“No.” He stormed through the backyard, into the kitchen, and everything began to spin like a carnival ride.
When he finally put me on my feet we were in my bedroom, the bile had climbed higher, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I stumbled to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before my whole body began to convulse.
“It’s okay, baby,” Jake said from behind me. “Just let it out.” He held my hair with one hand and stroked my back with the other. I vaguely heard someone knocking and Grace’s muffled voice, but Jake didn’t answer. He pressed a cool washcloth to my head, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Even in my drunken state, I was mortified. There I was, wearing nothing but white lace panties, puking my guts out, while the one man I never wanted to see me like this held back my hair.
When I had nothing left, Jake grabbed my robe and draped it over my shoulders.
A cool glass was pressed into my hand, and I sat down to the tile floor. “Drink this,” Jake whispered, and for the first time that night, I didn’t argue.
He filled the glass again and handed me a couple pills. I vaguely heard the shower running as I tossed them back and took another drink.
He lifted me to stand, pulled my robe around my shoulders, and held me close. His strong hand stroked my back, and I wondered how I could ever be mad at him. All he was trying to do was stop me from making a fool of myself.
“Why don’t you take a shower. I’ll find you something to wear.”
But I didn’t want him to leave me. It felt so good standing there like that. In the morning I knew things would be different. I wouldn’t be able to say I was drunk, to hold on to him as tightly as I did now.
He turned me toward the shower and left the room. I stepped under the warm water, allowing the tears I’d been holding in all day to run down my cheeks. I rested my head against the cool tile, frustrated I’d let myself get so out of control. This wasn’t me.
I washed my hair and scrubbed my face, letting my tears rinse down the drain with the bubbles. When I stepped out of the shower, I saw my pink cami and boxers sitting on the counter. I brushed my teeth, quickly dressed, then found Jake sitting on the edge of my bed. Waiting.
He stood when I entered the room and fresh tears blurred my vision. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
He shook his head, and my heart squeezed from the look on his face. He looked tired, tormented—sad. “Let’s not talk about this now. Get some sleep.” He pulled back my covers, and I climbed into my bed.
“Thank you, Jake,” I said softly, then rested my head on my pillow and closed my eyes.
He pulled the sheet over my shoulders, and the mattress shifted under his weight as he sat beside me. His hand ran over my cheek, smoothing the hair from my face, and I felt like I did every other time he was near me—safe. He would never let anything bad happen to me. Or if it did, he’d be right by my side, holding my hand. I wouldn’t let myself think beyond that. Right now I just wanted to enjoy his closeness.
A few minutes passed and I began to relax. My breath turning shallow, and sleep threatened to take over. I felt Jake lean closer, and I inhaled the earthy scent of his skin.
“I’m sorry, Katie.” His soft lips pressed against my forehead, lingering for just a second before he stood.
I wanted to ask him what he was sorry about, but sleep was too close, and I finally let it take me.
MY EYES CRACKED OPEN, AND even with the soft light of morning the room was too bright. Em sat on the side of my bed, her short hair illuminated by the sun like a halo, and my chest filled with panic. “What time is it?” I croaked, my throat so hoarse it felt like I’d gargled sand.
“Quarter to eight,” Em replied.
I willed myself to sit, then pinched the bridge of my nose as my head threatened to split in two. “The wedding is today.”
She nodded and handed me a glass of frothy orange liquid and a couple of Tylenol. “Are you going to be okay?”
I laughed a little. “I don’t have a choice.” Which was the truth. I needed this job. I threw the pills to the back of my throat, then downed them with a drink that tasted of tangerines. “What is that?”
She only shook her head and took the glass. “It’ll help with your hangover. Get in the shower. I’ll make you something to eat.”
