The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (120 page)

Evan, always the consummate host, leaves the boys to get everyone cold beer from the cooler on the deck.  He takes a slight detour and heads straight toward me for a quick kiss.  As he turns to walk away, I call to him, “Thank you.”

He turns in his tracks and looks at me in confusion.  “Thank me?  For what?”

“For today.  For our first Thanksgiving as a family.  For everything.”

Evan sweeps me up in his arms and squeezes me tight.  “I love you, future wife.”

“I love you, future husband.  Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Yes, it was.”

A Double Take

I
t’s Friday, but the restaurant is quiet today.  I suppose everyone is still stuffed from yesterday’s marathon eating.  Besides, most people have enough leftovers to feed their family for at least a week.  If it were warmer, perhaps more people would venture to the boardwalk to get some exercise, but not today.  It’s cold, dreary, and starting to rain.

We’re running on a skeleton crew.  Much of the staff is still visiting with family.  Derek’s behind the bar, Reese is in the kitchen, and Lindsay is the only one on the floor.  Emmy is on my mind today.  They should be on their way to see Adam’s family by now.  I can’t help but wonder what kind of reaction they’ll receive.  I’ve never met his family, so there’s no way to know.  I’m certain Emmy can handle it, no matter what.

Marcus will be here later for the second shift, leaving me to oversee everything until then.  There’s plenty to keep me busy, since it’s Friday, and that means inventory and stock. 

Derek keeps me company while I set up a booth for today’s meeting with Daisy Shea.  I have a binder full of ideas – clippings from magazines, mostly.  There are also lists, lots of them.  Song choices.  Flowers in season.  Guest lists.  Bands, caterers, and venues.  Registry listings.  I have lists of lists.  I place a pitcher of lemon-cucumber water and two wine glasses on the table.  It looks perfect.

Auggie sends me a text at eleven thirty, wishing me luck and warning me.  If I have any hopes of getting married this February, I should do my best to win over Daisy Shea.  There are no other event planners in the area with her expertise and availability.  It’s do or die.

I’m both nervous and excited.  According to Auggie, she’s the best on the East Coast.  He’s told her she’ll be handling the wedding of a pair of restaurateurs, Thomas and Evangeline, as in Evan Thomas and Juliette Evangeline.  It’s ironic that we’ve reverted to using our middle names to protect our privacy, since Evan used his middle name to hide his true identity from me when we first met. I suppose it’s fitting to use it again now. 

While I wait, I go back to my office to call in some orders for next week.  As I page through the liquor inventory Derek left on my desk, my phone rings with Lady Antebellum’s “I Run to You,” and I know right away that it’s Evan calling.  He’s at practice right now, so it must be important.  “Hey there, Bossy Man.  What’s shakin’, bacon?”

“Well, you sound like you’re in a good mood.  I was just calling to wish you luck with the wedding planner.  I want you to call me as soon as she leaves, okay?”  He’s so sweet and thoughtful.

“I won’t forget.”

“Oh, one more thing.  Someone from Community Relations is going to call you.  Her name is Alyssa and she’s trying to arrange for some players to attend a charity function in a few weeks.”

Now I’m intrigued.  “What kind of function?” I ask.

“Baby, I don’t know.  That’s why I told her to call you.  Find out if it’s something you’d like to attend.  I usually go to five or six of these things a year.  We can’t go to them all – sometimes we have to say no.  But this one’s in Manhattan and we can keep close to home.”  I hear some shouting in the background.  The team must be getting restless.  “Listen, baby, I’ve got to run.  Good luck.  Love you.”

“Love you too!”  I hang up and run out front to check to see if she’s here yet.  Derek is alone at the bar watching the Sports Channel.  I look around and the place is still pretty empty.

Derek notices me scanning the room, and he offers, “Not yet.  Go finish what you were doing and I’ll come back and get you when she arrives.”

I nod in agreement and go back to my office.  I’m swiping through my list of contacts, looking for our liquor distributor, when my phone rings.  It’s a number I don’t recognize, with a New Jersey area code.

“Hello?” I answer.

