Running Away With You (Running #3) (55 page)

“Well, then – what are we standing around here for?  Let’s get outta here!” Adam jumps to his feet.  “Where to?”

Evan looks down at me and asks, “Juliette?”

“Rush.  Definitely.  I’m done hiding.  I want to see my friends, and I haven’t been there in days.”

Evan sweeps me into his arms, lifts me off my feet, and announces, “That’s my girl!”

Adam leads us through a maze of dark, dimly lit hallways until we reach the private parking garage where his SUV awaits.  Adam has become accustomed to chauffeuring us around and doesn’t seem to mind in the least when Evan climbs into the back seat with me, leaving him alone in the front.

As we drive north toward Asbury, we discuss the plans for tomorrow’s interview.  Evan has to find the right balance between respect toward Laci and honesty about their history.  But I’m sure he’ll do just fine.  It’s my interview that needs the most prep work.  Do I underplay the recent events involving David, or completely open up and put it all out there?

Evan has his arm around me, his thumb making tiny circles on the back of my shoulder, and I immediately relax into his gentle touch.  “Baby, take it from me, the press has a way of finding everything out, especially the stuff you don’t want them to know.  Let it come from you.  Be brutally honest.  Joey won’t push you too hard, so if you panic, he’ll be able to change the topic.”

We pull up to the restaurant and I feel confident in our plan.  Really, we have only one thing to remember – tell the truth.  That way, no matter what happens, we can’t make a mistake. 

The minute we walk into the bar, Evan is assaulted with congratulations.  Friends and strangers push toward him, all muttering words of encouragement and support. 

“You played an amazing game today, Mac.”

“We’re going all the way next year.”

“Those refs made some horrible calls, man.”

“You
have
to play in the Pro Bowl now.”

That last comment is a shock to the system.  Mentally, I’ve been preparing myself for the fact that Evan’s season just ended, and now I’m presented with the possibility of yet another game.

While Evan mingles, I grab Marcus, and together we clear a few tables and pull them together for our little group.  “Do you think you can get Camilla down here?” I ask.  “It would be great to have the whole gang together.”

Marcus grins and points at the bar.  There’s his wife, sitting at the bar, chatting with Emmy and Blaine. 

“I just told the girls we’re closing the kitchen,” Marcus proudly explains.  “As soon as Reese cleans up, she’ll be out here too.”

“And Derek?” I ask.  “Has anyone heard from him?”

“Yeah, I got a hold of him right before kick-off.  He’s with Shea.  The press showed up at her parents’ house and he ran down there to help.”

“I had a feeling.  Well, Derek’s been through this more than once with Evan and me, so I’m sure he knows how to handle the situation.”

Marcus agrees.  “I told him to call me if he needed to move the family.  I offered to drive up there with my truck and bring them all down here, or wherever they wanted to go.  He never called back, so I guess they just hunkered down to wait it out.”

I watch as Adam makes his way over to the bar to see his girl.  Emmy’s entire face lights up like the tree at Rockefeller Center the moment she sees him.  She goes running out from behind the bar, throwing herself into his ready arms.  She plants kisses all over his face as he grins from ear to ear. 

Blaine’s head pops up from behind the bar, grinning devilishly.  The television and music controls are behind the bar, and he thinks it would be a good idea to turn on ESPN’s post-game analysis while pumping classic rock music through the bar.  Marcus joins in the antics and turns down the lights, instantly transforming the restaurant into a nightclub.

I make my way over to Emmy, who’s deep in conversation with Adam.  “I got this covered, Em.  Go sit down.  You’ve been on your feet all day.”

For once she doesn’t fight or argue with me.  She hands me her bar rag and her apron, and follows Adam over to our reserved table.  Emmy is practically sitting on his lap as they chat and discuss the events of the day. 

Marcus grins when he spots me behind the bar.  “You sure you know what you’re doing back there, boss?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I can handle it.  I was trained by the best bartender I know,” I remind him.