A minute later, warm water ran over me as clips of last night played in my head. What the hell was I thinking? That wasn’t me; I didn’t get drunk the night before an important job. I was responsible! I chose the blue pill… didn’t I? What would’ve happened had Em not awoken me? Rick made it clear I had one chance, and the opportunity almost washed down the drain because of my decision to act like a sulky idiot. Like the idiot girl who made a fool of herself at every turn. That’s what I was doing. Making myself look like a fool.
Visions of Jake stroking my naked back and the way he took care of me consumed my thoughts. He’d called me baby. An endearment he’d never used before. He’d said he was sorry, but why? I let out a defeated sigh and quickly scrubbed my face. Normally a shower was rejuvenating, but not today. Today, I was so embarrassed I wanted to cry. But I didn’t have time to wallow in tears. I didn’t even have time to wash my hair.
When I entered the kitchen ten minutes later, Em stood at the sink, and a plate of scrambled eggs waited for me on the counter. “Thanks,” I said hoarsely.
“No problem.” She loaded a dish into the washer and smiled.
“How do I look?”
She dried her hands, then tucked a wayward tag into the neck of my blouse and scanned from my messy ponytail to my black slacks. “Like you just spent the night with your head in your toilet.” Her eyes crinkled. “But in the cutest possible way, of course.”
I don’t know why, but even with the mood I was in, her honesty made me laugh. “Of course.”
I made myself a cup of coffee, then rested a hip against the counter and tested my stomach with a bite of egg. “Is Jake still sleeping?”
She shook her head, and the expression on her face made my stomach drop. “He woke me up before leaving and told me to take care of you.”
I cringed. Take care of me. It was always that. “What happened after—” But I stopped. So many questions lingering on my tongue, but I couldn’t ask any of them. I didn’t have time for answers, and I wasn’t sure I wanted them anyway.
“You mean after Jake threw you over his shoulder like a caveman?” Her brows were creased, and she shook her head. “The game ended. Grace left…”
I took a deep breath as guilt threatened to send me over the edge. I hadn’t thought about Grace, or how my childish behavior could affect their relationship. As jealous as I was, I didn’t want to be the reason for that.
“Is that where Jake went this morning?” I knew the answer, but I needed the confirmation. He took care of me last night because that was what he did. But today, he went to smooth over the conflict I created for him and Grace. She was his girlfriend; I was the girl he took care of out of obligation.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure...” Her eyes filled with sympathy, and I nodded, stuffing more egg in my mouth as an excuse not to speak.
It was hard to believe someone like Em would ever be in a situation like mine. In love with a man I was destined never to hold. But the way she looked at me, in spite of her beauty, made me think she understood.
After eating all my stomach would allow, I downed the rest of my coffee and set my plate in the kitchen sink. “Thanks again for everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She bumped me with her shoulder. “I expect payback one of these days. With interest.”
“I promise.” And it was a promise I was determined not to break.
The crunch of gravel mixed with my rapid pulse were the only sounds heard as I pulled in front of Rick’s house. It was different than I’d imagined. Not new and state of the art but old, rustic, and covered with brick and ivy. My shoulders began to relax—I made it in time—but then I spotted Ri
ck leaning against the back of his SUV. He stood in perfect stillness, his expression hard and unamused. We made eye contact; then he pushed from the shiny black surface and climbed into the driver’s seat.
I glanced at my phone in the center console—I was five minutes early. Why did he look so pissed? My mind flashed to the message I sent last night. Had I said something that pissed him off?
I’d put every penny I had into this opportunity—if I screwed this up…but I wouldn’t let my mind go there. That was a slippery slope I didn’t have the strength for right now. I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath, and got out of the car.
When I climbed into the passenger seat beside him, the silence in the cab was suffocating.
“Good morning,” I said, my voice harsh, and not my own.
He eyed me up and down. “Morning.”
I cleared my throat and reached for my seatbelt. “Where are we headed?”
“Downtown.” He shifted the car into drive, and we were on our way.