“I’m looking for Juliette Fletcher.  This is Alyssa Dunham from the New Jersey Sentinels’ Community Relations Office.”  This is the call Evan warned me about.

“This is Juliette.  How can I help you?”

Alyssa tells me that Evan and I have been invited to attend the Unicef Snowflake Ball.  It’s a charity event and silent gift auction.  She rambles off the names of countless celebrities who have committed to attending. 

Suddenly there’s a knock on the door and Derek peeks his head in.  It seems like my appointment has arrived a few minutes early.  I ask Alyssa to hold so I can see what Derek wants.  “Jette, you’re not going to believe this, but ... ”

I immediately cut him off, “Derek, please.  Go.  Entertain her.  Keep her occupied.  Don’t let her leave.  I’ll be there in five minutes.  Do this for me.”

Rather than help, he argues with me, “But you ... ”

I implore him with my eyes, “Derek, please?!  Five minutes?”

He nods and I return to my conversation with Alyssa.  It sounds like a very worthy charity.  Last July, I wasn’t able to go with Evan to the ESPYs.  It would have been my first red carpet event.  Although I got to see Evan all dressed up on television, I didn’t get to see him in person.  When I imagine what he must look like in a tuxedo, my mind is made up.

For the next few minutes, Alyssa goes over the details and I take furious notes.  She tells me about the date and time, the workings of a silent auction, the limousine service she’ll arrange for us, and the location of the event.  It sounds like a magical night.  Evan told me the choice was mine to make, and now I’m starting to get excited.

I’m floating on cloud nine when I emerge.  I look over at the booth I’ve set up, but it’s empty.  How long was I on the phone for?  I look at my watch and it was definitely no more than ten minutes.  Surely Derek could entertain my guest for at least that long. 

I look toward the bar and I find her sitting on a barstool talking animatedly with Derek.  The woman sitting there is exotic and beyond gorgeous.  Her voluminous black hair falls to the small of her back and her bronze skin glows.  When she looks up at me with her almond-shaped eyes and sultry smile, my heart stops.  This woman is the spitting image of Laci Keilani.  Only it can’t be Laci.  She died in a fiery helicopter crash last August.

She immediately gets up and walks toward me, hand outstretched.  Frozen in place, I just stand there dumbfounded.  The closer she gets, the more haunting the resemblance.  Numbly, I raise my hand to shake.  With her other hand, she offers me a business card.  “Hello, Evangeline.  It’s great to finally meet you.  I’ve heard such lovely things about you and Thomas from your friend August.  Please, take my card.  Let’s sit and chat.”

I nod and lead her toward the booth I’ve set up.  As she scoots in, I glance down at the card and notice the name imprinted reads
Shea Keilani, Wedding Consultant
.  Daisy Shea Events”.  My wheels are spinning.  I’m trying furtively to put the pieces together.

“You’ve got that look.  I get it a lot.  Let me explain,” she offers.  “My twin sister, Laci, was a reporter on television.  We were twins.  She died last summer.”  As she talks, I can see some stark differences between the two.  Both are strikingly beautiful, but there’s a gentle kindness in Shea’s eyes.  Laci’s eyes were more determined and icy.

“I’m sorry,” I stutter.  “I thought I was meeting with Daisy Shea today.  I didn’t realize ... ”

“Yes, that happens, too.  Daisy Milano is my business partner.  She does the corporate events, and I specialize in weddings.  We formed Daisy Shea Events about four years ago.  I understand you have an event you’d like some help planning.”  She smiles warmly at me and I know in an instant she is not the same ice queen as her sister.

Derek comes over to the table with the unfinished drink Shea left at the bar.  He hands it to her, grinning like a schoolboy.  Derek really can be sweet and charming when he wants to be.  “Is there anything I can get you ladies?  I can have the kitchen whip up an appetizer platter if you’d like.”

“Sure, Derek, that sounds fine,” I tell him.  He fills our water glasses and excuses himself.  I can see Shea staring up at him as she spreads an array of brochures and albums across the table.  Glancing at the photographs she has laid on the table, I know in an instant that she can give me my dream wedding. 

