Chapter 5

It wasn’t until the next morning that I saw Evan. I had no idea when he snuck in, but it was well after I was sound asleep. I wasn’t sure if he had been working or studying or . . . well, I just didn’t know, but I was happy to see him.

I gently moved from under the covers, trying not to disturb him. He probably had a full day ahead of him and needed as much sleep as possible.

I tiptoed to the dresser and slowly slid the drawer open.

“Do you know,” Evan mumbled, “I always wake up happy when I’m here.”

I glanced over at him as my stomach fluttered. “I always wake up happy when you’re here.”

A dreamy smile appeared. “Come back to bed and I’ll make you even happier.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Not when you’re around.”

I could feel the start of a blush creeping up my neck. “When did you get in last night?”

“I think about four,” he said, propping his head up to look at me. “Are you going to come back to bed or am I going to have to come and get you?”

“Go back to sleep. You’ve only had a few hours.”

“I don’t need sleep. I need you.”

The blush reached my ears. “You need sleep,” I repeated.

Evan fell back into the pillow. “I’d come and get you, but I think you’re right.”

I crossed over to the bed and bent over to give him a kiss good-night. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“Come and snuggle a bit,” he said, wrapping his arm around my legs.

“I should really . . .”

“Please.”

I brushed a dark lock of hair from his crystal-blue eyes, thinking he had an unfair advantage. He could request anything, and with one look into his eyes, I would cave.

So, I did.

I crawled under the blanket and slid next to Evan and into his arms. He pressed a kiss against my temple.

“Night, sugar.”

Nearly as soon as I said my good-night to him, he nodded off. I felt the movement of his chest rising and falling in heavy sleep. I chuckled quietly as I slowly untwined myself from his arms and slipped out of bed.

I took clothes from the drawer and tiptoed out of the room, silently closing the door behind me. As I showered, I made a list of everything I needed to do. One of those things was to meet up with the ladies later today to pick up my security uniform. I hadn’t heard any squabbling about the uniforms after that day with the samples, so all must have been decided on amicably.

The other thing . . . I let out a long and very audible sigh. I had to go through the stack of papers downstairs and calculate how much I owed Brett. And I needed to make arrangements. He said everything was taken care of, but . . .

I shook my head and took a deep breath. Everything was going to be fine. It’s not that big of a deal.

Shutting off the water, I quickly dried myself off and tossed on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. After a glance in the mirror, I deemed myself adequate enough to at least look at bills, if nothing else.

A few minutes later, I was sitting at the kitchen table sorting the mountain of papers into smaller, manageable stacks.

Why would he pay my bills? I questioned as I tallied my debt.

I knew why. It made me want to sing and cry at the same time.

Why wouldn’t he call and at least tell me he was doing this?

My fingers stumbled on the white envelope. I took it and dropped it into my purse. I would need it there anyway. And, it’s best if Evan doesn’t have to see it again. I’m glad that he understands, but it’s still a sore spot. I don’t want to poke at it.

What’s this?

I spied an envelope I hadn’t seen before. Glancing at the return address, I knew right away it was the paper Evan had been looking for.

Harvard Medical School Admissions Office.

Damn.

The envelope had already been opened. I had no qualms about reading the letter inside because I already knew what I was going to find. No one keeps a letter from an admissions office if his application was rejected.

And, it was on my kitchen table.

After a quick glance at the stairs, I slipped the letter out. A rushing sound filled my ears as I unfolded the letter.

 

Dear Mr. Evan West,

 

Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you . . .

 

That’s when I stopped reading. It didn’t matter what the rest of the letter said. Even though I knew the letter was an acceptance letter before I read it, it didn’t make the sting any less painful.

I tucked the letter back into the envelope and slipped it into his backpack, brushing a stray tear away as I resumed my task. Let him think it was in his backpack the whole time. Our relationship was too new to discuss future plans, and he must have applied a while ago.

Evan can tell me if he wants to. But I won’t initiate it. I didn’t want to add a wobble in our relationship. If he’s planning to move to . . . where the hell is Harvard? Well, wherever he’s going to move to, it will be soon. And whatever relationship we had will be over.

So much for a discussion.

Damn.

 

* * *

 

“Hi,” I said hesitantly. I wasn’t sure why I was here, but I had to get out of the house and I didn’t have to work until later. T’s seemed like a neutral place to be and, without the ladies, it was quiet.

T’s eyes swept past me and then eventually returned. His large body filled the doorframe, blocking my entrance. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

He scratched his jaw. “Why are you here?”

“Can’t I say hi?”

“You said hi, and you’re still standing here.”

“Not very hospitable, are you?”

“Not when you show up without a reason.”

A reason . . .

“Can I shoot at the range again?” I asked.

After yesterday’s debacle with Mrs. Janowski and the AR-15 magazine-fed semi-automatic rifle that had the kick of a ninja kangaroo, I had no desire to head back to the firing range. But, as far as reasons go, I really didn’t have a good selection to choose from.

“Aren’t you a little sore from yesterday?” he asked.

My lips pinched together. “I only fell once.”

“Mrs. J. flattened you all like a human game of dominos.”

“Only once,” I stated.

He gave a low chuckle and stepped aside to let me in.

“Why do you lock your office even though you’re here?” I asked, walking past him and . . . I stopped cold. The air shifted around me. An electric breeze tickled the fine hairs on my arm.

No.

He was here. In the room. But, where?

I scanned the office, not finding the person I had craved so long to see. But I could feel his eyes on me.

I can’t do this now. Not now. Not with Brett.

“I have to go,” I said, backing toward the door, bumping into T as I attempted escape.

“Wait,” T said, blocking my path. “Why are you leaving?”