An hour later I stood breathless in front of the St. Dominic’s Catholic Church in downtown Los Angeles. It was beautiful. The entrance perfection all on its own. Weathered stone sculpted with ornate sophistication, a door that must have been twenty feet high and carved into a masterpiece of geometric shapes. It was humbling to stand in the presence of such art—let alone hold a camera in a place as magnificent as this.
Rick went over my instructions once again, and adrenaline pulsed through my veins. My job would be to spend the morning with the bride and her bridesmaids. He explained they’d feel more comfortable with a woman, that I’d be able to take more unguarded shots, but he looked so angry I wondered why he was giving me so much responsibility.
He rattled off a list of “must have” details, “…gown, flowers, ring, garter, shoes.” Then he turned to me and eyed me up and down once again. “Don’t screw this up, Katie.”
Details were my thing, the part of photography I loved most. I wasn’t worried about that, but Rick’s warning terrified me.
A minute later, I followed the wedding coordinator down a dark hall to the bride’s quarters and tried to push all the episodes of Bridezilla from my thoughts. This wasn’t my first wedding, but somehow working under Rick’s scrutiny made me feel as though it was. I took a deep breath and braced myself as the coordinator pushed open the door. A bride wearing a white satin robe stood in the center of the room. She looked over her shoulder, smiled, and her shoulders visibly relaxed. I knew in that moment everything would be fine.
I spent a few hours with the girls, listening to nervous chatter, as everyone got ready. Then later that afternoon, I left the bridal chambers to meet Rick in the sanctuary. Deep mahogany pews were surrounded by stained glass windows, and stone pillars framed the scarlet aisle that would lead the bride to her groom. A gasp of pleasure escaped my throat.
Fifty rows back, a staircase led to an upper-level balcony. I knew this was where I was supposed to be, so I climbed to the very top. There were no seats above, just a mahogany banister that extended across the width of the sanctuary. I took a couple of practice shots and began to panic at the vast absence of light.
“Is there a problem, Ms. McGregor?”
Rick’s cool voice startled me, and I whipped around to face my boss. “I—I just didn’t realize there would be so little light.”
His jaw tightened, and he roughly set his equipment to the ground before stalking toward me. “Fuck. I thought you knew what you were doing.”
All I could do was blink. What could I even say to that?
“Give me your camera,” he barked.
I handed it over and watched in stunned silence as he adjusted the settings, then gave it back to me.
“You can’t be serious. That shutter speed is way too low.” 1/50, way too low for the lens I was working with.
“Take a shot,” he commanded in a low voice.
I flung the camera strap around my neck and turned. My hands gripped at my sides as I gritted my teeth. I wanted to tell him he was an idiot—a jerk, but I did neither.
I felt him move behind me as I got into position. Then one of his hands snaked around my middle, while the other took the arm that held my camera and pressed it close to my body. My gut twisted. He was demonstrating how to make my body strong and still, like a human tripod. Something I’d known since I was thirteen.
“Take a deep breath, Katie,” he whispered in my ear. “That’s right. Now take the shot.” His voice was demanding, urgent, and I did as he said.
A second later, he moved away, and exhaled. What the hell was that?
“Five shots in rapid succession,” he ordered. “Exactly like that, and you’ll be fine.” He didn’t wait for me to answer, or even look at my camera before he picked up his gear and heading back down the stairs. The shots were perfection.
The rest of the ceremony and reception went off without a hitch, and I began to question whether my uneasiness on the balcony was an overreaction. Rick was gruff and demanding, but he knew what he was doing. His ways weren’t what I was used to, but this was different than any other job I’d ever had. He wasn’t an office with human resources and a break room. I was working for an artist, one who was brilliant and looked up to by his peers. Did it really matter that he barked orders and crossed boundaries? I had the opportunity to learn from him, and I needed to shut up and deal with it.
We made it back to Rick’s house at just after eleven, and I was completely exhausted. A wedding would do that regardless, but I hadn’t started the day in the best shape in the first place. He invited me inside while he backed up my images, but I told him I needed to make a phone call, and sat in my car. The truth was, even though I resolved to work with him, the thought of being alone with him in his house made my stomach turn.
