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Home to You Page 18

by Taylor Sullivan


  “Ms. McGregor, you did great. We have a positive ID from two other women. We have a case with or without your identification.”

  He continued to give us information about what would happen next. The assailants would be taken into custody, arraigned; then a date would be set for their trial. I was told to prepare myself for the possibility of having to testify, but due to the fact I couldn’t make a positive ID, it might not be necessary.

  When we made it back to Jake’s house it was nearly six, and a catering truck was parked in the driveway.

  Jake’s shoulders sank as he pulled along the curb. “Shit.”

  “Your party…” I said in a low, distant voice.

  He hopped out of the truck and walked around to open my door. “We’re canceling it.”

  As much as I wanted that, it wouldn’t be possible. “People will be showing up in two hours. There’s no way you could contact them all in time.” I climbed out of the car and began to make my way to the front gate.

  He grabbed my arm and spun me around. “Why didn’t you call me, Katie?” His voice was deep with emotion, his eyes hard and searching.

  “It all happened so fast... I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “You didn’t want to bother me? You were attacked in my home, and you didn’t want to bother me?”

  “Jake—”

  A man dressed in a culinary jacket and carrying a clipboard approached us. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but are you Katie McGregor? I’m from Banquet Catering, and we’re supposed to be setting up.”

  I looked back at Jake, seeing all the questions in his eyes, having a million of my own, but knowing that soon the house would be swarmed with people. I couldn’t do this now. Not like this.

  I turned to the caterer and nodded. “Please, right this way.”

  BY THE TIME I’D SHOWN the caterer where to set up, the decorating company was at the front door. At least ten men began trampling back and forth to the backyard, carrying large poles and fabric, shouting orders, and all I kept wondering was where Grace and Gigi were.

  “Can you sign here, ma’am?” one said, shoving a digital pad in front of me.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “The contract for the tent. We need a signature before we can begin installation.”

  “A tent?” Grace said nothing about a tent.

  “Yes. Because of the rain.”

  He pointed to the sky with the stylus, and for the first time that day, I noticed the ominous clouds. Even the weather had sensed my doom and decided to watch the show.

  As soon as I signed the little box, the man began barking orders to his crew, and in just over an hour the tent ran from the back door all the way to the pool. White organza cascaded from the ceiling in a swag, then down the sides fastened in bundles of elegant, draping fabric. The lanterns Grace spoke of were hung across the ceiling and reminded me of something you’d see at a wedding, not a man’s thirtieth birthday party.

  Chairs and cocktail tables were brought in, arranged around the edges of the tent, and covered in dark cloth. I spun around in a daze, seeing but not really observing my surroundings—with the exception of one thing. Jake was nowhere to be found. A part of me ached to know what he thought of all this, to know if he was still upset with me about not telling him about the break-in, but the other part was thankful he couldn’t see my face. The ordeal at the station had shaken me, and I didn’t have the strength for such a serious conversation now.

  Questions pulled me from one direction to the other. Questions I didn’t know the answers to. Where the hell was Grace? And why had she left me in charge of this?

  “Hey,” John called to me as I finished up with the caterer. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

  “What?” I spun around, glancing down at my cut offs and T-shirt. “What time is it?”

  “Quarter to eight.”

  “Shit. I don’t even know what I’m going to wear.”

  I tried to brush past him, but his voice stopped me. “Did you talk to Jake?”

  I shook my head.

  “I passed him in the garage. Go talk to him. Before people start showing up.”

  “I can’t.” My throat thickened.

  “Why?”

  I could feel his stare, but I wouldn’t look at him. “Because hearing things out loud makes them real.” He had no idea what I was talking about, probably thought I was nuts, but I didn’t wait for a response—I crossed the short distance to the house and almost ran to the seclusion of my bathroom.

  With a heavy heart, I braced myself against the vanity and stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I was a mess. My hair had fallen from the ponytail, my eyes were puffy and tired. A knock came at my bedroom door but I ignored it. I needed to pull myself together and tame the emotions that threatened to spill over the edge. I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on my face over and over hoping for clarity.

