by Merry Farmer
Jogi prayed the flush that came to his face wasn’t as obvious as he feared it was. “No, man.” He shook his head. “That ship has definitely sailed, and I wasn’t on it.” No, he’d jumped overboard at the first sign of rough seas.
Quintus sagged back into his chair, shaking his head. “You’re making a huge mistake by not going after her. Sandy Templesmith is a fox.”
Jogi tried to smile at the adolescent comment. If only the kid knew. Sandy was no fox, she was more like a wolf. One whose jaws he’d narrowly escaped.
Chapter Five
Two months ago…
The auditorium in Haskell’s town hall was packed, both with PSF employees and Haskellians who had participated in the orienteering event, and everyone else from the surrounding area who didn’t want to miss one of Howie’s events. Jogi strolled into the room from the back, hands in his pockets, glancing casually around at the swiftly-filling seats. How he still had energy after the day he’d spent with Sandy was beyond him, but there he was, adrenaline pumping, eager to find out who had won the photography portion of the competition.
On the stage at the front of the auditorium, Howie stood talking to a group of people who had to be the representatives from the National Park Service. A giant screen hung behind them with the emblem of Shoshone National Park on it. Jogi only gave it a passing glance before scanning the seats, looking for Sandy.
He still didn’t understand why the two of them couldn’t have shown up at the event together. It wasn’t like he hadn’t asked about the possibility.
“What does it matter?” Sandy had answered his inquiry as the two of them cleaned up post-afternoon delight. “We’re going to sit together.”
He hadn’t liked the way she couldn’t quite meet his eyes or the tense lines of her face.
“You have told your friends that we’re dating, right?” he’d pressed her.
“Have you?” she answered, slipping into a soft, honey-colored shirt that made her complexion glow.
Jogi couldn’t think of the right way to reply. He zipped his jeans and ran his fingers through his hair, troubled by the hesitation he hadn’t been able to shake. “It hasn’t come up,” he’d mumbled.
The lame answer had satisfied Sandy, but even that didn’t feel right. Deception didn’t come naturally to Jogi, and the whole month-long relationship smacked of deception to him.
He finally spotted Sandy, waving to him from near the front of the room. The entire row where she sat was taken up by their friends, from the Clutterbuck sisters to Hero and Denise Yamaguchi at the end. Jogi’s heart flopped around his chest, then landed in his gut with an uncomfortable twist as he started down the aisle. Every part of him wanted to be with Sandy, not just in bed. He had just as much fun talking to her or just hanging out. But she was hiding something from him. He would have put hard money on that.
She was hiding something from him and hiding him from her friends. Well, one way or another, he’d made up his mind that the hiding was going to stop that night.
“Hey, Jogi,” Laura greeted him as he reached Sandy’s row. She hopped up and scooted over a few seats. “Here, you can sit next to Sandy.”
“Thanks. Hi, guys.” He waved to the rest of his friends, who were sitting in the same row. They waved back, and he took his seat. The same pulsing excitement he felt every time he was close to Sandy spilled through him as he turned to smile at her. “Hello.”
“Hi,” she answered, affection bright in her expression. She reached out to take his hand and squeeze it.
Down low, where the others couldn’t see unless they were looking.
Sandy must have seen his frustration. “What?” she asked, some of the flirtatiousness leaving her eyes.
Jogi took a breath, lifting their joined hands to rest on his leg. “Don’t you think it’s time we made this public?”
A split-second of fear pinched her expression before she smiled. “Baby, after tonight, I’m gonna want the whole world to know you’re my man.”
He should have been relieved. That was exactly what he wanted. Everything above-board, no more dating in secret. But not one of his tense muscles relaxed.
“What’s so special about tonight?” he asked, on the alert.
Sandy just grinned, mischief crinkling her eyes, and shrugged. “You never know where the night will take you.”
He forced himself to take a breath, telling himself he was jumping at shadows. Nothing had ever been said between them about keeping their relationship a secret, they just hadn’t gone around broadcasting that they were together. In fact, this was the first time they’d really had a chance to be in a larger group of their friends. Everybody always ragged him about being too sensitive, and now he was beginning to believe it.
He shifted in his seat, relaxing and telling himself to enjoy the night. Sandy let go of his hand to wave at Ted Flint. She didn’t take his hand again when she was done.
“He’s so cute,” Laura whispered at Jogi’s other side.
Glad to have something else to focus on, Jogi said, “Who, Ted?”
Laura blushed. “I didn’t say that aloud.”
At last, a genuine grin came to Jogi’s face. He spent the next five minutes ragging on Laura about Ted and all the other guys she could be dating. He wouldn’t normally have engaged in a conversation about who liked who—conversations like that held zero interest to him—but it was a relief to have something else to think about, to blend in with the rest of the group.
By the time the lights flashed, prompting everyone to take their seats, Jogi was as close to being at ease in the crowded room as he ever would be.
“I’m excited,” Sandy whispered in his ear.
“About what?” he whispered back, enjoying the chance to slide even closer to her in the darkening room.
She sent him an impish grin. “You’ll see.”