“You did good today, Ms. McGregor,” he said, as he handed me my camera through my car door.
“Thank you. I had a lot of fun.” Which was the truth. I was able to escape from my own life for a moment, and nothing could’ve been better than that today.
“Good, because I’ll have another job for you in two weeks.”
“Yes—yes of course.” A thrill ran through me, and I sat straight up in my seat.
“It’s a weekend job, and will pay double the thousand I’m paying you tonight. We leave Friday afternoon, and won’t come back until Sunday. Does that work for you?”
My pulse quickened. This was great news, though I couldn’t help but worry about being alone with him for that long. “Yes, of course,” I stammered out.
“Good.” He handed me a manila envelope I could feel was thick with cash. “I’ll be in touch.”
A thousand dollars? We’d never talked about money, but this was double what I was expecting. When I pulled away from the curb, I realized that in two weeks’ time I would have enough money to move out of Jake’s house, to live on my own, and finally get settled. I wouldn’t be a burden to anyone; I’d have no one to call when I’d be home late or to yell at me when I forgot. Jake would have his life back, and I would no longer be a burden. The thought should’ve made me happy, but the feeling that settled inside me was anything but.
When I pulled in front of the house, the lights were still on, and a lump formed in my throat. Jake was home and waiting for me. I wanted to see him, but didn’t want to at the same time. I wished we could just forget about last night and go back to how things were at the beach. But life was never easy like that, and I knew I had to face him.
After depositing my gear in my room, I slipped off my shoes and found him on the back deck. The small lights that streamed across the patio reminded me of fireflies in the darkness, and a hint of chlorine and freshly cut grass lingered in the air. It felt like the hot summer nights we spent under the stars, lying on the concrete cooled by the night’s sky, and dreaming of all the things we’d do when we grew up.
Jake sat on a stool by the bar, his back to me as he strummed his old guitar. I recognized the song he played. “Stand by Me,�
� the anthem of my teen years. The song we sang around campfires after Dad passed, a vow between Dave, Jake, and me that we’d always be there for one another—even if no one else was.
Then Jake began to sing. The deep baritone I hadn’t heard in years. The lyrics of pain, sorrow, and hope—so quiet I had to strain to hear. I wanted to move closer, to see his face, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment. I didn’t know why, but I needed this.
I leaned against the door, closed my eyes, and let it all soak in. The peacefulness of the yard, the cool breeze that swept away the long day, and the sound of Jake’s voice. A sinking feeling settled inside. This was one of the last days I’d be alone with him. In two weeks I’d be gone—it wouldn’t be the same.
When I opened my eyes a minute later, Jake was watching me, and the music stopped.
My heart clenched, but I didn’t move. Neither did he. He just sat there, his eyes penetrating mine as I searched for something to say.
He placed his guitar to the ground, stood, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “My shuttle will be here in a few minutes.” His voice was deep, his eyes intense, and I nodded. I’d forgotten he was leaving. I didn’t want him to.
Then he swallowed, and took a step closer. “I’ve been thinking a lot the last couple days…” Something about the way he looked at me made it difficult to breathe. “We’ve been through a lot together, you and I.”
Emotions stirred in my belly and I chewed my bottom lip. It was true. We’d been through so much.
He stepped forward and searched my face. “You’re a huge part of who I am, Katie, I want to you know that.”
My throat tightened and I couldn’t speak.
“When you came home—” He stopped, his eyes drifting to his feet before his next words. “You’re one of the only people who’ve ever mattered to me in my life.”
My eyes were locked on him, but I remained silent. Not wanting to interrupt, not knowing what to say if I did.
“When Dave and I landed our first construction job, you were the only one who was proud of me. I can still remember you jumping up and down in that old house.” He laughed under his breath. “Your opinion was all I cared about. Not my parents, not my buddies at the office…”
Home to You Page 15