“He’s here,” I hissed under my breath, not wanting my words to reach Brett, wherever he was.

“Then talk to him.”

“I don’t want to,” I said, squeezing past T only to get stuck between his thick arm and the wall. “A little help here.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to him?”

“Yes, not right now.”

I felt him hesitate for a moment but then he stepped away, allowing my escape. And, like a coward, I fled.

It wasn’t until I was in the safety of my car with a mile between us that I began to breathe again.

Why is Brett back in town?

Something didn’t feel right.

Whatever was happening or was about to happen, I was going to stay far away.

 

* * *

 

The ladies and I were standing around Mrs. Janowski’s dining room table in the early afternoon, waiting for her to open a large box. She eagerly sliced the tape and lifted the flap. “Ladies, behold our new uniforms!” She clutched a shirt and lifted it proudly into the air.

“Oh my God!”

“It’s hideous!”

“Oh dear!”

Mrs. Janowski lowered the shirt to inspect it. “Well . . . it’s not glamorous. But it will do the job. Perhaps the hat will make a difference.” She dug through the box and pulled out a baseball cap.

Our noses wrinkled. Poor Aaron looked petrified.

“It’s worse than the PP hat,” Sylvia stated.

Between the fluorescent-blue shirts with cheetah lettering and the pink floral hats with baby-blue lettering, the uniforms were a colossal disaster.

“Who chose the uniforms?” Kym whispered to me with her nose still scrunched.

“They all did,” I whispered back.

“Do you think they might have a problem with their eyesight?” Kym asked.

“If their eyesight is ‘opinionated and stubborn,’ then, yes, they have a problem.”

Edna perched a hat on her head. “I think the caps are perfect. Let’s just wear these with either a pink or baby-blue T-shirt to match.”

“We’d look like a sea of cotton candy,” Sylvia argued.

“Or we could just wear the shirts and forget the hats,” Ida offered. “I don’t much like the cheetah print, but . . .”

“We are wearing both,” Mrs. J. interrupted. “We picked these and so this is what we’ll wear.”

Kym and I exchanged the same hesitant look.

“We are expected at Shanty Arcade at five tonight,” Mrs. Janowski said. “I think we should go over our plan of attack.”

“We’re attacking?” Edna asked.

Mrs. Janowski waved her off. “No. I mean, we should have a plan in place for whom is doing what. I have a layout of the jobsite.”

We all peered down at the hand-drawn map on the table. At least she’d used a ruler.

“Sylvia and Ida, you both take the concession-stand area from here to here,” Mrs. Janowski said, running her finger along the designated spot. “Edna and I will walk the gaming area. Kym and Mars will walk the outside perimeter.”

“What should I do?” Aaron asked.

“You, my boy, have a very important job,” Mrs. Janowski stated with gravity.

Aaron smiled widely. “What is it?”

“I need you to be our communication. You’ll have to take messages and updates to each team and keep your eye out for dangerous criminals.”

Kym and I glanced at each other with a smirk.

“I can do that!” Aaron said.

“I know you can,” Mrs. Janowski replied. “That’s why I gave you such an important job. You might even have to play a game or two, just to get into these hooligans’ mindset.”

“I’m going to be great at this job.” Aaron grinned.

“Mrs. J., I didn’t tell Hank I needed off. I’m not sure if I can help tonight,” I said.

“You can have off,” Ida said.

“He’ll be mad.”

“You’re there every day. I think he and Jack can manage for a night without you.”

“But, even so . . .”

Ida pinned me with a stare. “You’re a workaholic, aren’t you?”

“I’m not,” I started to argue only to find Kym and Mrs. Janowski nodding vigorously.

“She is,” Kym said.

“If she’s not working, she doesn’t know what to do with herself,” Mrs. Janowski added. “Well, that is, unless Evan is around. Then we know what happens.” She gave a very large, exaggerated wink.

“Don’t forget about Brett,” Sylvia said. “I heard he kept her quite busy too.”

“Yes, but he left,” Mrs. Janowski said. “And it’s too bad. I liked him.”

“Can we drop the subject?” I scowled. “Brett’s gone. I’m with Evan. And I’m a workaholic. I think we’ve dissected my life enough for one day.”

“He’s not gone,” Ida said. “I saw him yesterday.”

All eyes turned to Ida, waiting for her to continue. I prayed for her to stop.

“Where was he?” Kym asked.

I could have kicked Kym right then.

“He was at T’s place.”

“Oh, you must have mistaken him for someone else,” I said, not knowing why I wanted to keep his presence a secret. But I did.

“He introduced himself,” Ida said, pinning me with her laser stare again.

Kym slid a sideways glance over at me. “Well, if he’s here, it’s none of our business,” she said, picking up her purse. “Aaron and I have to head out. We’ll see you ladies tonight.”

“Don’t forget your uniforms,” Mrs. Janowski said, handing her two sets of very ugly uniforms.

Kym winced as she took the garments. As they headed out the door, she gave me the look that said we were going to talk whether I wanted to or not.

“I better go too,” I said. “I need to call Hank and let him know not to expect me.”

“Let me do it,” Ida said with an impish grin. “You know how I love giving him bad news.”

“That’s fine with me,” I said, taking the uniform out of Mrs. Janowski’s outstretched hands and saying my farewell.

I’m not going to think about Brett, I silently ordered myself as I walked over to my house. Nor will I think about Evan and his admission letter.

Que sera, sera.

Muttering a foreign phrase in my head didn’t put me at ease. It certainly didn’t make me stop thinking about them.

Nothing was going to put me at ease until I faced Brett and Evan.

Unfortunately, I had absolutely no brave bones in my body.

Only chicken.

Lots and lots of chicken.