they’re about to whip out penises for a pissing contest.

  “That’s true. I believe you were hired to get the team ready for our Grand Opening, which is nearly over. I guess that means you’ll be moving on soon.” Evan glowers at him.

  “Boys, please. Not now. Evan, please go check on Joey. I’ll be out there with our desserts in two minutes. Okay?” I plead with my eyes for him to walk away. I need to know he can control his anger.

  “Sure, Juliette. If that’s what you want.” He sweeps his hand across my back and slides his finger along the bare skin of my arm. “Don’t be long,” he calls back as he walks out the door defiantly.

  Ryker chuckles when Evan walks out, making his distaste for our relationship loud and clear. “Well wasn’t that interesting?” he teases.

  I give Ryker a dirty look. “He came in to help. That’s all. And, just in case you didn’t notice, he kept his cool the entire time.”

  “Looked to me like he was marking his territory, Jette. Making sure I know that he was here first.” Ryker is moving around the kitchen with ease, putting things away and cleaning up messes he finds.

  “Maybe he thinks I’m worth fighting for,” I fire back.

  “I can’t argue with that,” he grins, eyes locked on mine. He grabs two plates and hands them to me before grabbing the other two for himself. “Lead the way, boss. Dessert time.”

  Ryker follows me through the restaurant as I weave my way through the tables towards the booth in the back where my dinner group waits for dessert. I place my two plates down in front of Joey and Maggie, and then scoot into the booth beside Evan. Ryker gives me my dessert, and then Evan gets his. He politely offers, “Enjoy,” then returns to the kitchen to help expedite the remaining food orders.

  Evan places his hand on my thigh, and proceeds to eat with the other, never, not for one moment, breaking that connection. Is his need for me a sign of his love or his desire to possess and claim ownership?

  Eventually, we say good-bye to Joey and Maggie, and then walk them to their waiting car out front. A few more photos are snapped, and off they go. I step up on my tiptoes and give Evan a peck on the cheek. “What was that for?” he asks.

  “Thank you for a magical night, Evan. I haven’t had this much fun in a very long time.” Together, we return to the restaurant.

  There are only a few customers left, and Evan and I make sure to thank each one of them for joining us tonight. I ask each table a few questions about their meal, their drinks, and service tonight and I’m over the moon with the feedback we’re receiving. Every single table has raving reviews and can’t wait to come back again. Relief, joy, and pride wash over me with each glowing remark.

  When the last customer leaves, Evan and I lock the doors, and give a sigh of relief.

  “Emmy, Derek, Marcus, come on out from behind the bar,” he orders. “Adam, get your ass over here,” he demands. “Juliette, please go get Reese and Natalie from the kitchen.”

  “And Ryker, Jette – don’t forget Ryker,” Emmy calls to me.

  Not sure why we’re all being summoned and not asking any questions, I rush to the back of the house and bring the kitchen staff out front. The eight of us watch as Evan lines up nine shot glasses. He fills a shaker with lots of ice and black vodka. As he’s shaking it, he begins to tell us why we’re all standing here. “I’ve been practicing a little bit, experimenting with my own cocktails. In honor of Juliette’s high school team, the Panthers, I’ve created this drink I’d like to share with you all tonight.” He pours the chilled liquor into each of the nine glasses. Next, he grabs a bottle of Goldschlager and carefully fills each glass to the rim. Gold flakes float on top, creating a unique and dramatic drinking experience. “It’s called a Black and Gold,” he proudly announces. “I know it’s not much, but it’s
my way of thanking you for a spectacular evening. You’ve all done an amazing job and I’m certain we’ve created something special together. Please raise your glasses and join me in a toast.”

  Everyone grabs a shot glass and holds it high in the air. “In the words of Vince Lombardi ... Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection, we catch excellence. Here’s to the excellence that each of you demonstrated tonight!”

  We all clink glasses and reply in unison, “To Excellence!” Everyone begins chatting excitedly, complimenting Evan on his drink creation and congratulating one another on pulling off a successful night. I sit back on my barstool and watch with great joy as Emmy hops into Adam’s waiting arms. Camilla, who’s been hanging back and watching from a respectable distance, joins our little group, and congratulates her fiancé, Marcus, on his success, too. Even Reese and Derek exchange compliments while Natalie and Ryker do the same. Watching my dearest friends in the world celebrate together makes me feel like a proud parent. This is exactly what I’ve worked so hard for – to share my joy, my dreams, and my achievements with those I love the most.

