Running Away With You (Running #3) (56 page)

I don’t know how he does it, but Evan is in the zone, relaxed and as cool as a cucumber.  He had his own team of preppers helping him to craft his message, only they were finished in a little over an hour.  Evan spent the remainder of the time working with me and my team.

Never having received a call from the court, we were able to spend the entire day prepping.

Our first visit is with the production assistant, Parker.  We go through the interview questions one by one.  I try to listen intently, but my mind is completely preoccupied, thinking of ways to choke the ever-loving crap out of the sick individual who leaked my scandalous video.  At least I know I have Gavin working to get it removed as soon as possible.

Next a friendly young woman enters and introduces herself as Cindy Lou, the on-set Makeup Artist.  Cindy Lou whisks me to the hair and makeup room, where she works her magic.  There’s certainly nothing glamorous or flamboyant about this room.  Shelves full of products cover the walls.  Even the worktable is overflowing with beauty tools, gadgets, bottles, and tubes.  It’s by far the most well-lit room I’ve ever been in, and in no time at all I’m camera ready.

When I’m done, she brings me to the actual Green Room, where I find Evan and Joey sitting together.  Both men immediately jump to their feet when I enter. 

Joey greets me with a big hug and kiss.  “Juliette, you look beautiful.  How are you holding up?  Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I am, I’m just super nervous,” I admit, twisting the diamond on my finger in an attempt to keep my hands busy.

“Just remember, you’re among friends.  Ignore the band, the audience, and the cameras, and just talk to me like we’ve done plenty of times before.  You’ll do great.”  Joey is so disarming with his demeanor, I can’t help but calm, just a bit.

“Excuse me, Mr. Griffin, but they’re ready for you on the set,” a crewmember says to Joey. 

“That’s my cue,” Joey says as he stands up.  “I’m not so great at advice,” he tells us.  “But if it would help, I could offer you a sarcastic comment instead.”  Evan and I laugh as Joey leaves the room. 

Evan gathers my hand in his as we watch the show on the closed-circuit televisions.  “You’ll do great,” he whispers, pulling me in for a soft kiss.

The music from the house band starts up, and all I can think is,
God, I hope I don’t embarrass myself
.  Evan must sense my tension, because he gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

Joey has barely finished his monologue when Evan’s phone begins to ring.  He grabs it quickly from the table and checks the caller ID.  His eyes grow wide and he looks at me apprehensively. “It’s Gavin,” he tells me.

Quickly I tell him, “Answer it, Evan.  He knows you’re here.  It must be important.”

I hit mute on the television and listen to a one-sided conversation, doing my best to piece together the exchange.  Unfortunately for me, Evan isn’t giving anything away.  His only responses are “yeah”, “uh-huh”, “yup”, and “got it”. 

He hands the phone over to me, and for the first time today he actually looks nervous.  His chest expands as he takes deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

“What did he say?” I ask.

“He wanted to know if I was willing to receive the results of the paternity test over the phone.  He’s expecting a call from the lab any time now.”  He sighs heavily. 

“But we’re about to go on stage!”

“I know.” He shrugs.  “Listen, they’re going to bring me out there any minute now.  You’re going to have to take the call when it comes in.”  Evan sits on the couch, rubbing his forehead. 

Gazing nervously at the phone, I ask, “What am I supposed to do when Gavin calls?”

Evan looks at me and I see the nervousness in his eyes.  “Answer the phone, talk to Gavin, and find out if I’m Kai’s father.”

I take a deep breath.  “And then what?  Tell you when the show’s over?  Burst out on stage and hand Joey a sealed envelope like we’re on Maury Povich?”

“Of course not,” he says, shooting me a look.  “You can tell me during the commercial break.” 

As if this situation isn’t stressful enough, now instead of butterflies in my stomach, I have a tropical storm churning in my belly. 

Before we can discuss it any further, Parker knocks on the door and sticks his head in.  “Mr. McGuire, they’re ready for you.  Would you come with me, please?”  He barely looks at us, focusing his complete attention on the clipboard in his hand.

Evan kisses me and dutifully follows Parker out the door.  “I’ll see you in ten minutes,” he tells me.

I give him my best “I’ll be fine” nod and wink, trying to put on a brave face.  But inside, I feel like I might spontaneously combust from the constant churning and twisting driving me mad.