Suspicion curled through Jogi, but he didn’t have time to give it any more thought.
“Ladies and gentlemen, could I have your attention please,” Howie spoke from the stage. The lights had dimmed enough so that focus naturally shifted to him, but the rest of the room wasn’t completely dark. Jogi could see clearly the eager anticipation on Sandy’s face, like waiting for Christmas morning. “I don’t want to keep you all in suspense,” Howie went on. “Especially since the presentation part of our evening is only half of the night’s entertainment. We’ll announce the winner of the orienteering photo competition, and then we’ll all move on to the banquet I have waiting next door at the Cattleman Hotel.”
The audience laughed and applauded, giving Howie exactly the kind of attention he loved. Jogi settled back, his curiosity about who might have won the photography competition warring with his growing hunger.
“So let’s get started,” Howie continued. “And here to announce the runners-up and contest winner are John Garfield and Hannah Jefferson from the National Park Service.”
The program moved along smoothly and quickly. The NPS representatives weren’t as charismatic as Howie, but few people were. They did an admirable job working their way through five runner-up photographs of everything from the view from the top of the mountains where they’d been dropped, to a gorgeous shot of a fawn that had been taken by one of the PSF administrators. Jogi made a mental note to go find her to see if she had any opinions on cameras.
“And now for our grand prize winner,” Howie announced, sending an excited ripple over the crowd.
Sandy reached for Jogi’s hand, squeezing it. She wore a dazzling smile as she watched Howie. The uncomfortable feeling that something wasn’t adding up struck Jogi again.
“As you know, our grand prize winner will not only have their photograph featured in the National Park Service’s promotional material, they win an all-expense paid trip to the National Park of their choice.”
A spattering of applause sounded. Sandy tightened her hold on Jogi’s hand.
“And now for the winner,” Howie went on. The lights lowered further and the screen
on stage went enticingly blank. “Congratulations to….”
The image flashed onto the screen. Jogi’s heart dropped into freefall. It was the picture he’d taken of Sandy looking out over the vast view of the mountains, the sunlight dancing on her face and shoulders.
“…Joginder Sandhu!” Howie finished.
The room burst into applause. Down the row, his friends gasped and clapped and congratulated him. Shock had him frozen for the first few seconds, but as the initial wave ebbed, fury took its place.
He turned to Sandy, the sting of betrayal closing his throat and causing him to clench his jaw. She beamed back at him with pride and self-satisfaction. “See,” she said. “I told you you’d win the competition.”
He wrenched his hand out of hers. “I didn’t enter the competition,” he hissed. “I told you I wasn’t interested, I didn’t want to.”
Sandy’s satisfied joy faltered. “But you won. I knew you could.”
“I specifically said that I was not going to enter the competition,” he told her, hurt spreading through him. “You went behind my back.”
“You needed a push,” she said, but her confidence was gone.
Jogi shook his head and stood. He edged his way out into the aisle. He had every intention of marching right out of the room, but the applause swelled, and Howie called from the stage, “Come on up here and accept your prize, Jogi.”
It took every ounce of will he had to put on a smile. Howie, his friends, everyone in the room, would be disappointed if he didn’t act like he was thrilled to have won. His face burned with anger as he walked to the stairs leading up to the stage. Blood pounded through him with enough intensity to make him dizzy as he crossed the stage to accept a certificate from the NPS representatives and to shake their hands. The applause rang hollow in his ears.
“Come on, time to make a speech.” Howie gestured to him, handing him the microphone he’d been using.
Jogi stared at the microphone. He glanced out over the audience. His gaze fell on Sandy. Her smile was completely gone now, her eyes round and wary. It surprised Jogi how badly her betrayal hurt.
“Thank you,” he said into the microphone. “I don’t know what to say.” He paused. How could he calmly accept an award for something he’d been pushed into, something he hadn’t wanted? His silence dragged on until an awkward buzz filled the room. “No, really, I can’t think of anything to say,” he tried to joke. “Thank you,” he repeated, then handed the microphone to Howie.
Applause swelled again, but the blood rushing through Jogi’s ears made it hard for him to hear. He shook Howie’s hand, then fled from the stage as fast as he could, not looking at the screen that blasted his photograph of Sandy and the mountains. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to look at it again. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to look at the original again either. With his prize certificate clutched in one hand and his stomach in knots, he blew right past the row where Sandy looked hopefully up at him and marched out of the room.
She’d screwed up. Badly. Beyond badly. She knew it the second she saw the horror in Jogi’s eyes as he was pronounced the winner. Not once in all the scenarios she’d played out in her mind had Jogi been angry about winning. Not once. Because she hadn’t dared to let herself accept the truth of what she’d done.
She accepted it now, accepted that she was a damn fool.
“Jogi,” she murmured as he stormed past her seat to leave the auditorium. “Jogi.”
She stood clumsily, stumbling into the aisle and following him out of the auditorium.
“Looks like Jogi’s orienteering partner might have something to say about where he takes his free vacation,” Howie joked from the stage.
The audience laughed. Sandy ignored them and picked up her pace.
