Maverick

by Cruise, Anna

  We made small talk for another half an hour, mostly between the two of them, me adding a word, here or there. This was how it always went. It wasn't awkward. It was just what it had become.

  And then came the next part of our routine.

  “I should give you guys a minute,” Anthony said, glancing first at me, then at Leo.

  Neither of us said anything.

  Anthony stood and Leo did, too. They hugged quickly.

  Anthony put a hand on my shoulder. “Meet you outside.”

  I nodded and watched him leave the room.

  I turned back to Leo.

  “You look good,” he said.

  “You, too.”

  He shrugged. “Good as I can, I guess.”

  “You do,” I said.

  He nodded slowly, rubbing at his chin. “You doing alright?”

  “I'm busy,” I said. “I'm working a ton. But I don't mind. It's good.”

  “That's good,” he said. “But not what I meant.”

  I hesitated, then nodded. “I know.”

  He swallowed and looked away from me for a moment, his eyes moving around the room before coming back and settling on me. “I'm sorry, Gina.”

  “I know, Leo.”

  “Do you?”

  I waited, then nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Because I am, Gina,” he said, staring at me. “I was sorry the second it happened.”

  “I know that. That's why you ran.”

  He folded his hands together and set them on the table. “That's not what I mean.”

  “It's the truth,” I said.

  He started to say something, then bit off the words. He blinked several times. “Yeah. It is. I was scared and I was stupid. I wish it had never happened. And not just because I'm in here.” He paused. “For you, too.”

  It was my turn to look around the room at all of the fractured families. I always wondered who was who. Who were the wives, who were the parents, who were the kids. The room had a way of turning everyone into the same people.

  I looked at Leo. “I know.”

  “So if you know, why can't you forgive me?”

  It was the first time he'd ever asked me that directly and it caught me off-guard. That wasn't part of our routine. I wasn't ready for that question.

  “I don't know,” I finally said.

  “You don't know,” he repeated, skeptical.

  “No, I don't, Leo,” I said, irritated. “I don't know. It's not just as simple as you saying you're sorry. It's not like you broke my bike or lost my teddy bear. It's a bit bigger than that.”

  “So, what?” he asked. “We just keep doing this forever?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “I don't know. I don't have a clue. It took me six months before I could even look at you. So this whole forgiveness thing? Probably going to take me awhile.”

  “Some days, I think you might stay angry with me for the rest of your life.”

  “Some days, I think I might.”

  He leaned forward. “Look, if he had just...”

  I held up a hand. “Stop. Just stop. I'm not going to get into this with you. I'm not going to rehash it all.”

  “Yeah, but if it had been someone else...”

  “But it wasn't, Leo,” I said, my stomach rolling over. “It wasn't someone else. And that's never going to change and no matter how sorry you are, it won't change the fact that it wasn't just some random guy in the street that you beat the shit out of. It wasn't like all of the other times you picked a fight with a stranger just to show off what a bad ass you were. We're stuck with that and it's never going away.”

  He leaned back in his chair, exhaling, tapping his fingers on the table.

  “I should probably go,” I said.

  He nodded. “I know.” He paused. “I am sorry, Gina. I was sorry that night, I was sorry the next day and I've been sorry ever since. I'd do anything to take it back. Anything.”

  I stood, relieved that our annual dance was complete. “I know you would, Leo. Some day maybe that'll be enough for me.” I smiled at him. “Happy Birthday.”

  TWENTY THREE

  “I've set up a couple of interviews for this week,” Gina said. “Nothing you need to be afraid of. Just a way to keep you in the news in a good way.”

  We were having lunch at a small Mexican place about a mile from my house. She'd called me the morning after my free day and told me to meet her for lunch. I'd slept decently and gone for a short run in the morning and was more than happy to get out of the house to go meet her for lunch. Going an entire day without seeing her had ended up feeling like the longest day of my life.

  “There won't be any ground rules,” she said, folding up a tortilla. “So they'll be able to ask whatever they want. Just be honest, upfront and it'll be fine.”

  I nodded, pushing the plate of enchiladas away from me. “OK. I can do that.”

  “Then next week, I'm trying to hook you up with another group of kids,” she said, pointing a fork at me. “Get you out in the water again with them. Beyond all that, we'll play it by ear.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said.

  “And I'll let the tour guys know we are in good shape,” she said, chewing on the tortilla. “I think the interviews later this week will help show that.”

  “What about Branagan?”

  She made a face. “No one's heard a peep from them.”

  I smiled. “Cool.”

  “And here's a question I should've asked you a long time ago,” she said. “Is there anything you'd like to do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “As far as publicity or community service, is there anything you'd like to do?” she asked. “Anything that sounds interesting to you or something that might be fun for you? It doesn't have to be all things I come up with.”

  “Yeah, let's do something at a bar,” I said.

  She started to say something, then smiled when I started laughing. “Very funny.”

  “Just making sure you're paying attention,” I said, happy that I could make her smile. I'd wanted to say something more flirtatious, something that I'd like to do to her, but I'd thought better of it and made the safer joke.

