What had Emma seen that made her question me the way she did? Will had obviously talked about me; she obviously trusted me to some extent, but did she know that she had been sharing a Lexus with the subject of her inquiry? And if she had figured it out, was she going to campaign for me? Did I want her to?
Yes.
Knowing that we were at an impasse, I reluctantly put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. The last thing that I needed right now was to get caught fantasizing about happy ever afters that would never come to pass. Only I would be stupid enough to stalk a cop in plain view of passerby, parked in my brand new vehicle with a temporary dealer plate right behind his police cruiser.
It was much later that night when my cell buzzed with the text from one WD. A simple, one word message: Thanks.
Because I didn’t know how to, I didn’t respond.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“We need to have a dinner party,” Blake announced.
We were sitting in the workroom at the shop, a sea of fabric swatches spread out between us. Another corporate client, another project that she insisted she needed my opinion on. The days where I was the dutiful runner were few and far between. She was pulling me in on the bigger jobs, having me ride shotgun in the Trailblazer when we went on search missions for inspiration.
Hopefully that had nothing to do with the fact that the last time she’d let me out of her sight for more than half an hour at a time, I’d not returned for the rest of the week. And I’d done so bruised and battered and in a world of hurt, only some of it physical.
She acted like it was due to my natural instincts at design. And if I sat down and thought about it, more often than not we did agree. Or at least she didn’t look at me cross eyed when I voiced an opinion. If she had a different direction she was aiming for, she addressed it tactfully, though never in a patronizing tone. Perhaps the job offer hadn’t been a charity outreach mission after all. Maybe I did have some raw talent and she had been able to tap into it, buried as it was in the mire of the banking industry.
“We do?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.
“We do. At your place.”
“Why mine? Yours is bigger.”
“Because you’ve spent so much time redecorating it. You deserve to show it off.”
This was true, but everyone that was anyone had already seen it. Over the course of the past few weeks, I’d moved methodically from room to room, covering Lauren’s vision with my own. The living room transformation had sparked my creativity and though it wasn’t on the scale of a grand overhaul, it was definitely more my taste now than my friend’s. The end result was something I was immensely proud of, and I knew Blake shared in that sentiment.
“Whatever. And when you say ‘we’, I’m assuming you mean you will set the table and I’ll cook the food. Because if it’s the other way around, we might as well just pick up some pizzas on our way home from work and call it good.”
Blake halfheartedly dismissed my observation with a wave of her hand. She knew it was factual and that there was no use disputing the reality of things. Her lack of culinary skills were of epic proportions, the tales of failed dinners woven into folklore now. If you were looking for something more involved than scrambled eggs or ramen noodles, she was not your girl.
“Lauren will help you,” she said on a shrug.
“Does Lauren know she’s helping me?”
“Call her tonight,” she told me in lieu of an answer. I took this to mean that she’d already been prepped and that I, the hostess of the event, was the last to know.
“Yes, mother,” I sang, loving that I could talk back to my boss in that fashion, and loving it even more when she gave me the finger in return. “But if she’s going to be cooking, shouldn’t we just do it at her place? You built your brother the ultimate kitchen for entertaining. Double ovens, a huge dining room table -”
“The party’s at your place.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
There was no use in arguing. Not when Blake used that tone of voice. So I relented, not really sure that it was anything to fight about at all. I was one to pick my battles wisely and somehow, having my friends over for meatloaf or spaghetti or something was not worth the energy to complain about.
“Anyone you want to invite?” Blake shot me a sideways glance, full of hidden meaning.
Well, there had been nothing to fret about.
“Nope.” I crossed my arms under my breasts, closing myself off from her scrutiny.
Or so I thought.
“Anyone that you want me to invite for you?”
“Blake.”
“Gracie.”
“I’m good. I promise.”
“It’s just that I feel bad with an odd number. I mean, me and Chris, Lauren and Matthew, you and no one.”
“I’m used to it. I’ve always been the third wheel, or the fifth, depending on who’s there. Luckily, I bring along that sparkling personality of mine so it’s easier to forget that I’m all alone.”
“Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you use the whole life of the party vibe to overcompensate for what you find are your faults?”
“You sound exactly like -” I stopped myself abruptly, since I’d been about to name drop Will.
“Like who?”
“Doug,” I improvised.
“Lauren’s dad gives you advice?”
“Doesn’t he give you advice?” I batted my eyelashes innocently. It was a fair enough question, and she looked as though she was swallowing my explanation and finding it palatable enough to accept. After all, the elder Jefferies had given Matthew a fair dose of his wisdom before they became family by marriage. She had to know that.
“Well, no.” There was almost disappointment in her tone.
“Maybe you should try it sometime. He’s pretty good at what he does.”
“I think I have my life sorted for now. But I’ll file that away for later and take him up on your offer if I need it eventually.”
“He’d bend over backwards for you.”
There was truth in that statement and we both knew it. For someone who had once felt so completely alone a decade ago, Blake now had family in spades - real or extended. Her eyes shone with unshed tears at the knowledge, even as her lips turned up in a grin.
