Dream Runner (23 page)

“I, uh…” Marlea’s eyes fell and then rose. Her hand tightened on AJ’s arm. His hand covered hers and squeezed. “I had an accident, and it kind of changed my plans.”

“Accident.” Kessler looked thoughtful. “Sorry to hear it, but you’re looking well—exquisite, in fact. Will you be competing again soon?”

Marlea’s dimpled smile was confident. “Who knows what the future will bring?”

“You’re right, but in the meantime…” The writer looked thoughtful and was silent until both Marlea and AJ directed questioning looks at him. “Would you consider being a part of a series I’m researching? Competitive female athletes living in Atlanta would be my focus, and your recovery and future would be a perfect centerpiece.” He glanced at AJ, seemingly asking permission. “I’d like to call and set up a time, if you don’t mind.”

Putting a finger to the writer’s chin, Marlea redirected his gaze. “I’m sure he’s flattered, but I make my own decisions, and I’ll consider it.” Marlea turned and gave her glass to AJ. “Will you gentlemen excuse me?” She left the men with the soft whisper of silk.

“Magnificent woman, beautiful and with a mind of her own,” Kessler murmured, raising his glass as he moved off into the crowd.

“Yes, she is,” AJ agreed, watching her cut a path through the growing crowd.

“Still talking to yourself, AJ?” Cool fingers trailed his collar as the woman stepped around to face him. “Charming habit.”

“Bianca.”

“In the flesh.” Her back and midriff bare, Bianca’s wrapped knit dress clung to her like a second skin. She moved closer to AJ. Her fingers lingered, tracing the open neckline of his jacket. “You know I’ve never been one to let our little disagreements turn into grudges.” Her alluring smile framed perfect white teeth and her sweet breath warmed his skin.

“This is not the time or the place.” Gripping her wrist, he removed her hand and turned away.

“But a time will come, AJ, and you can name the place. You just need to resign yourself.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Don’t be silly; of course you are.” Bianca’s eyes narrowed and followed AJ’s to find Marlea’s back. “Oh, that’s your new playmate?” Her eyes, feral and determined, returned to his. “She looks harmless, AJ. Just remember, I’m not, and I saw you first.”

“You’re being ridiculous, and it doesn’t become you.” AJ brushed her fingers aside. “I’m here on business, and you came to play. Why don’t you run along and do that?” Almost on cue, Harriet Blake rushed to his side, stood on tiptoe, and whispered in his ear. He nodded and followed her without another word.

Bianca’s eyes flashed icy anger, and she nearly swung on the man who strolled close enough to offer her a glass of champagne. “No, thank you,” she said through gritted teeth. Brushing past him, she followed the path she had seen Marlea take.

Entering the small bathroom, Bianca found her quarry at the vanity mirror, applying lipstick. “Nice shade,” she said, managing a smile behind the benign words.

“Thank you. It’s borrowed, but I like it, too.” Marlea blotted her lips delicately.

“This is a lovely party, don’t you think? But then, AJ always has nice affairs.”

AJ?
The name caught her attention and Marlea turned from the mirror. “You know him?”

“I’ve known him for years and years,” Bianca snapped open her purse and studied the contents. “I almost married him. How do you know him?”

Almost married…Unless he’s almost married more than one woman, this is Bianca Coltrane.
Surprised, Marlea fought to keep her face from telling on her. “I’m a patient…a client of his.”

“How interesting.” Bianca’s eyes traveled over Marlea, examining her from head to toe, trying to find the flaws. What she found was good skin, the color of caramel. The golden whisky-toned eyes were intelligent and the lushly bow-shaped lips seductive. She tilted her head, looking down at Marlea’s feet. “Pretty shoes, but I think I would have opted for a higher heel.”

“After my surgery, high heels weren’t advisable.” Marlea looked at her feet and tried not to feel ugly.

“Surgical patient. Did you break something?” She looked Marlea up and down again, applying the new information. Noting the swell of her breast and the fine bend of her waistline as it flared into her hips, Bianca gave her points. “You certainly look athletic. Will you be running this race?”

“I’m afraid not. AJ doesn’t think I’m ready yet.”