“Jogi!” she called out as she reached the hall. The contrast of the hall’s bright, fluorescent light as she came out of the darkened auditorium hurt her eyes, but not as much as panic hurt her chest. Jogi didn’t stop. He kept marching toward the town hall’s front door. “Jogi, stop!”
Sandy cursed her heels as she rushed to catch up with him. She was convinced that Jogi had no intention of stopping, that he was going to walk out of the town hall and out of her life without another word
At last, as they reached the lobby, he stopped and spun to face her.
“How could you do that?” he demanded. “I told you I wasn’t interested in entering the contest. How could you go ahead and enter my photograph anyhow?”
“Because I believe in you,” she said, far more desperate than she liked to be. “I knew you could win.”
“I didn’t want to win,” he told her, eyes flaring with anger. “I didn’t want to enter.”
“But you have this amazing talent, Jogi. You need to embrace it, do something with it.”
“I am doing something with it,” he argued. “I’m developing it.”
“I know. And this contest was the perfect opportunity for you to shine.” She couldn’t fathom why he didn’t understand. She’d helped him.
“It wasn’t up to you to decide what opportunities I should take,” he continued to fume.
“But you weren’t taking them on your own.” Why couldn’t he understand?
“That is my decision.” He took a step toward her, bringing the full force of his anger that much closer. She took a half step back. “I don’t need you controlling my life.”
“I’m not controlling your life,” she insisted. “I’m just trying to give you a little more confidence in yourself. I’m helping you to see that you’ve got what it takes to be great.”
“And is that why you don’t want any of our friends to know we’re together?”
His question sent sizzling guilt through her, as if she’d been electrocuted. “I don’t care who knows we’re together.”
She couldn’t meet his eyes as she said it. She couldn’t explain why she’d been holding back either. Except that she’d known for weeks that she shouldn’t have entered his photograph in the competition without his permission. She knew she’d overstepped her bounds. And she knew he’d react this way. Deep down inside, she knew they were doomed.
“I’m done.”
His hard, calm words left her struggling for breath. “What?”
“I’m done,” he repeated, calmer still.
The ache in her chest morphed from a dull presence in the background into an explosion. “I’m sorry, Jogi. I know I was wrong. I should have talked to you about entering the contest.”
“You did, and I said no,” he reminded her.
She licked her lips and tried to swallow. “But you have such talent. I couldn’t just stand by and let it go to waste.”
“Just because I didn’t enter the contest didn’t mean I’m wasting my talent.” Frustration poured off of him, and he took another step toward her.
“I was only trying to help, to support you. I believe in you,” her voice grew weaker and weaker as she made her excuses.
“I don’t need that kind of help,” he insisted. “My whole life, everything has been handed to me. Education, scholarships, cars, jobs. Whether it was my parents giving me things or friends setting me up with interviews, I’ve never had to work for anything on my own. I hate that. I’ve always hated it. For once, I just wanted to accomplish something on my own. You robbed me of that.”
Tears stung at Sandy’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t ask,” he said crumpling the prize certificate as he bunched his hand into a fist. “You just pushed. We’ve only barely gotten to know one another. This whole thing moved way too fast. Not once did you stop to ask what I wanted, you just told me where you thought I should go.”
“I just thought…” she whispered, pressing her lips tight to avoid pushing him any further.
“For the past few weeks, I’ve let you lead me wherever you wanted to go,” he went on. “I wasn’t comfortable with it, but I hoped once we got to know each other better, it would work out.”
“You could have told me.”
“Was it my responsibility to tell you everything? You could have gotten to know me instead of forcing me to be who you thought I should be.”
“I didn’t try to—”
He held up a hand to stop her, and Sandy flinched.
“I can’t listen to this right now,” he said, his voice exhausted. His whole body sagged, and he lowered his eyes. “I can’t talk about it. I need to think.”’
“Think?”
He met her eyes again. “Yes, think. About us, about you, about a lot of things.”
“Are….” She swallowed. “Are you breaking up with me?”
He waited a long time, watching her with a veiled expression, before saying, “Were we ever really together to begin with?”
A sharp twist of guilt hit her. If she were honest, she didn’t know.
She didn’t answer.
Jogi let out a defeated breath and shook his head. Down the hall, a swell of noise sounded. The presentation was over, and people were leaving. Dread filled Sandy, and she turned to glance over her shoulder, waiting for an entire crowd to stumble on what might qualify as the worst night of her life.
“Good night, Sandy.”
She snapped back to stare at him, eyes wide. “You’re leaving?”
“Well, I’m not staying for that.” He pointed past her to the hall, the din getting louder.
He didn’t wait. Before anyone from the presentation reached the lobby, he turned and strode off at a fast clip.
“Jogi,” she called, taking a step after him. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
He raised a hand, his back toward her. She couldn’t tell if it was a wave goodbye or a dismissive swipe. She wasn’t sure it mattered. Everything was over, and she had no one but herself to blame.
Chapter Six
Present Day…
“Sweetheart, I understand your concern,” Wainright Templesmith told his daughter, rubbing his temples as he did, “but what’s done is done. The board has already called for an election, as is their right.”