“So what has he told you to do about Indy Guy?”
My eyes dropped down to the table top. So when she smacked her hand upon it in sudden realization, the noise made me jump and nearly fall off my stool.
“You little shit!” she exclaimed as I stared at her, wide-eyed. “Doug knows Indy Guy. Doesn’t he? He’s met him and talked to him and I’m certain he has way more information than any of the rest of us. Right?”
My silence was the only answer she needed.
“So what does Doug think about all this?”
I shrugged. “Doug more or less is my sounding board for things. He listens and tries not to judge.”
“So what’s with the whole secrecy thing?”
“It’s complicated. And it’s not worth mentioning now because it’s over and it will never be anything again. So when I need to vent, I call him up because he already knows and I don’t have to explain myself. The shock value has worn off, I guess.”
Her eyes widened. “No way. You didn’t go and hook up with Eric, did you?”
“Hell no. You’ve gotten further with Eric than I ever will, Miss Thing.”
“Don’t remind me.” She paused for a brief moment, conjuring up a more likely scenario in her head. “Indy guy was married when you hooked up. You got caught up in an illicit affair, fell in love and he dumped you to go back to his wife.”
Not exactly the truth, but way closer than her first guess. Close enough to make the accusation sting, especially since Will had admitted his devotion to Stephanie and not me.
“It’s not like that. I would never be a party to someone cheating on their spouse.”
“Gracie, I’m not saying you were in the wrong. I kn
ow you’d never do anything like that on purpose. Maybe he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring, maybe he hit on you first and you didn’t know until you were too far gone.”
“Blake, quit it. It’s not what happened.”
“So then what? Why are you so ashamed? Is he younger than you? An interracial relationship? Is he bisexual? I mean, seriously, none of that would matter if you loved him. And you loving him would make all of us up here love him, too, so don’t even try to play the close-minded friends card here.”
“I’m not the one who’s ashamed,” I said quietly.
She froze for a second, clearly expecting the dam to burst. She wanted details and lots of them, and I would protect Will to my death if I had to. So I gave her the most truth I could muster and prayed like hell that she’d let it drop.
“He’s ashamed of me.” It came out in a whisper, all the more volume I could give it. It didn’t matter that Will had told me time and again that it wasn’t the case; that was still the answer that I felt down in my core, the only one that made sense.
“Oh, Gracie,” Blake breathed.
Before I knew it, she had hopped down from her stool, rounded the table, and folded me into a hug. I winced as emotion burned through my veins, threatening to spill over. If I caved now, then all was lost and I’d truly deserve Will’s consternation. Maybe it would be easier to go down that route, give him a reason to be upset with me, be the Blake to his Chris. Then we could float around in the same circles for years on end hell bent on ignoring our true feelings, solving nothing.
But even Blake and Chris had ended up together, and Gracie and Will was never meant to be.
“You don’t mean that, darling.” I tensed at her use of Will’s nickname for me, even though it certainly hadn’t been intentional. She continued muttering endearments into my hair, an attempt to console me. But her words fell on deaf ears. Hers wasn’t the voice that I wanted to tell me how beautiful I was, how smart and witty I was, how anyone who rejected me didn’t know what they were missing. But I heard her loud and clear when she made her final point. “Anyone who would be ashamed of you is a first class dick.”
I shook my head violently. “No. You wouldn’t say that if you knew. He’s quite possibly the most wonderful man on the planet, and he’s right. We would never work together. For as much as he is everything good in the world, I’m everything dark and awful.”
“Honey, anyone who makes you feel like that doesn’t warrant the pedestal you’ve placed him upon.”
“That’s what you think. And I appreciate your concern, really I do. But just leave it alone, Blake. I know you’re chomping at the bit to set me up, but don’t. I’m not ready. I don’t think I ever will be.”
Her crystal blue eyes studied me intently, searching for hidden meaning. When she found none, she acquiesced. “Fine. No matchmaking.”
“Thank you. Does this mean there’s no dinner party?”
“No, you won’t get out of it that easily. Now go home and have a drink. Grab a bottle on the way there if you need one.”
I snorted, knowing that alcohol wouldn’t do anything to heal my wounds. Not when it had been the impetus for them in the first place. But let her think that I could whisk away my problems with a glass or two or ten of wine. I had better things to do with my after work hours.
Like damage control.
No time was wasted as I grabbed my purse, waved a hasty goodbye and rushed out to my car. The Lexus’s door shut securely behind me, I fired up the engine and before shifting her into reverse gave one simple command: “call Doug”. She did.
“Hello, Gracie,” he boomed through my speakers seconds later.
I’d been listening to music earlier and forgotten how loud the volume was. I turned him down, then launched into the meat of my conversation. There wasn’t much time, and I was almost surprised that I’d gotten to him first.
“We’re under attack,” I stated dramatically.
“Pardon?”
“Blake. She knows enough to be dangerous. She knows that you know. Which means that Lauren will know that you know in about two seconds from now. If your call waiting beeps, don’t answer it.”