“And of course, what AJ thinks is important to you.” Bianca’s hand-trimmed fake lashes brushed her cheek and she wrinkled her nose. “Running is such sweaty work.”

“I was a competitive runner.”

“Was.” Bianca hummed sympathetically. “No wonder he took you on. AJ has always had a soft spot for the underdog. That’s one of the things I’ll always love about him, even when we’re old and gray.” She wound a lock of hair around her finger, then leaned close to the mirror to inspect the resulting ringlet. She needn’t have bothered; her hair and make-up were flawless, but she already knew that. She wanted the chance to watch Marlea’s reflection.

“It must be hard to be treated like a pet by a man you can never have. He’s mine, you know. But it’s nice for AJ to have a pet, even if it can’t perform.”

“It must be even harder to know that whatever you did turned his heart from you, and you can’t find a way to turn it back.”

Bianca’s eyes went flat and reptilian. “You don’t know me like that, little girl. You don’t want to start a fight with me; you don’t have the ammunition.” Bianca’s tone was deadly, her meaning clear. “I always get what I want, and I want AJ Yarborough.”

“People in hell want ice water.” Marlea said the words, then had to force herself not to try to feed the borrowed tube of lipstick to the evil woman walking past her and out of the powder room. “And you can’t have AJ. I won’t let you.”

“As if you have a choice.”

Marlea had a clear vision of herself shoving Bianca’s head through the mirror, and she was still holding onto it when Rissa pushed through the door to find a hard-breathing Marlea standing in the midst of Victorian porcelain and gilt splendor. “I just saw Bianca slink out of here. What’s wrong?” she asked cautiously.

“I just met Bianca Coltrane.”

Oh, hell. No wonder she looks like she’s ready to breathe fire. Wonder what that witch had to say?
Not sure what to say, Rissa took the lipstick from Marlea’s hand and dropped it into her small evening bag.

“I’m ready to go home.”

Okay, so whatever she said, it was about AJ—like I didn’t already know that would be the case.
She handed the bag to Marlea and felt insane relief when she took it.

“Marlea.” Rissa’s hand was cool and firm when she touched Marlea’s arm, betraying none of what was in her heart. “If you leave now, she wins. You give her all she wants. You become the weak little nobody that she can push around anytime she wants to—and I know that’s not who you are. You have to stay. Suck it up, work that winning smile of yours, get drunk if you have to, but don’t leave, and don’t let that gold-digging heifer win.”

“I’m staying—until she leaves. Then I’ll be ready to go.” Straightening her shoulders, Marlea lifted her head and deliberately arranged her face. She could still see the mean veneer of smarmy self-congratulation cross Bianca’s perfect face before she swept from the powder room. When she looked harder, she could see the fine cracks in Bianca’s façade. On closer inspection, Marlea could name what she saw leaking through.

Fear.

It must be hard to be treated like a pet by a man you can never have. He’s mine, you know. But it’s nice for AJ to have a pet, even if it can’t perform.

The words were harsh, but Marlea knew the lie when it shattered against a wall of her determination. Marlea headed for the door with Rissa hard on her heels. “That woman is only afraid of what she can’t be sure of, and she knows that I touch a part of AJ she can never reach.” Hand on the door, Marlea put on brakes and faced Rissa.

“What?”

“You know her.” Marlea’s voice was low. “Is she a runner?”

“Does a chicken have lips?” Rissa blew amused air. “No!”

“Then that’s what she’s afraid of. “ Marlea pulled the door open and stepped into the reception’s bright din. “It’s what she thinks he loves about me. It’s what she can never give him. She only wins if I don’t run—and I’m running.”

“Running?” Rissa smiled apologies at the people she brushed against in her rush to follow Marlea. “After AJ?”

“This damned race.” Marlea said, and renewed fire swirled deep in the whisky gold of her eyes. “I’m running.”

Chapter 22

“AJ, I want to do the race, too.” Sitting on the stone wall surrounding the terrace, Marlea laced her shoes and looked ready for the challenge. “I won’t try to run much, no more than I can do comfortably. I’ll walk if I have to.”