My eyes are glued to the television. I watch the live feed anxiously while at the same time grasping the phone in a death grip.  The house band starts up and I see Cindy Lou standing behind Joey, who is seated at his desk.  She’s touching up his makeup and fixing his hair.  Joey’s not paying any attention to her at all.  He’s busy stacking a bunch of notecards on his desk. 

Just as Cindy Lou scurries off stage, Joey begins to introduce Evan.  “Our first guest is a sports superstar who just ended an amazing season by bringing the New Jersey Sentinels to their first playoff game in five years. Ladies and gentlemen, please help me give a warm welcome to Evan McGuire.”  The crowd erupts into thunderous applause.  The camera pans across the audience and stops at the curtains, which open just enough to walk through.

Out walks Evan, and an immediate glow radiates through my body.  He’s wearing jeans, a white shirt with just a few open buttons, and a black blazer.  He takes a few steps toward Joey, and the two exchange handshakes and the typical shoulder-bump and back-slap.  They trade a few private words, and then Evan turns to acknowledge the audience, waving his hand in the air.  He smiles, exposing his pearly white teeth and swoon-worthy dimples, and all you can hear are the women in the audience hollering. 

Evan mouths inaudible thanks to the audience several times, hoping to quiet their raucous howls, but to no avail.  Finally, once he sits down, the audience calms and the interview can begin.

“So, Mac – congratulations on a great game last night.  I know it didn’t go the way you hoped, but you’ve got to be pleased with your team’s accomplishments this season.”

Just as Parker assured us, the interview begins with a football discussion.  I let my mind wander, rehearsing my answers to potential questions.  I’m startled back to the here and now when the audience begins to laugh loudly.  Joey is berating Evan for not inviting him to the playoff game.

“Would it have killed you to get me two tickets?  I thought we were better friends than that,” he teases. 

“You have to let me make it up to you,” Evan contritely offers.  “How about you join Juliette and me at the Pro Bowl in a few weeks?”

“Are you kidding?”  Evan shakes his head.  “Seriously?  The Pro Bowl?  Dude, I’m in,” Joey readily accepts the invitation.  “Will you be playing?” Joey asks.

“They’re drafting players this year.  I won’t know until a week before the game.  But even if I’m not playing, I plan on taking Juliette to Honolulu to watch the game.  She’s never been, and I think we could both use a nice vacation.”

Hawaii?  Oh, my God!
  My mind is reeling.  What girl wouldn’t love to be whisked away to Hawaii?  Before I get to enjoy the thought, Evan’s phone vibrates.  I look at the screen and, just as I had feared, the call is from Gavin.  Without wasting any time, I unlock the phone and answer.

“Hi, Gavin.  It’s Juliette.  Do you have any news for us?” I ask.

“I do.  Is Evan around or is he taping?”

“He’s taping, so you’re stuck with me,” I tell him, trying my best to sound strong and unfazed.

“Well, I just heard from the lab and the results are in.  Let me begin by assuring you that the tests are pretty conclusive.”  Gavin goes on and on, explaining codis markers, alleles, and parentage index numbers.  None of it means a thing to me.  I listen patiently until he gets to the one part I can understand – the paternity conclusion.

“So there’s no doubt?” I double check.

“None,” he asserts.

“Okay.  Thank you.  Now I’m off to tell Evan.”

I stick my head into the hallway and spot Parker rushing down the hallway.  I call to him and he immediately turns.  “Miss Fletcher, how can I help you?”

“Can you take me to the set?  I need to give Evan an important message during the commercial break.”

Parker checks his watch, the clipboard in his hand, and his watch one more time.  “Okay, come with me.  They’re going to break any second now.  When you get out there, they’ll still be filming, so you have to be invisible.  No one can see you or hear you – got it?” 

I readily agree and follow Parker as he hurries me through the hallways and through a pair of offstage doors leading to the back of the stage.  A few careful steps over wires and through cables, and I find myself staring at Joey and Evan as they wrap up the first half of Evan’s interview.  Cindy Lou is waiting beside me.  She gives me a silent chin nod and smile. 

We don’t have to wait long.  The house band starts up, signaling the commercial break.  Cindy Lou rushes to the stage to touch up Joey and Evan while the two men chat.  I look around, unsure of what to do next.  Do I rush onstage?  Call out his name?  Jump up and down?  I implore him with my eyes, praying that he feels my presence and finds me in the crowd.