  Evan slips out from behind the bar and stands behind me. He takes my bar stool and spins it so that I’m facing him. He’s got the most adorably devilish grin on his face. He inches closer to me, nudging his legs between mine, forcing me to open up for him. He places both hands on the bar behind me, bringing us nose-to-nose. Softly, sweetly, he turns his head slightly, surprising me with Eskimo kisses. He whispers in my ear, “Come home with me tonight, Juliette.”

  I smile at the thought, place my hands on his hips, and bring my lips to his ear. Gently, I nibble on his earlobe and inhale his manly scent, as I hiss, “No.”

  Evan backs up infinitesimally and breathes seductively, “Please.”

  I bite my lip and shake my head. “No,” I repeat. “Not yet.”

  Evan steps back and teases, “Oh, okay – not yet. What kind of plan do you have worked out in the beautifully devious mind of yours, Miss Fletcher?”

  “I’ll make a deal with you, Mr. McGuire.” I pull him closer by grabbing his belt loops and dragging him into me. “I’ll let you take me on a date if you agree to join me at my doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

  The impish grin disappears, immediately replaced by a look of concern and worry. “Doctor? Juliette, are you okay? Is something wrong?”

  “No, Evan, the appointment is with my therapist. I’ll do all the talking. You don’t have to say a word,” I beg. “I know you’re off tomorrow. It’s just for one hour. That’s it. Give me one hour and then I’ll let you take me out, just the two of us.” I wrap my legs around his, and lock him in a tight embrace. “You can make me dinner, and then maybe I’ll make you – ”

  He stops me in the middle of my sentence with a kiss. I wrap my fingers in his hair when I feel his tongue collide with my own. I lose all my defenses and let him devour me. When he finally releases me, he looks down with clouded, sultry eyes. “Is that a ‘yes’?” I ask.

  “Right now, Juliette, you could ask me almost anything and I’d be helpless to refuse.”

  I wake up bright and early the next day after a solid night’s sleep. I’m feeling more hopeful than I have in weeks. As I brew myself a cup of hot coffee, I get a text from Evan.

  Evan: Morning Running Grl.

  Juliette: Good morning chief. Change ur mind yet?

  Evan: nope. Pick u up at 10?

  Juliette: OK – see u then

  When Auggie catches a whiff of the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the house, he calls for me to help him up and out of bed. Auggie sits with me as I make us breakfast. He listens as I share every juicy detail about the night. As I clean up from breakfast, he pulls out his iPad and searches for pictures and reviews from last night. “Jepetto, come here, my dear – you’re going to love this!”

  I turn off the water and dry off my hands before rejoining Auggie at the kitchen island. He hands over the iPad and the screen is filled with the most glorious picture of the eight of us standing beneath a Grand Opening Banner in front of our restaurant. Evan has his arm around me and we both look beyond happy. I’m smiling so broadly, it feels like my face might split in half. I hand the iPad back to Auggie and return to wash the rest of the dishes.

  “Don’t you want to read the reviews?” he calls to me over the loud sound of running water.

  “Nope, I was there, I know how it went. I’ve seen what I need to see. Can you message me that picture, Auggie?” I want to have that picture with me, always.

  When I’m done cleaning, I help Auggie get comfortable on the couch. It’s time for me to jump in the shower. Evan will be here soon. We have a very important appointment in exactly one hour and I have a very good feeling.

  Chapter Fifteen

  More Than Meets the Eye

  After a short visit with Auggie, we drive straight to the counselor’s office. Evan insists we take my sad excuse for a car because he doesn’t want anyone to recognize him or his fancy sports car. I have concerns about his privacy, as well. “Are you positive you didn’t tell anyone, Evan? Not even Adam.”

  “No, Juliette, I didn’t say a word to him or to anyone. But, honestly, I don’t understand why we’re keeping secrets from Adam,” he repeats. Last night, I asked him to keep this private, and it was a bit of a struggle to get him to agree. I promised I would explain today.