  I heard the clamor of happy voices a few minutes later and realized guests had already begun to arrive. I wasn’t ready for this. I couldn’t face all these people I didn’t know and pretend I wasn’t on the verge of cardiac arrest. Jake was right; I wasn’t that good of an actress. I wore my heart on my sleeve, and right now it was held together by fragile silk thread.

  There was another knock, followed by Em’s voice. “Katie, are you in there?”

  With one last glance at my lifeless reflection, I pushed myself off the counter, wiped my face with a towel, and unlocked the door.

  Em slid through the opening, her hair sleek and smooth, looking perfectly elegant wearing a black cocktail gown. “Why aren’t you dressed?” she asked, taking me in.

  “I’m not going out there. I don’t even know those people.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Here.” She handed me her glass of wine, nodded for me to drink, and opened my closet.

  “What happened?” She eyed me curiously before continuing her search for something suitable for me to wear.

  “A really long day.” A really long week. A really long life.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Could I tell her? Confide in her about Jake, our kiss, Grace, my failure at the station, and the fact Jake was mad I hadn’t told him about the break-in? I knew that if I started, the fragile wall I’d built around myself would begin to crumble, and it would only take one little stone to shift for everything inside to fall apart.

  I threw back the contents of the wine glass. “No.”

  She laughed, then pulled out the little black dress I’d purchased the day we went shopping. The perfect one. The one for a day I wanted to remember—not tonight.

  I shook my head, and her brows furrowed, but she shrugged it off and grabbed another. A strapless coral empire dress I’d once worn to a wedding.

  “Put that on,” she said, tossing it to the foot of my bed.

  Within a few minutes I was dressed in the coral fabric that draped to mid thigh. Em did my makeup, flat-ironed my hair so it hung straight down the middle of my back, and I slipped a gold bangle onto my wrist. It was a simple dress, but it made me feel feminine and beautiful. I needed that if I was going to go out there tonight.

  Em gripped my shoulders. “You look amazing. Who cares about those people? You stick with me, and we’ll have a good time.”

  A smile turned my lips, not quite meeting my eyes, and I nodded.

  “Come find me when you’re ready.”

  When she left the room, I sat on the edge of my bed and slipped on a pair of gold flats. It wasn’t “all those people” I was worried about. In fact, I was only worried about one of them. I just needed the evening to end so I could talk to him.

  When I made it to the backyard, it was just past eight thirty, and at least fifty people already filled the tent. Music came from the speakers, mixed with the sounds of rainfall and people having a good time. I scanned over the guests chatting happily around cocktail tables, drinks in every hand, and caterers passing out appetizers from silver platters. My eyes immedi
ately locked on Jake—as if they didn’t have a choice. My whole existence was drawn to him. My body, soul, and mind hunted him, craved him as though he was crucial for my survival. He stood with a group of people toward the back, wearing black slacks that hugged his muscular thighs and a white linen shirt left open at the throat. I wasn’t used to seeing him like that. Clean-shaven, hair tamed…the sight of him took my breath away.

  Then Grace approached him in a skintight red dress. The kind that molded to every curve, showed every flaw, but Grace didn’t have any. Her stomach was completely flat, her hips adding the perfect amount of flair, breasts full and halfway exposed. She stopped when she reached his side, and ran a hand seductively down his arm.

  I closed my eyes. She only touched his arm. That didn’t mean anything. I swallowed back the bitter taste in my throat and turned to find a waiter standing behind me offering some kind of dumpling. I shook him off and shuffled my way through the crowd, finding Em and John standing in line at the bar.

  John was laughing at something Em said and did a double take as I approached. “Holy shit, Katie. You look gorgeous.” He eyed me up and down and grinned.

  “Thank you.” I forced a smile and joined them in line. “Do you know many of these people?”

