Fate Interrupted (24 page)

“Easy Ryder,”
Clay warned. “Megan will have a shit-fit if that pretty face gets messed up.”

Ryder hesitated
and clicked the blade back inside the knife, got off Dean and automatically
resumed his concrete stance. Dean scrambled to his feet, favoring his arm and
hitting the old man with a chilly glare.

Clay tossed Dean
a small black box, which Dean bobbled before catching. “I figured you might not
have time for shopping so I took the liberty for you.”

Dean studied the
tiny box in his hand, his chest rising and falling.

“I also made a
reservation for you at the Lake Park Bistro for eight o’clock tonight, where
you will drop onto one knee in front of the entire restaurant and ask for my
daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Dean’s wide eyes
jerked back to Clay.

Clay got to his
feet and straightened his coat. “And if you don’t,” he said, smiling at Mr.
Ryder, “well, I think we’ve made ourselves clear.”

“You can’t be
serious,” Dean said faintly.

Clay’s eyebrows
dipped together. “I think you already know the answer to that.” He pulled an
envelope from an inside pocket and handed it to Dean. “And since we don’t have
time to plan a big fancy wedding, nor do we want to draw any more attention to
this matter than necessary, here are two tickets to Hawaii where you two crazy
lovebirds will elope and spend the next week having fun in the sun. Your flight
leaves at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

Dean stood
speechless, his ears ringing in the unsettling silence between them.

“Mr. Ryder will
be watching, so don’t be late.”

Dean shuddered
at the thought. “You’re
fuckin
crazy,” he muttered.

Clay laughed.
“You have to be to run for office these days, Dean!”

“I can’t just
take off from work with no notice!”

Clay’s smile
slid down his face, leaving a bitter expression in its wake. “You’ll be taking
off a lot more than a week if you don’t.” He paused to button his coat. “Did
you know that negligence shutters one in twenty law firms in the United States
each year?”

Dean’s incredulous
gaze narrowed, blood rushing through his veins.

Clay snorted.
“It’s a damn shame, too, but what’re you going to do? Everyone is
sue
happy these days.” He flashed his million dollar smile,
his white teeth twinkling in the sunlight streaming through the windows, and
turned for the front door. Mr. Ryder maintained his post while Clay grabbed the
doorknob.

“Oh and one more
thing,” Clay said, turning back around.

Dean’s eyebrows
furrowed. He could only imagine what would come out of Clay’s mouth next. He
was so focused on Clay he never saw Mr. Ryder strike him in the gut, driving
the air from his lungs and dropping him to his knees. The black box and
envelope tumbled with him to the floor as he gasped for air that wouldn’t come.

“That’s for
assaulting me in my own home in front of my family,” Clay said calmly, watching
Dean writhe in pain on the floor with great satisfaction as he cinched his silken
tie. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Mr. Ryder
grabbed a fistful of Dean’s hair and yanked his face upward.

Clay towered over
Dean like a giant. “You fail to meet any part of our agreement, or tell a living
soul about any of this, and I’ll let Mr. Ryder here off his leash.”

Ryder broke
protocol and cracked an evil grin before dropping Dean’s head back to the
carpet.

Clay jerked his
chin to the bedroom. “Check his phone.”

Mr. Ryder
waltzed into the bedroom and snatched the phone from the chair, flipping
through screens like it was his own. He looked up and shook his head. “It’s
clean.”

Clay turned to
Dean with a smirk. “Hate to find out you were recording any of this.” He
checked his silver Rolex and went to the front door. “Call Megan and tell her
you will pick her up at seven-thirty,” he said with a casual tone, pulling the
door open. “Oh, and whatever you do,” he said, turning back with a polite
smile, “you two kids have fun now.
Ya
hear?”

Mr. Ryder coolly
adjusted his black tie and followed Clay out into the hallway, disappearing
around the corner without shutting the door. Small sips of air scratched their
way down Dean’s throat, into his lungs. He crawled to the open door and was
about to shut it when the old lady from upstairs passed by with mail in her
hands. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening in dismay. Dean slammed
the door shut in her contorted face and leaned against it with his legs
stretched out before him, fighting to catch his breath. His mind raced like the
wind, trying to hang onto anything remotely close to sanity and coming up way
short.

He forced
himself to his feet. His gut wrenched with the movement, his lungs burning from
the vicious blow. He bent over, grimacing with the pain, and picked up the
black box. There was a light click when he cracked it open. The sparkling diamond
nestled inside was staggering. Dean squinted with the sunlight reflecting off
its polished cuts and snapped the box shut. The envelope held two airline
tickets and seeing his and Megan’s names in print made his gut hurt worse than
moving. He looked up and stared through the patio door, imagining Megan lying
next to him on a white sandy beach, her impressive ring twinkling in the
sunshine as waves crashed around them. Evy’s face whisked through his foggy
mind, leaving entrails of smoke spiraling behind. He swallowed thickly. It
should have been them.

Chapter
Thirteen

Evy stared into
the oval mirror above the sink, barely recognizing the person looking back.
Shadows rimmed her sunken eyes. Colorless lips melted into her pasty complexion.
The flickering light overhead didn’t help. They may need the milk man’s help
after all.

She pulled her hair
from its ponytail and shook it loose. The matted locks fell over her shoulders
and smelled like dough. A defeated sigh escaped her and she wondered how much
time she had to perform a miracle before Dean would arrive. Not enough she
decided, using both hands to resuscitate her limp hair.