He takes Camilla by the hand and whisks her away, eagerly joining Emmy and Adam at our table.  He’s had a long day too, and I’m sure he’s glad to be off his feet.

My first order is for a round of Fireball Shooters.  It’s a simple drink to make, and it gives me a chance to practice my flair moves.  I try a simple spin and flip move with the rum bottle, and the guests at the bar whoop and howl when I pull it off. 

I feel a pair of strong hands on my hips, and a familiar voice whispers in my ear, “I could watch you all night long.”

I back up just enough to make physical contact and wiggle my bottom against him.  “Keep talking to me like that and I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

He gives me a playful slap on the ass and heads right over to Blaine.  I watch out of the corner of my eye as the two men talk quietly.  I see Blaine nod his head, speak a few words to Evan, shake his hand, and walk away without saying a word to me.

As I stand at the beer tap, I watch Evan take an order from a pair of giddy girls.  He checks their ID and flirts with them a little.  Then I see him line up a few glasses.  Holy cow – he thinks he’s going to make them drinks.  “Hey, Chief,” I call to him, “whatcha doin?”

“These two lovely young ladies here asked for Alabama Slammers,” he turns and smiles at them, “so I’m making them a Malibu Bay Breeze instead.”  The girls giggle and seem perfectly happy with their arrangement.

“Oh, really?”

“I told them they could wait for you to make them an Alabama Slammer or they could let me make them something else.”

“We don’t mind,” one of the girls crows.

“Not one bit,” her friend confirms, staring dreamily at the star quarterback.

Evan pushes a few buttons on the cash register and actually completes his sale.  After pouring and serving a few more beers, I make my way over to him and ask, “How long do you plan on staying back here?”  He raises an eyebrow at me.  “And what did you do with Blaine?”

“Well, I thought Marcus could use a break, so Blaine’s working the floor, helping the waitresses.”  He whispers in my ear, “Is this going to be a problem?”

Ready to have some innocent fun with my man, I tell him, “No problem here.  So long as you can keep up with me, that is.”  I take my bar rag and snap him on the ass with it.

Working beside Evan is more fun that I could have imagined.  He finds excuses to rub up against me, pretending to look for bottles that are in my speed rack, and grabbing my ass every chance he gets.  Of course, when he bends deep into the reach-in cooler to grab a cold beer, I can’t resist getting a little grabby myself.

Evan does his best, but more than once his measurement is off, so even though he’s trying to make two shots, he winds up making four.  Rather than waste the fine stock, he brings me one and we do a shot together. 

There’s a lull behind the bar when Springsteen’s classic hit “Thunder Road” roars from the speakers.  Evan grabs an empty bottle of beer, turning it into a microphone and crooning right along with the Boss.  All eyes are immediately drawn to him.  Smiles a mile wide cross everyone’s face, especially the women’s, as they watch him exhibit a passion and enthusiastic abandon seldom seen on the football field.

Unfortunately, Evan interprets this as approval for his singing, and he turns up the volume despite the fact that he is laughably off-key.  Rush Dessert Bar has just turned into karaoke night, and the first act is positively dreadful. 

I watch in delighted appreciation as the song winds down.  The end of his performance brings a bombastic calliope of laughter and applause. 

I love that he cannot sing.  I love that he thinks he can.  I love this man, not despite his weaknesses, but because of them.

Blaine appears behind the bar and insists that Evan and I return to our friends.  As I look around the room, I see that the tables are nearly empty and only the bar remains full.  Blaine can handle it alone.

When Evan and I join our small group, Adam and Marcus are oddly quiet as Reese, Emmy, and Camilla prattle on about something.  “Well, I can’t wait.  I’ve never been to a Hollywood premiere before.”  Emmy spots Evan and continues, “But I bet Evan has.  He’ll know, let’s ask.”

“Ask me what?” Evan responds, and he pulls out a chair for me before joining his friends.

“Auggie and Lucas invited all of us to the C.O.P.S. premiere on Memorial Day.  We were just wondering if we would be close enough to ... I mean would it be possible to ... ” Reese is trying to find an appropriate way to phrase the girls’ question, but struggles.

