Leo's Chance(7)

She’s quiet for a minute before replying blankly, "I see. What exactly did Leo tell you about me?"

Not only am I hating myself for sitting here lying, but also the fact that she seems somewhat unmoved by the fact that I just told her I died is playing serious havoc with my heart. I’m having a hard time focusing solely on her though and not my feelings of regret over my dishonesty, so my read could be off.

"Just that he knew you in foster care and you were special to him. He said you lost touch but he'd always wondered about how your life turned out. That's really all."

I see her face flinch very slightly and I know that was a sucky thing to say. How would I feel if someone told me that Evie casually wondered how my life had turned out, but not enough to bother ever contacting me herself? I’m trudging through a river of shit of my own making. But it’s either this or tell her the truth and watch her turn away in disgust. Either way, I’m f*cked. At least this way, I’m sitting next to her on a step, memorizing her beautiful features up close and breathing in her fresh, very slightly flowery scent. God, I’m a selfish prick.

"I moved here in June, but it took me a couple months to settle in. Then I finally had the time to dedicate to being the creepster I had promised to be." I attempt a smile, hoping like hell to make her smile too. She looks so lost.

She offers me a small smile in return and stands up. I jump up next to her. She wipes her hands on her jean clad thighs and says quietly, "I'm sorry to hear about Leo. It doesn't sound like you know a lot about our history, but Leo is someone who… broke a promise to me. It happened a long time ago, and I don't think about him anymore. There was no reason for him to send you to check on me. If he wanted to know how my life turned out, he should have contacted me himself before… well, before.

"All the same, it was nice of you to keep your word to your friend. And now you've done your job. Here I am, fine and dandy. Mission accomplished. Dying wish fulfilled." She smiles a small smile but it looks forced. Her words gut me and I almost physically reel back. Her indifference, feigned or not, kills.

"By the way, who do I have the pleasure of calling my own personal, creepy stalker?" she asks.

I find it in myself to smile, even though I’m still hurting from her previous words. "Jake Madsen." I watch her face closely for any sign of recognition. I don’t think I ever mentioned my adoptive parent’s last name but I can’t remember for sure.

No sign of recognition appears on her face. "Well, Jake Madsen, a.k.a. creepy stalker, obviously you already know that I'm Evelyn Cruise. And you already know to call me Evie." She reaches her hand out to shake mine and when we touch, I feel the electricity jump to life against our touching skin. That same chemistry that we had when we were teenagers is still there. I want to grin with happiness at this undeniable proof of the connection between us, but I contain myself, simply staring at our clasped hands until she pulls away.

"Bye, Jake," she says, turning away.

"Evie!" I call, and she turns around. "You're gonna miss me, aren't you?" I’m smiling because there’s no way she’s going to miss me – I’m not going away. Annnnd… cue creepy stalker music. Fuck it. I don’t care.

"You know, Jake, I think I will." She smiles a small smile and turns around and walks away.





CHAPTER 6


I head back to my office and when I pull into my assigned parking spot in the underground garage, I realize that I don’t even recall any portion of the drive. My brain is going over every second of my run-in with Evie. So much of me feels intense guilt for lying, but part of me is on a high for the time I spent close to her, brief though it was. I’ve waited what feels like a lifetime for the moment when I could feel her and know her presence in my life again. I’ll have to tell her the truth, obviously, and, God I dread that. Just the thought of it chills my blood instantly. But if I’m going to explain why I never contacted her, I need to make sure that she cares enough to stay while I spew out my f*cked up story. And then I’ll just have to pray to God that she can find it in herself to forgive me. I bang my head against the seat back. After a few minutes, I sit up and get out of my car.

I pull my suit coat back on and head into the glass elevator that takes me to my office. I stop at the reception desk in the lobby on my floor, smiling at Christine, my receptionist.

Christine is in her forties, married with a son and a daughter in junior high school. She and I don’t know each other outside the office, but I can tell by the way she talks about her husband and her kids that they’re her world and that there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for them. She’s everything to them that I had hoped Lauren would be to me when I moved to San Diego.

"Hey, there," she greets me, smiling back, tucking her chin length auburn hair behind her ear.

"Hey. How are you? What’d I miss?"

"I’m great! Nothing exciting going on around here. You gonna tell me where you’ve been disappearing to so much lately or what? You’ve had a gleam in your eye for a week now. There’s a good story there. I can feel it." She rubs her manicured hands together and grins.

I lean forward on the counter above her and look around as if checking to make sure no one else is around. She leans in toward me, eyes wide. "Christine," I lower my voice and look around one more time for effect. "Can I have my messages?"