Parker spots my uncertainty and comes right over.  “Miss Fletcher, you have one minute with Mr. McGuire.  If you have something to tell him, I suggest you do it quickly.”  He turns his back to me and converses with someone using his headset.  I take a deep breath and step in front of the camera. 

After a few cautious steps, Evan spots me, gets up from his seat, and meets me on the floor.  He pulls me close to him and speaks quietly in my ear, careful not to be overheard.  “Did he call?”

I nod my head.

“And?” he asks.

“Your mother was right,” I tell him.  He wraps a pair of strong arms around me and squeezes.

“She usually is,” he whispers, holding me tight.  Parker interrupts our moment to guide Evan back to his seat.  The second part of his interview is about to begin, and now he has important news to break.  I’m glad he gets to do it here with his friend, Joey. 

“Knock ‘em dead, Chief,” I call as he walks away.

Another crewmember finds me and offers me a seat in the shadows where I can sit, listen, and watch.  As they come back from commercial break, Evan and Joey are talking.  Both men are smiling and Joey offers Evan a handshake.  I wonder if he’s told him.

“So Evan, I know you’re a big star off the field too.  Women can’t seem to get enough of you.  Between your ten-stories-tall underwear campaign throughout Manhattan, your sports drink and men’s clothing endorsements, and your recent appearance in
People Magazine
’s Sexiest Man Alive list, you always seem to get plenty of attention.”  Joey gets the audience whipped into a frenzy.

“Yeah, well, a few more years on the football field and this face won’t be getting so many offers.  I figure I should take advantage while I can.”  I love how he can listen to someone rattle off a list like that and still remain humble.  He amazes me.

“You know, I get a lot of attention from women too.  I don’t like to brag, but whenever I take off my shirt, women start yelling at me too.”  There’s a few catcall whistles from the audience.  “Only they’re screaming at me to put it back on,” he kids. 

“I get my share of negative attention too.”  Evan is segueing into the real topic.

“Speaking of which, there’s been a lot of talk recently of your history with entertainment reporter Laci Keilani before she died.  Is it true that you used to date during your years in Houston?”

“Dating is a very nice word to describe my previous social life.”  Evan pauses and takes a sip of water from the mug sitting on the desk.  “I’m not entirely sure if the popular definition matches with my history.”

“Okay, if you weren’t dating, then how would you describe it?” Joey asks.

“Um, well, I’ve been called a skirt-chaser, a lech, playboy, and a Lothario.  I don’t know what that last one means, but I’m pretty sure it’s not good.  Adam and I met Laci when I was a backup quarterback for the Texans.  She interviewed me after a playoff game.  She was beautiful, confident, and smart as a whip.  I was immediately attracted to her.”

It’s so hard to hear Evan say those things about another woman.  But they’re just words.

“How long did your relationship last?” Joey asks.

“Back then, I didn’t do
relationships.
  I did casual.  I did parties.  I did one-night stands.  My friend Adam and I met many women over the years, and from time to time we both found ourselves attracted to the same woman.”

“So is it safe to say that you both
knew
Laci on some level?”  Joey is very cautious with his wording. 

“Yes, it would.  And that’s not a reflection on Laci.  She was an amazing woman whose life ended entirely too soon.”

Joey flips through his index cards, obviously internally debating with himself how far he wants to push the questions.  “It would appear that you have found yourself in another media circus recently.  There are all kinds of rumors circulating about Laci having a child and that either your or Adam might be the father.  Is any of it true?”

“Laci did have a child, and unfortunately for all of us, she never put the father’s name on the birth certificate.”  Evan’s tone has changed.  When the cameras are rolling, he’s almost always charming and pleasant.  But right now there’s an indignant bite in his words.  “Adam and I can handle whatever media attention comes to us.  We put ourselves out there in the public, and losing our privacy is a part of that deal.  But having that poor child and his family chased, hounded, and stalked at all hours of the day and night is inexcusable.”

“I couldn’t agree more.  Ever since my daughter Maisy was born,” Joey asserts, “I’ve bent over backwards to protect her from the press.  I hate to bring up such a private matter, but I have to ask one more question.”