  “I'm always paying attention,” she said.

  “Can I think about it?” I asked. “I've never really thought about it before.”

  “Of course,” she said. “Just let me know if there's anything you think of and we can see if we can make it work.”

  I chewed on the straw in my soda for a moment. “And I should apologize for something.”

  “I thought we were done with apologies. We did all that.”

  “This is for something else.”

  She pushed her plate away, like she'd just lost her appetite. “For what?”

  “For poking my nose in where it doesn't belong,” I said. “About your family.”

  She shifted in her chair. “What are you talking about?”

  “I was...I was just asking a lot of questions about your family and it was none of my business,” I said. “I didn't know about your brother. I'm sorry.”

  A pale shade of pink washed slowly over her face. She fumbled with her silverware and set the utensils on the plate. She wadded up her napkin and tossed it on top. “Do a little reading on your day off?”

  “I was just curious,” I said. “You were acting kinda weird about it...”

  “I was not.”

  I made a face. “You cut me off about it and you were vague. I just figured I'd find out that he was a surfer or something. I was just curious.”

  “It wasn't any of your business.”

  “I know. Which is why I'm apologizing for asking so many questions.”

  “But it didn't stop you from getting on the Internet or whatever and invading my privacy,” she snapped.

  I didn't think using the Internet was an invasion of privacy, but I felt bad regardless. Once again, I'd done something that pissed her off, crossed some boundary line that I apparently couldn't see.


  “I need to go,” she said, standing, grabbing her trash and heading for the door. She barely paused long enough at the trash can to dump her tray before going through the door to the outside.

  I grabbed my stuff and hustled after her.

  “Hey,” I said, pushing out of the restaurant. “Hey!”

  She stopped and whirled around. “It was none of your business, Kellen. None.”

  “And I apologized for it,” I said. “Jesus. I was trying to apologize and you won't even let me. Just like before.”

  “You should've left it alone,” she said, shaking her head. “It was none of your business.”

  “I went looking to find out if he surfed or whatever, since you said they surfed,” I said, raising my voice. “That was it. I didn't know!”

  “Well now you do,” she said, continuing to her car. “Congratulations.”

  “Hey, what the hell is your problem?” I asked, walking toward her. “I've done everything you've asked of me. Everything. And I haven't given you shit about it. I've tried to be friends with you, but you haven't given me anything. You ask me a ton of questions, I answer. But I ask you and I get stonewalled. Nothing. And yeah, I get it. It's your fucking job to ask me questions. And I know I stepped over the line the other night and I really did feel pretty shitty about that. But it gets a little frustrating when I'm trying to find out who the hell it is that I'm spending all this time with and all I get is yelled at for apologizing.”

  She stood next to the driver's side door and looked away from me for a minute. Finally, she opened her door and said “Come on. I'll take you home.”

  “Fuck you,” I said, fed up, turning in the other direction and heading toward the beach. “I'll walk.”

  TWENTY FOUR

  I knew she wouldn't be able to follow me in her car if I headed toward the beach.

  I crossed the boardwalk, kicked off my sandals and stalked through the cool, uneven sand. I didn't know why the hell she was so upset with me. Anyone could've found the information. If Matty knew, then it was out there. She may have wanted it to be private, but it wasn't. That wasn't my fault. And I'd tried to apologize. But she wouldn't even let me do that.

  This was what I got for starting to feel like I could trust someone again. I thought again about the night outside my house, the night I'd kissed her. She'd gotten pissed then, too, but that was understandable. I'd been out of line and I'd apologized. This? Asking her about her brother and having her accuse me of prying and sticking my nose where it didn't belong? This was ridiculous.

  Screw her.

  I reached my place, threw my shoes on the table, ripped off my shirt, grabbed the six foot O'Neill that I always left on the patio and headed for the water.

  The waves were terrible but I didn't care. There were no swells to speak of, just small, uneven lumps of water that occasionally turned into a passable break. But I paddled fiercely into them, jamming the heel of the board into whatever resembled a wave and carving it out until it died. Then I repeated the process about fifty more times. An hour and a half later, every part of me ached and I'd lost some of my anger to the ocean. I walked slowly from the water to the sand and collapsed.

  I stared up at the sky, the salt from the ocean still stinging my eyes, my chest heaving. If Jay'd been around, I would've called him, ranted and raved and waited for him to make some joke to snap me out of it. But he wasn't around anymore. And that was my fault.

  Now I was alone and it was no one's fault but my own.

  I pushed myself off the sand and headed back toward the ocean, not to surf but to rinse off. I grabbed the board from where I'd propped it and made my way back to the house. Rip was standing on the other side of the slider, itching to get outside. I opened it and he slipped through, rubbing past my leg before he skittered down to the sand. I set my board back on the patio and stepped inside, sliding the door shut with more force than necessary.