“Let me start by offering my condolences for the loss of your sister.  It must have been a terrible shock.”

A sadness appears on her face, the tragedy still fresh, even these months later. “Thank you.  Our family is still grieving.  It’s not easy losing a sister, especially a twin.”  She takes a big gulp of her wine and then regains her composure.  “Tell me about your wedding.”

“Well, my fiancé and I ran across a few obstacles trying to plan our wedding.  Details kept getting leaked to the press, and the last thing we need is for our special day to be ruined by onlookers and paparazzi.  We were hoping you could make the arrangements for us without using our names.”

She looks at me quizzically, unsure what to make of my declaration.  “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.  Do you get attention from the paparazzi often?”

“Well, they usually leave me alone unless I’m out with my fiancé.  He plays in the NFL.  I should introduce myself properly.  My name is Juliette
Evangeline
Fletcher and my fiancé’s name is –”

“Evan
Thomas
McGuire,” she answers flatly, finishing my sentence for me.  But as she does, the color drains from her face, taking away all traces of her smile.  She begins muttering to herself as she gathers up her things.  “I can’t do this.  I shouldn’t be here.  I’m sorry.  I have to leave.”  She bumps the table as she tries to get up quickly, knocking over our glasses and spilling water all over our table.  I scramble to get my binder safely away from the trailing water.

“I don’t understand,” I protest.  She’s shoving her things into her bag and is ready to high-tail it right out our door. 

I’m helpless to stop her.  In the few moments it takes me to gather my precious belongings, she’s gone.  She’s out the door, taking with her all my hopes of a dream wedding.

Derek arrives at my table with our appetizers.  He is stunned, confused, and clearly disappointed.  “Jette, what happened?  What did you say?”

“Derek, I swear, I didn’t say a word.  I never had a chance to say anything.  When I admitted to her who we really are, she freaked out and ran out the door.”  I sit back down and slump down into my seat.

Derek helps me clean up the mess.  He takes the glasses back to the bar and Lindsay takes away the uneaten food.  He’s halfway to our table with a mop bucket when the door opens and a sopping wet Shea Keilani reenters, looking frazzled and defeated.

Speaking to no one in particular, she mumbles, “It’s raining.  I dropped my phone in a puddle looking for my keys.”  She stifles a whimper and adds, “And now my car won’t start.”

“Derek, go help her,” I urge.  “Drive her home and talk to her.  See if you can get her to change her mind and come back tomorrow.  Find out what has her so freaked out.”

He nods and leaves the mop with me as he walks directly over to Shea, grabbing a clean bar towel along the way.  I’m not sure what he says to her, but she nods in agreement.  Derek pulls out a chair at the closest table and helps her sit down while he gathers his keys and his phone.  She turns so she has her back to me, clearly avoiding looking in my direction.

Derek rushes over to me with his wallet in hand.  “I’ll call you when I know something.”  And just like that, off he goes.  What the hell just happened?

I send text messages to Auggie and Evan, trying my best to play down the fiasco.  I tell them that the first meeting went well and she’s going to check her calendar to see when we can meet again.  I haven’t heard back from Derek, so I really don’t know what’s happening.

I try my best to make heads or tails of the situation.  All I can piece together that Shea and Laci were twins – they must have shared many secrets with each other.  I don’t know what, but Laci had some sort of unfinished business with Evan.  Perhaps she felt jilted.  Maybe she felt used and discarded.  Laci came to the restaurant once and tried to warn me about Evan, so I know she didn’t think very highly of him.  As her sister, Shea must also have a negative opinion of Evan, even though they’ve never met.  But Derek is a charmer.  If anyone can get her to change her mind, it’s him.

By the time Marcus arrives to relieve me, I’m starting to feel better.  I’m positive that Shea overreacted because the loss of her sister is still so fresh.  She probably thinks helping someone her sister disliked would be disloyal to her memory. 

Nearly every hot-blooded American woman in the world is infatuated with the handsome quarterback Evan McGuire.  How is it possible that I get the only female on the planet who seems to have a strong dislike for my man?