Emmy, having no such problems, blurts it out.  “We want to meet Shemar Moore.  Will we be close enough to touch him?”

Evan looks at me for help and clarification.  “Shemar Moore?”

“He’s an actor in the movie,” I explain.

“Not just an actor,” Camilla interrupts, “but the star.”

“And he’s number one on Camilla’s freebie list,” Emmy announces. 

Camilla immediately blushes and admonishes her friend.  “Emmy!  You said you wouldn’t say anything.  That’s the last time I tell you a secret.”

Reese teases Camilla, “I don’t know what made you think Emmy could keep your secret, Camilla.”  Emmy and Camilla laugh aloud.  Reese is right and they both know it.

“Well, I hate to disappoint you, girls, but it’s not likely you’re going to get within fifty yards of Samir Moore,” he says.

“Shamar!” the girls quickly correct him.

“Whatever his name is, they usually keep the stars under close guard with lots of security detail for the night.  Now, if you can get yourselves an invite for an afterparty, security relaxes a lot and you might have a chance.”

The girls begin planning and plotting elaborate schemes to get invited to one of Lucas’ afterparties. 

Evan turns his attention to Adam and Marcus, and the three revert to their usual topic of conversation, football.  Adam and Marcus are spewing off their list of candidates for the Pro Bowl, and there’s no doubt that Evan will top everyone’s list of draft choices this year.

I look around the table and I am filled with gladness.  I have everything my heart desires; great friends and the best man I ever could have wished for. I sit deep in thought, secretly entertaining thoughts of straddling Evan where he sits. The several shots I consumed behind the bar with Evan further enhance my naughty thoughts. I’m feeling delightfully buzzed and completely aroused. 

There’s a lull in the conversation, and Joe Cocker’s signature song comes on, “You Are So Beautiful.”  Adam takes Emmy in his arms and starts to dance with her. It’s such a beautiful sight. 

My attention focuses back on Evan and I find him talking on his cell phone. He doesn’t talk for long, but whatever he hears pisses him off. He pounds his fist on the table. I watch as he leans over and says something in Marcus’ ear. Marcus just shakes his head in disgust.

“Juliette, sweetheart, I just got a call from Joey.  His production assistants are doing some research for tomorrow’s interview on Night After Night, and something just got posted to a gossip site, The Dirty.”  By the look on his face, I know it can’t be good.

“You’ve weathered bad publicity before, Evan.  Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.”  Immediate flashbacks rush to mind of gossip sites posting presumptive articles about Evan taking drugs from me, his supposed drug supplier.  And of course, there’s the never-ending gossip spawned by Evan’s previously active love life.  I can’t help but wonder if it’s an exposé on Evan and Adam’s illicit night spent with Laci, which produced a child.

“I’m so glad to hear you say that, baby, because one of David’s videos got leaked.  Someone submitted it to the site, along with some bullshit story about you two making a dirty movie together.”  My ears begin ringing loudly and I cannot hear what he’s saying.  His mouth continues to move, but I’m in some form of a trance.  I look around the room and I see faces staring at me, talking, but none of it registers.  All I can think about is the fact that it’s out there.  The thing I feared most is now happening.  And I’m going to have to answer for it on national television.

E
van and I arrive early at the studio and are escorted to a room called the Lion Room.  Our names are printed on a digital display outside the door.  The moment we open the door, the name of the room begins to make more sense.  The walls are adorned with textured wallpaper covered with silhouettes of regal lions.  The mirrors and pictures on the walls all have gold-plated frames, the type one would expect to see in a room designed by Donald Trump.  There’s even a golden lion painted on the back of the door.

We take a seat on the leather couch and try to make ourselves comfortable.  Adam and a team from the Sentinels’ Media Relations Office prepped me for hours before we left.  The entire interview is supposed to last no more than nine minutes, but my meetings lasted nearly five hours.  I thought I was well prepared.  But as I sit here in this ornate and ostentatious room, I feel completely out of my element.