  Even with ninety minutes tearing up the water, the anger hadn't left me. And suddenly, it wasn't just about Gina and her reaction to finding out that I'd done a little digging about her personal life. Everything was sitting wrong with me. The stuff I'd done. The shit I was being asked to still do. It felt like everything I'd done was for no reason. I knew that wasn't true, but that was how it felt. Her argument would be that I'd done those things for me, not for her. But I didn't care. I felt irrational and angry and just flat out pissed off.

  A buzzing on the counter got my attention and I picked up my phone.

  Gina's name was flashing on the screen.

  I stared at the fridge. I wanted a beer so badly.

  The phone vibrated in my hand.

  I touched the decline button.

  Screw her.

  TWENTY FIVE

  I slammed the phone down on the counter without leaving a message.

  He wasn't answering.

  And who knew what the hell he was doing?

  I'd watched him storm off toward the beach, thought about going to get him, then decided I'd let him go and cool off.

  And immediately wondered if that was a mistake.

  I'd gone back to my hotel, tossed my keys and bag and shoes on the bed and collapsed on top of the bed.

  Kellen had caught me off guard. Again.

  I hadn't been expecting questions about Leo, especially after I'd just visited him. It felt like Kellen had gone some place without my permission. And even though he was apologizing for asking the questions, the fact that he'd gone looking irked me. It wasn't any of his business and I didn't need him or any other client digging into my personal life.

  I grabbed the TV remote to find a diversion to the thoughts racing through my mind. I flipped through channels mindlessly for an hour, unable to focus on anything on the screen. I finally shut it off, grabbed my phone and punched in Kellen's number. I had no idea what I was going to say to him but I couldn't stand where we'd left things.

  And he hadn't answered.

  I punched the number again and it went straight to voicemail after ringing one time.

  He was purposely ignoring me.

  Personally, it irritated me, but maybe it was deserved. I'd flown off the handle at him and I wasn't sure that had been fair. I thought back to the night in his driveway. I'd done the same thing then. But at least then, I'd had good reason to. This time around? All he did was ask a few simple questions about my family. If I were him, I probably would've been ignoring me, too.

  But professionally?

  Professionally, he was my responsibility and if he was so pissed that he went off the rails, that was going to be on me. I was supposed to be supervising him and making sure he towed the line. Anything went wrong, it was going to be on me.

  Shit.

  The last thing I wanted to do was see him. Not the way I'd left things. But I didn't have a choice.

  I tossed the phone on the bed, dug into my suitcase and changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top. I pulled my hair back in a pony tail and headed out of the hotel room door, hoping I could catch Kellen in time.

  TWENTY SIX

  The banging on the door woke me up.

  I stirred on the couch and peeled open my eyes. The sun was going down out the patio door and the TV was tuned to a baseball game. Rip was curled up near my feet, snoring softly, covered in sand from his little jaunt outside when I'd come in from surfing. My phone was vibrating like crazy on the kitchen table.

  I wondered how long I'd been asleep.

  I ignored the phone and went to see who the hell was trying to break my door down.

  Gina stood there, holding a large brown paper grocery bag, scowling at me. “I was about to kick in the door.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I practically growled.

  “Making sure you don't get yourself in trouble,” she said. “Can I come in?”

  I stepped aside. “Why the hell would I be getting in trouble?”

  She brushed past me and I couldn't see what was in the bag. She set in on the table. “I do
n't know.”

  “So you just assumed that because I didn't answer your call that I was gonna go get in a fight or sleep with random chicks?” I asked, shutting the door. “Maybe knock off a bank while I'm at it?”

  Her face colored. “It did occur to me that you might go off half-cocked and do something stupid, yes.”

  “Why?” I asked. “I'm fine.”

  “Really? Then why didn't you answer your phone after you stomped off like a six year old?”

  I walked over to her and stood so close, we were almost touching. I looked down at her. “I answer my phone when I want to talk to the person on the other end.”

  She met my gaze, not giving an inch. “Exactly. You were pissed at me.”

  “Well, you were a total bitch.”

  “I agree. I was.”

  I hesitated, not sure I heard her right. “What?”

  “I was,” she said. “I was out of line. I'm sorry.”

  I wasn't sure what to say to that because it was the last thing I was expecting to hear.

  “But guess what?” she said, poking me in the bare chest. “You've been keeping your own secrets from me.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Really? You've never said three words to me about Jay.”

  Now it was time for my face to flush.

  “It's the elephant in the room,” she said. “Everyone knows about it, but you won't talk about it and everyone's afraid to ask.”

  I didn't say anything.

  “Just like my brother,” she said. “Everyone knows about it, but I don't talk about it and everyone's afraid to ask. Except for you.”

  Now it felt like she was towering over me.

  “So here's my offer,” she said, her voice even. “I think we both need to come clean. We both keep all this shit bottled up inside and it's not doing either of us any good. So you wanna ask me about my brother? You ask anything you want and I'll answer. But I get to do the same with Jay. You tell me, I'll tell you.” She reached in the bag and pulled out a twelve pack of Corona. “And I figured this might help both of us.”