  “I just think Adam’s a little too involved in your personal life, Evan. He’s done an amazing job of managing your professional affairs, but I think it’s time you started managing your own life,” I tell him.

  “Maybe you’re right. Adam didn’t like it when I wouldn’t tell him where we were going today. I’m not sure why, though.”

  “Evan, can I ask you a question?”

  “Anything, Juliette.” He takes my hand in his and gives an affectionate squeeze. “You can ask me absolutely anything.”

  “Today is Friday. You haven’t been to practice in exactly one week, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, I was just wondering if you feel any different? The past few days, you seem calmer. More relaxed. I couldn’t help but notice.”

  “Actually, I do feel better.” He brings my hand up to his lips and places a soft kiss on the top of my hand. “But I don’t think it has anything to do with football. It has everything to do with you, Juliette. I knew I was going to spend time with you,” he assures me.

  “That’s really sweet, Evan, but I don’t think it’s true. Last week, each time you saw me, it ended in a fight. The week before that wasn’t much better,” I remind him.

  “Hmm. Maybe Adam and my father were right. It’s probably just stress. I’ve had a whole week off to decompress, and I feel like a new man,” he proudly proclaims.

  “Evan, baby, think about it before you answer me. You’ve been playing football for a long time now. Why, all of a sudden, does your entire personality change just because it’s football season again? Granted, I’ve never known you during previous football seasons, but I seriously doubt you ever turned into such an angry brute before.”

  Evan quiets to consider my observation. He says nothing. He doesn’t accept my theory as fact, but he doesn’t deny it, either. Again, he just squeezes my hand and drives on.

  When we arrive at Dr. Falkowski’s office, I check in with the receptionist and tell her that I’d like my boyfriend to sit in on my session today. She asks for Evan’s name for their records and he responds without missing a beat, “Evan Thomas.” My mind immediately flashes back to the early days of our relationship when he hid his identity from me by using that name. Technically, since Thomas is his middle name, he’s not lying. He’s just withholding his last name. I can’t say I blame him, though. If word were to get out that we are in counseling together, the rumor mills would buzz with excitement.

  Since we are the first appointment of the day, there’s no one else in the office. Dr. Falkowski comes out right away and invites us into his office. “Jul
iette, it’s nice to see you again. Who have you brought with you today?”

  “Dr. Falkowski, this is Evan Thomas. Evan, this is Dr. Falkowski.” The men shake hands cordially.

  Dr. Falkowski takes a seat behind his desk, takes out a notepad and scribbles some precursory notes. As he’s writing, he addressed Evan directly, “Mr. Thomas, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Juliette has told me a lot about you.”

  “I’m sure she has. But before we continue, I’d like to ask you a few questions. Do you record your sessions?” Evan asks.

  “My notes are all hand written,” he responds, showing Evan the yellow notepad he has in front of him. “I don’t do any audio or video recordings of my sessions. If it becomes therapeutically necessary, I make sure to get the consent of the patient before beginning. I don’t see the need for any such recordings at this point.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Evan visibly relaxes. “Now, for the record, my full name is Evan Thomas McGuire, but in this setting, I prefer to use Evan Thomas. Juliette tells me that you are familiar with my situation. Is that correct?” Evan is acting as if he is in control of this entire process. I hope that’s not the case.

  “Yes, I understand your situation as well as the circumstances that brought you here today. Your privacy is very important to me, as well. I want you to feel that you are in a safe place where you can speak freely.” Dr. Falkowski stands up, walks to the front of his desk, and takes a seat in a chair near Evan and me. “So tell me, Juliette, what would you like to discuss today?”

  I look at Evan to see if he has any input. He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders, reminding me that he’s only here as a spectator. “Um, well, I guess I’d like to discuss my behavior and choices last night.”

  “I see. What, specifically, concerns you the most?” he asks.

  “Well, Evan and I agreed to act as a couple in front of the press at yesterday’s Grand Opening. We want the news to be about the restaurant, not our personal problems. But I’m afraid I may have taken things a little too far,” I confess. I give Dr. Falkowski all the details about the entire night, starting with make-out session in front of the press, and ending with our flirting at the bar after closing. He listens carefully without interrupting me, and takes notes throughout it all.