“Yeah, I can just see that, you walking anywhere you can run.” AJ pulled the laces tight on his shoes. He took longer than necessary tying them and refused to face her. “The race is tomorrow. You’ve been here for six weeks, and you just started running distance again. Do you really think we’ve trained well enough?”

“Man, AJ,” Marlea countered, her eyes sweeping the blue sky, “you really want to try to hard sell me on that? Two to four hours a day in the gym? Every day? Five miles, three times a week? All the walk-running I’ve done? Running with Rissa?” She smiled slyly. “All the walking we’ve done—together?”

Marlea thought about putting on her specially padded running shoes and climbing the wooded acreage surrounding the house. She thought back to how secure she felt when AJ took her hand to help her over some obstacle, back to what they had shared on those walks.
We’ve talked about everything on those walks, including Bianca Coltrane.
According to AJ, she was beautiful and smart.

I would sure like to give him an earful, tell him what I think of her.
But deep in her heart, Marlea knew she would never tell him about her encounter with Bianca.
I wonder if Rissa said anything?
Looking at AJ under a cloudless blue sky, with a soft breeze touching them, she guessed that AJ’s sister had somehow found the strength of will and character to keep her mouth shut—for a change.

But AJ is a smart man.
It was hard to understand how Bianca’s real personality got by him. Driven and goal-oriented, he called her.
More like cold and calculating when Rissa told it, though.
Even Mrs. Baldwin in a weak moment said that the woman had a cash register for a heart and an ATM for a soul
.

Frowning, AJ was still lecturing. “Walking is not running, especially not under the Georgia sun. This is still September, and the day is subject to break hot.”

“Come on, AJ, I’ve been outside before.”

AJ looked dubious.

“Before you say no,” Marlea rushed on, “I talked to Libby and told her about the reception last night. She said she was sorry she missed it. I also told her that I wanted to run this race, and she agreed. She said I was probably ready to tackle something harder.”

“She probably did, but she doesn’t work with you every day like I do.” AJ stood and pulled the Nike sweatshirt over his head. Balling it up, he dropped it at his feet and began to stretch. “Libby is guessing long-distance.”

“But she’s right,” Marlea insisted. “I’ve done three- and five-mile runs with Rissa and Dench and did just fine. And I’ve walked the malls and a couple of tracks with Jeanette and Connie. They’re nurses. They would have said something if I had shown any sign of trouble.”

“They’re not runners.” He was adamant.

“I can do better than six miles on the treadmill, and I can do it at better than five miles per hour. AJ, you know that even with programming, the treadmill is a sanitized course, nothing like a real outdoor course, and you wanted me to gain confidence.” She took a deep breath. “I can do this, AJ. I know I can.” She blew out hard and waited.

“Let me think about it,” he said, jogging off the terrace.

“Don’t think too long! The race is tomorrow,” Marlea yelled at his back.

“He’s gonna say no, you know.”

“What makes you so sure, Rissa?”

“You.” She stretched her long legs and nodded in the direction AJ had gone. “That man? My brother? Honey, he’s falling…No, I take that back. He has already fallen so hard for you that he’s afraid.”

“Afraid?” Marlea looked hard at the woman in the three-striped sweatpants and matching shirt. “Not AJ. He’s one of the bravest souls I’ve ever met. He’s not afraid of anything—least of all me.”

“Believe that if you want to. He’s afraid of losing you.”

Marlea swung her legs to the terrace floor and stood shifting from foot to foot, testing her shoes. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” Dench said from his place by the terrace door. “She couldn’t be more right if she had to be.”

Rissa brought her palms together in soft applause. “Well said by the brother in the corner. I’m a lawyer, girl. You know I do my research.”

“Then what are we going to do about it, because I’m going to run that race, start to finish.” Marlea couldn’t help it; challenge cut her heart when she heard Bianca’s words infiltrating her mind again.
“It must be hard to be treated like a pet by a man you can never have, but it’s nice for AJ to have a pet, even if it can’t perform.”
Intentionally cruel, the hateful words bore a threat she couldn’t ignore.

But I’m going to have the last laugh. I’m going to run the hell out of this race.
“How are you going to help me?” Marlea demanded, approaching Rissa.