“She knows about Will?”
“Doug, get with the program. Blake’s on the verge of figuring it out. Emma’s right behind her, or maybe in the lead; I’m not really sure. What in the fuck am I going to do?”
“Isn’t this what you wanted?”
I sighed. “Yes. No. I don’t know. But not now. Not after everything.”
“Everything meaning your last night together?”
I’d clued him in on the events that had followed the accident. He knew that Will had come to my rescue, stayed with me all night, and that we’d fallen into our old habits. I’d left out the part about conversing with his daughter while falling into old habits, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. He got the gist of it; he knew that Will had said goodbye, thick with meaning and intention.
“Yes, that. There’s no need to dredge up ancient history. No need to relive old memories. It’s too soon to remember and too late to change anything.”
My statement didn’t stop my head from instinctively turning at the intersection that led to his duplex, craning my neck for a glimpse of his police car or his Jeep, imagining him traveling to or from home, driving the same path that I was. He was a ghost that haunted me always, the whisper of his kiss upon my lips no matter what I did, no matter how much I told myself it was over.
How could it be over when he was still there in every waking moment? And most of the unconscious ones, too?
“Gracie, think about it honey.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it, Doug.”
“Blake’s become one of your best friends in the whole entire world. She’s shared a lot with you, in the strictest confidence. This is her returning the favor. You kept her secret; she’ll keep yours.”
“Not the same. She and Chris had history. Everyone knew it; everyone expected it to be fucked up. Which it was. She wasn’t having a clandestine rendezvous with someone in the inner circle - she and Chris are charter members of the inner circle.”
“Your point being?”
“No big newsflash that she and Chris were together in every sense of the term. No doubt that there was serious attraction and love between them. The shocking part was what she was able to keep away from him for a decade, not the fact that they still loved each other.
“Will and I are completely different. She expects me to be longing after some nameless, faceless man who lives two hours away. She’s firmly in my corner now, but what happens when she finds out the truth? And Chris? He’s promised me things that he can’t deliver if it means he’ll have to turn his back on one of his best friends. I can’t make them choose sides. They’d choose Will, and I’d have nothing.”
“Matthew didn’t choose sides in the debacle that was Blake and Chris,” Doug reminded.
“Matthew didn’t know the half of it.”
“He knew the half about the engagement ring.”
“So I should talk to him? Yeah, that won’t be awkward or anything.”
“How quickly you forget that Matthew confided in you regarding his unrequited love for Lauren.”
“It wasn’t unrequited. Inconvenient, yes, but very much returned. They were just the last ones to figure it out.”
“Before you discount all of my theories, just realize that you have a support system there of people who love you and would do anything for you.”
“Until it comes down to choosing which one of us to stand behind. I’m not about to start a civil war over this.”
“Who says it would come down to that?”
My hands tightened around my steering wheel as I held firm to my belief that I needed to keep everyone in the dark. Tempting as it was to bare my soul, Will had been adamant that he didn’t want this out in the open. And if I couldn’t give him myself, I at minimum owed him that.
Didn’t I?
“I
do, Doug,” I said with more conviction than I felt.
“Then we’ll agree to disagree.”
“Fair enough. Please don’t tell Lauren.”
There was a pause, during which I could visualize him holding his breath and counting to ten. Once he had the strength to submit to my demands, he spoke his acceptance. “I promise.”
“Thank you.”
“I love you, Gracie,” he said in closing.
Though I knew this was true, he rarely said it out loud. Once again, I swallowed past the lump in my throat that emerged way too often for my liking lately.
“Love you, too.”
I disconnected the call as I pulled into my garage. As the overhead door shuttered behind my vehicle, I settled back in my leather seat and closed my eyes, preparing myself for yet another battle of wills.
Lauren would be Round Three, and I was positive she’d do it in person.
I was not wrong.
As was her semi-usual routine, I saw her Sonata cruise down her old street. If she turned left, she’d be in my driveway; right, and she’d be in Regina’s. With the weather warming up, if she intended to stop by for a few minutes, she’d park at my house and run across the street to pick up Sadie. If she was busy, doing a grab and go, she’d float right on over to Regina’s and pass me by, always giving me a quick honk of the horn as she headed back out.
She turned left.
While she collected her daughter, I collected my thoughts. Yet I wasn’t prepared when she rang my doorbell. Hours wouldn’t have given me enough lead time to fashion an argument. So I got up from the couch on shaky legs and opened my door, taking a deep breath and pretending everything was normal.
“Hey there, lender girl and mortgage baby,” I quipped, fastening a fake smile upon my face.
Sadie, for her part, didn’t understand plastic expressions and met my grin handily with her own. Damn it if she wasn’t getting to me. I was going soft in my frazzled state of mind. I clasped my hands behind my back to avoid reaching for her. Maybe I could borrow her for a couple hours, holding onto her warm little body and telling her all the sordid details of the mess that was Will and me. She wouldn’t remember later.
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