  He shook his head. “No. Though it doesn’t surprise me. I think this was more a ploy for Grace to impress her boss more than anything.”

  Em hit him in the arm. “Shh. Someone will hear you.” She turned to me. “Katie, what do you want to drink?”

  “Chardonnay,” I replied.

  “Two glasses of Chardonnay, a Sam Adams, and three shots of Patron,” Em said to the bartender, then turned and raised her brows at me and John.

  “Oh no, I can’t,” I interjected.

  “Sure you can,” she responded with a wink.

  “Jake told me about your time at the station today,” John said, his forehead wrinkled with what I knew was disapproval. I was supposed to tell Jake about the break-in yesterday. “He was pretty upset.”

  “Wait, what happened?” Em asked.

  The attack was the last thing on my mind. I didn’t want to talk about it, but Em looked concerned, and I tried to conjure up an answer.

  “They caught Katie’s attackers,” Jake said from behind me, and my whole body stiffened at the sound of his voice. His arm brushed mine, and I let out a breath.

  “Wow, Katie. No wonder you were on edge earlier,” Em replied.

  “So was I the only one who didn’t know?” Jake raised his eyebrows then looked from Em to John.

  “Hey man, happy birthday,” John replied, and smacked him on the back. “How was the conference?”

  “Conference went well,” Jake muttered, then spoke quietly in my ear. “But had I known you were in danger in any way, I would have caught the first flight home.”

  His words left me breathless, and I had to fight against turning into his arms. I needed him, we needed to talk—

  “Jake, what do you want to drink?” Em asked.

  He stared at me a beat before answering. “Sam Adams.”

  I swallowed.

  His arm brushed mine again. A soft sigh of a touch that would’ve gone unnoticed from anyone else. But my whole body was aware of him in a way I’d never felt with another man. Had it been deliberate? Did he crave my touch as much as I did his?

  He stood so close I could see the smooth texture of his shaven face, and I wanted so badly to run my fingers across his cheek. To feel its warmth under my fingertips. The faint smell of his spicy aftershave filled my nose, causing a sweet ache to settle between my hips. I don’t know what it was about him, but I wanted to bury myself in his neck and inhale until I was lost.

  Suddenly Grace approached with a whole group of people I didn’t know. She stopped on his other side and laced her arm possessively through his. “Happy birthday, baby.”

  At that moment, Em handed me the shot of tequila, and what seemed like a bad idea just a moment ago now felt like Superman had swooped down to save me. I tossed the drink to the back of my throat and swallowed the whole thing in one gulp.

  I needed air. I grabbed my glass of wine off the bar and made my way to the edge of the tent where I spotted an open table.

  I climbed on one of the high seats and crossed my legs. What was I even doing? I was holding on by a thread of hope, and if I wasn’t careful, I’d have to enroll in AA. My finger ran along the bowl of my wineglass, transfixed by the play of light the lanterns cast through its translucent surface.

  When the light disappeared, I looked up to see a man standing in front of me. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know this table was taken.” I hopped from the stool and grabbed my glass.

  “Don’t go,” he said in a rush. Then pinched the bridge of his nose and smiled. “I’ve just been trying to work up the nerve to come talk to you, and I finally found you alone.”

  I grinned in spite of myself and glanced over at Jake. Grace still stood by his side by the bar, but his back was to me, and I couldn’t see his face.

  He followed my gaze. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Oh no, I’m fine.” I held up my full wineglass, then took a small sip.

  His shoulders relaxed. “I’m Chris.”

  I nodded. “Katie.”

  “How do you know the birthday boy?” he asked, swirling a glass of brown alcohol.

  “We grew up together.” But that wasn’t all he was to me. The description didn’t even come close to what he was to me. He was the man I loved with all my heart. The only person in my life besides Mom who remembered Dad and my brother. There was something so comforting about that. Knowing you held the same memories as someone else—the thought of losing him split my heart in two.