“Slow your roll there, sister.” Dench came close and rested a protective hand on Rissa’s shoulder. “If you register, even late, I’ll bet he’ll know about it. You have to have a number to run and if you try to get one, he’ll know about it. I can’t think of anybody you can ask, at this late date, either.”

“There’s you.” Light suddenly shone in Marlea’s eyes. “You have a number, and you don’t really want to run, do you?”

“AJ wouldn’t like that,” Dench drawled.

“But who’s going to tell him?” Rissa grinned, pulling her feet into the chair and hugging her knees. “I know what you’re thinking, and I can so keep this to myself.”

Thinking fast, Marlea dropped into the chair beside Rissa’s. Looking up at Dench, she hummed. “You two don’t run together, do you?”

“No way. He’s seeded and usually way up in the crowd. I’m back with the sluggers and plodders.”

“Sluggers and plodders?” Rissa made a face. “Nice to know you think so highly of me, sweetie.”

He gave Rissa’s shoulder a squeeze. “Present company excluded.”

“I’ll settle for plodding. Can I have the number?”

Unconvinced, Dench shook his head. “I don’t know, Marlea. What if AJ is right and you haven’t trained enough. What if you can’t make it?”

“Come on, Dench. I can make it; I know I can.”

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll run with her,” Rissa volunteered. “I’ll stay with her every step of the way.”

“Like you can keep up with me,” Marlea sneered.

“Go ahead, bite the hand that feeds you. I’m just trying to help you out, but if you think I run too slow, and you don’t think my help is…”

“No, Rissa, no! I never meant anything bad. Run with me, please run with me.”

Her pride salved, Rissa relented. “Since you’re begging…”

“What’s in it for me?” Dench was in a bargaining mood, and Rissa’s grin was sly when she placed her hand over his on her shoulder. “Oh, well, you want the number, Marlea, you got it. How we gonna make the switch?”

“Easy.” Rissa obviously enjoyed plotting. “We’ll all dress and head for the race, just as we planned, but we’re going to run late. I’ll figure out something to stall us. We don’t need a lot of time, about ten minutes ought to do it. Once we’re there, Marlea and I will hang back at the car, doing girl stuff. AJ will become impatient and run off to handle whatever it is he’s supposed to do. Plus, as you said, he’s seeded. He’ll never see you hand over the number, and by the time he finds us at the finish line, she will have run and what can he say then?”

“Cool. Sounds like it’ll work.” Dench looked at Marlea. “But why are you willing to go to such lengths to run a race?”

Because I am not a pet.
Marlea shrugged. “Part of me wants to do the run as a personal challenge, but another part of me would be lying if I didn’t admit that I want to do it as a surprise for AJ.”

“And she met Bianca at the reception,” Rissa blabbed.

“Mouth like a sieve,” Marlea sighed. “Yeah, I met her and she made it sound as though my not being able to run made me less of a person.” Biting the inside of her lip, Marlea kept the rest of Bianca’s words to herself.

“Don’t let her push your buttons like that,” Dench counseled.

“No, it’s not about her. This run is for me.”

* * *

“He looked at you funny, but AJ never said a word about you being dressed out. My brother can be so oblivious sometimes.”

Trying to stifle the tremor of excitement that threatened to make her scream, Marlea pulled at the snaps on her windpants, then stepped free of them. She made a stab at folding them before tossing them on the jeep’s back seat. “I can’t believe your plan actually worked.”

“The beauty of simplicity,” Rissa smiled, reaching for the safety pins she had gone back to the house to collect, thus causing the ten-minute delay in AJ’s schedule. “Can you believe he was so ticked off with me that he just ran off without a backward glance?”

“Leaving this for you,” Dench grinned, handing over his race number.

Marlea’s fingers trembled when she took it from him. Reverently pressing the sheet against her shirt, she accepted pins from Rissa. Once her number was secure, she looked up at both of them, tears in her eyes. “Thank you. Both of you.”

“Girl, you’re going to make me cry.” Rissa folded her into a hug.

Dench couldn’t help joining in. “You’d better hurry and find your time group if you don’t want to miss your race.” He sniffed and stepped back. Planting his hands in the small of his back, he looked skyward. “Good luck.”