She fumbled
through her purse on the counter, cursing herself for not having hairspray on
hand. Makeup, eyeliner and lip-gloss would have to do. She brushed and stroked
on automatic pilot, her heart racing nearly as fast as her mind. They had
already wasted too much time and she couldn’t decide if she should hug Dean first
or plant a big wet kiss on his lips.
Maybe both in the name
of efficiency.
She smacked her lips together and studied her work. Her shoulders
slumped as another deflated breath left her lungs. She shook her head in
frustration, trying to recall the saying about putting lipstick on a pig.

Brooke burst
into the bathroom and Evy jumped. “There you are!” Brooke’s eyes widened as she
examined her sister in the mirror. “Well, look at you!”

Evy blushed,
sending some much needed color to her cheeks as she scooped everything back
into her purse.

Brooke folded
her arms across her apron. “You called him didn’t you?”

Evy glanced at
Brooke in the mirror, a bashful smile playing on her lips.

“Isn’t your
little sister always right?”

A short laugh
fluttered Evy’s shiny lips. “I don’t know about that.”

“Are you meeting
him right now?”

“He’s on his way.”

Brooke took her
hand and squeezed. “You really love him, don’t you?”

Evy responded
with a tight-lipped nod and changed the subject. “He said he talked to someone
on the city council for us.”

Brooke inhaled
sharply, covering her gaping mouth a fist.

“Now, there are
no guarantees but it’s something.”

Brooke threw her
arms around Evy and drove her into a white hand dryer, wrenching the air from her
lungs. “I knew this would work out. I just knew it!”

Evy hugged her
back, trying not to smudge her makeup. They pulled apart and stared into each
others’ watery eyes.

“We’re going to
get this liquor license back and you and Dean are going to live happily ever
after. Trust me, I just have a feeling.”

A reserved smile
took Evy’s lips by surprise. “I hope so.”

“It will happen;
you just have to stay positive.”

They stared at
each other for a moment longer, a silent understanding passing between them.

“Okay, well I
have to use the restroom.”

Evy frowned.

“A
little privacy?”

Evy laughed and
slung her purse over her shoulder and slipped out the door. She stopped in the
middle of the empty tables dotting the front of Sugars and inhaled the cinnamon
and chocolate floating from the kitchen. She couldn’t remember the place ever
smelling so good. An hour ago the sight of the trendy room had filled her with nothing
but angst, the thought of losing it all weighing heavily upon her. Now, it had
a glow of hope rather than doom.

“You okay?”

Evy turned to
Ben, who was standing behind the counter with a tray of blueberry scones in his
hands and a towel draped over his shoulder. His look of concern warmed her
heart. Her parents hadn’t been big fans of Ben’s tattoos and earrings but it
hadn’t taken him long to win them over. He was perfect for Brooke. They fit
together like two sprockets in a well oiled clock, specially designed for one
another. A thoughtful sigh left her lips. Deep down, she knew Brooke was right.
Richie had just been practice to make her stronger and Dean her reward for
keeping the faith. They
were meant
to be together,
like two sprockets in a well oiled clock.

“Evy?”

She blinked back
to reality and smiled at Ben, sashaying behind the counter and kissing him on
the cheek before disappearing into the kitchen. He watched the half door swing shut
behind her with his mouth gaping. “Women,” he muttered, sliding the yellow tray
into the bowed glass case.

“I heard that!” Evy
bellowed from the kitchen.

***

Dean stared at
his
smartphone
and pulled his shirt up over his nose,
the smell of Clay’s cologne hanging in the air, eating away at his insides like
tear gas. His thumb hovered above Evy’s name and he shut his eyes as a grimace
rolled through him. She had moved here to start a new life and he had nearly
destroyed it. He searched for the right words to ease her descent, knowing it
was futile. He was used to fighting tooth and nail for what he wanted but would
only end up hurting her more. There was no telling how far Clay would go to get
what he wanted. The man obviously had deep pockets and shady connections that
surprised even Dean, but he owed Evy some kind of an explanation. Maybe blowing
her off would be explanation enough. Maybe the best way to push her away was to
make her hate him.

He shuddered at
the thought and poked at the cell’s screen, lifting it to his ear like it
weighed a hundred pounds. Each ring watered his sorrow. He sat on the floor and
leaned against the couch, wondering if this was how a junkie felt on step five
or six. The sound of Megan’s excited voice made him recoil. Her happy tone
wasn’t fair. He had reserved that tone for Evy but, somehow, the reservations
had gotten mixed up
.

He could feel
words tumbling from his mouth but couldn’t hear them, like he was talking under
water. A blank expression coated his unshaven face as Megan said something
about something.

“What’s that?”

“I said, are you all right?”

He told her he
was and let the muddled words ooze from his lips, intent on keeping the
conversation as short as possible. She squealed with delight at his invitation
to dinner, sticking a steel knife in his windpipe, and then went on and on
about something that had happened to her earlier in the day. He cut her off and
told her he would see her at seven-thirty and hung up before she did.

A pent-up breath
hissed from his lips. He set the phone next to him on the carpet, a myriad of painful
emotions taking turns jabbing him with sharp sticks. He shut his eyes and
rubbed them until he saw stars, determined to find a way out of this living
hell. He felt like a coward for letting Clay and some bald geezer intimidate
him like this. He should be blowing Megan off, not the woman he loved. He shook
his head, going back and forth on it. In reality, what choice did he have? Clay
had made his point with Shaun. The only escape route led to the closure of
Sugars, quickly followed by the law firm where Dean was now finally partner. And
where would it end?
Carrie’s job?
Jon’s?
Their family and friends?
The stakes were too high. He
shook his head, wondering if his condo
was bugged
.

***

Evy checked the
large faced watch strapped to her slender wrist and exhaled a weary breath. Brooke
and Ben swapped glances.