  Chris went on to say something about Grace and real estate, but I wasn’t really listening. He was attractive enough. Well-dressed, dark hair, and a nice build. I had no doubt women found him appealing, but my eyes kept traveling over to Jake, and I wondered how much more of this I’d be able to endure.

  I took another sip of wine and focused in on what Chris was saying. “...flip houses. It’s a gamble, but it’s paid off so far. What do you do, Katie?”

  “Photography.” I glanced over at Jake again, this time to find him watching. My heart squeezed, and I looked back at Chris. “I’m just getting into the wedding market here in LA,” I said, clearing my throat.

  “Oh, really? My sister’s getting married next spring. I should get your information.”

  He gave me his phone, and as I was entering in my information, John came to stand by my side. “Katie, can I borrow you for a second?”

  My brows furrowed, and I excused myself, following John to the other side of the tent.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked when we were alone.

  “Yeah, I just thought Jake was going to lose it,” he said, taking a pull from his beer.

  “What?” But I understood all too well. It was because I was talking to Chris. I looked over at Jake a few feet away, and our eyes met. It was okay for me to have to watch Grace on his arm all night, but the minute another man talked to me, his friend was sent to run interference.

  I turned away to see Grace walking in our direction. A man with salt-and-pepper hair by her side.

  “Jake, you remember my boss, Peter. Peter, this is my boyfriend, Jake.”

  All the air pushed painfully from my lungs. Jake shook the man’s hand, then scanned from Peter’s eyes to mine. Time stopped as my suspicions were finally confirmed, and his ocean-blue eyes penetrated my soul.

  I shifted my eyes to the floor, trying to pull in a breath as everything around me began to echo. I couldn’t stay here. Placing my drink on a nearby table, I began to push my way through hordes of people, waving off caterers with trays of food.

  John caught up with me and grabbed my hand. “Are you okay?” He turned me around and lifted my face. “If Jake doesn’t see what’s in front of him, he’s an idiot.”

  I nodded, but then a warm hand came arou
nd to cup my elbow. “Can I talk to you?” Jake’s breath caught my cheek, and my senses were filled only with him.

  But I couldn’t do it. Not like this. Not with Grace under the same roof. Not when everything I thought I knew was ripped from under me with a single jerk. “I can’t.”

  “Katie.” His tortured voice gripped that part of me deep down, and twisted.

  A group of people appeared at the door. They called to Jake, wished him a happy birthday, then pulled him toward the bar.

  I turned back to John, shaking my head while my eyes burned with unshed tears. I was weak. I couldn’t do this. I made it the few yards to the kitchen and didn’t stop until I was in the front yard.

  Toeing off my shoes, I filled my lungs with the sweet taste of a summer storm, and with one foot in front of the other, I pushed through the gate, passed the valet, and began to run. I had no idea where I was going or what I would do when I got there. All I knew was that I needed to get away. I needed to put distance between myself and the source of my betrayal.

  Huge drops of rain began to fall, mixed with the salt of bitter tears. Tears of anguish, hurt, and unrequited love.

  Fat, hard pelts hit my face as though the sky wept along with me, and my feet slammed hard against the pavement again and again. I didn’t stop, didn’t even slow until I made it to the park a few blocks away.

  I crumpled to my knees on the wet lawn, sucking in air like I’d held my breath the whole way, and let the rain wash over me. I didn’t want to think, didn’t want to feel. I just wanted to be. To exist for a moment, and let some of my tension disappear into the ground with the rain.

  THE STORM HAD SETTLED TO a delicate drizzle by the time I made it back to the house. From the sidewalk I could see that everyone had gone. The street that an hour ago was littered with cars was now completely empty, and the sound of the party no longer filtered into the night air. I took a deep breath and walked up the driveway.

  Jake sat on the front steps and my heart stopped. His white shirt was plastered to his muscular form, his brown hair dripping and face intense. He leaned forward on his knees, watching me, and I forced myself to unlatch the gate.

 

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