“He’s a big ol’ softy,” Rissa whispered, keeping an eye out for AJ.

Finding their place behind the starting banner, Marlea had only a second or two to cherish the excitement of the race. Granted this was slower and longer than her beloved 400, but it was a race, and adrenaline shot through her veins in a hot rush.

“Runners, take your mark…”

Shaking off anything that had nothing to do with the run, she planted her right foot and prayed for the all-important balance that would carry her over the distance. Coiling her body, she gave her foot a twist, digging the toe of her shoe into position.

“Get set…”

Breathe…find the rhythm, hold the balance.

“…go!”

The banner fell, trampled instantly by eager feet, but Marlea was more than ready, as her body broke free. Long legs working with hydraulic precision, Rissa at her side, her feet found their path. Marlea could hear her own breathing and feel the gravel crunching beneath her feet.

A mile into the run, Rissa looked across at Marlea. If there was a problem, she couldn’t tell. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine.”

Three miles later, the answer was the same, and Rissa wondered if she was the only woman running through Welcome All park wishing that the race was over.

Marlea’s answers were automatic because Rissa’s questions barely registered. Her feet, trained for more years than she could count, ran where she directed them. Her thoughts ignored her control and ran straight to AJ.

Great day for a run, clear skies, not too hot. Wonder what his time will be? I know he’s slowed down, and runs about an eight-minute mile.
She checked the steel-banded chronometer on her wrist.
We’re an hour into this race, which means he should be finished.
Curving along the asphalt turn of the street encircling the park, a bit of memory brought a flash of AJ and the first time she had seen him.

Funny, that day was a 10K, too. I never saw him until he fell out of nowhere and into my life.
She smiled and remembered caramel skin, closely barbered dark hair, and a neat mustache over a nice…no, that day, nothing about him was nice—the big sweaty oaf!

Even features and broad shoulders and feet the size of Texas. Towering over her five feet, eight inches, he had barreled into her, knocking her flat. When her body was tangled with his, he seemed all broad shoulders and long, strong-muscled legs.
And as bad as it seemed then, things have changed…fate sure does have a sense of humor.

Her breath pulled tight through her nose and rushed out past her open lips. Her mouth felt dry and her lips were parched. Her feet burned and she was pretty sure they would be blistered, but her legs felt as though she could run for an eternity.

Abuse, complaint, a
nd agony
, Rissa thought, hating Marlea just a little when she sprinted up the hill ahead of her.
Ninety minutes of my life that I will never see again, and I’m running behind a woman! But I guess it was worth it.
All she could see of Marlea was her back as she took the turn toward the finish line.

Her feet slapped the ground, but her pulse was still racing as she crossed the finish line, and Marlea wondered if AJ was right about the training.
Man, I’m sucking wind like a…

“We did it,” Rissa exalted, slapping an arm around Marlea’s sweaty shoulders. “Ooh, girl, we did it.” Grinning and laughing, she hugged Marlea. “I must really like you to do something like this. I don’t work this hard at my real job.”

Marlea hugged back and checked her chronometer over Rissa’s shoulder. “And we did it in less than ninety minutes, that’s…uh-oh…” Her arms fell and her face grew wary.

“What?” Rissa turned to find the imposing shadow of her big brother’s presence darkening her optimism. “Uh-oh.”

“What the hell were you thinking, running 6.2 miles on a new shoe?”

Though their mouths opened, neither of the women could find words in the face of AJ’s anger.

“And you let them, helped them to do this?” he said, turning to Dench. “You know better!”

“They’re grown.” Dench shrugged and yawned, making it abundantly clear that he couldn’t have cared less.

“Let me speak for both of us.” Walking backward, facing her brother, Rissa threw both hands into the air. “As far as Dench and I are concerned, we did you both a big favor. You wanted to be sure that Marlea could go back to her life, now you know she can. She wanted to run again, and now she knows she can. What’s the problem?”

His sister’s words hit home. AJ stopped walking and shook his head. He checked the runners still crossing the finish line and then looked at Marlea. His gaze and voice softened. “You ran the whole race?” She nodded, and he did the time and distance math. “Pretty good time. How do you feel?”