Regan Harris Box Set Page 3

  People waved as I jogged past. I raised my hand in return, also checking my watch for distance. I forgot my phone, and the GPS wasn’t as accurate, but the display showed a mile and a half. I wouldn’t quite reach my three-mile standard by the time I got back to Peter’s, but it’d be close enough.

  I walked the last five blocks for a cool down. I was stinky and sweaty but felt much more myself. I should’ve gone for a run the minute my plane touched down. I needed it to help clear my confusion over Gray, too. I’d need a lot more running to clear that confusion, but every little bit helped.

  Peter was waiting for me with the door open when I returned. I trudged up the stairs, hoping he was alone. Peter, I could handle. Two or three against me and I’d probably go down.

  “Go get your suit on. It’s that kind of night.” He closed the door after I passed through. I didn’t argue with him. He was right. It was that kind of night.

  I changed into a swimsuit and met him on the rooftop deck. He’d beaten me there. The hot tub was open and bubbling. Peter sat in the corner with a bottle of red wine and two glasses on the ledge. I slid in without saying a word, taking my regular spot in the opposite corner.

  Late nights enjoying the hot tub was a time-honored tradition. We’d shared countless secrets here over the years. We’d argued or cried, sometimes both, and worked through life’s issues on this rooftop. It’d been our safety net for years. I hid at the lake, I opened up and poured my heart out here.

  We shared a bottle of wine, both facing the view of the downtown area. Street noises found their way up here, but it was more like background music with soft honks of car horns and wordless chatter. Every so often a yell pierced through.

  “Jax called me,” Peter said as he handed me a glass of wine.

  “Hm.” The run may have cleared my head, but not my bratty behavior.

  “I told her to let you be tonight. You’d call her tomorrow. Or not. Your choice.”

  Thank you, I thought. I didn’t say it, but I acknowledged Peter’s gift with a nod.

  “By your choice, I mean you are going to.” I should’ve known I wouldn’t get off that easy. I changed the subject.

  “Since you have heard about my bad behavior, what did you do tonight?” I asked.

  “I called a staff meeting downtown, took everyone for a drink. Just wanted everyone to know when we’d reopen and what to expect.”

  “Good idea.”

  “We finished off with a toast to Anya.”

  “And you? How are you?” I asked.

  “I’ll figure that out later. I need to worry about the staff right now.” Peter sipped his wine and stared out at the city. My glass sat untouched next to me. I played with the water, causing little splashes.

  “How I wish I had seen you throw that beer! Little Miss lost her cool, huh?” Peter used a sing-song voice.

  I gave myself a moment to laugh. What a ridiculous situation. “I must’ve looked like a lunatic. Some strange girl sitting with them, not even participating in the conversation, and then, bam, freak out.” I laughed harder now. “I enjoyed watching every drop fall on him. I’d do it again.”

  Peter joined in my laughter. I would apologize to Jax tomorrow. Or the next day. Peter couldn’t actually force me.

  “Jax said you didn’t know him.”

  “Oh, I know him alright. Or, well, knew him. Quite well.”

  “Care to share?”

  “You’re a poet—” I started.

  “-and don’t know it.” Peter finished.

  “Remember Benjamin William Jackson, the third?” At Peter’s nod, I continued. “Apparently, he goes by Ben now.” I gave him a moment to connect the dots. It only took Peter a second before the light bulb popped on. His face visibly brightened.

  “You should’ve dumped a whole pitcher on him! Let’s go back! Maybe he’s still there!” Peter pretended to get out of the water. I laughed with Peter, but I knew he was joking. About going back, anyway. Probably not about using a whole pitcher of beer.

  “You know, you’ll have to tell Jax tomorrow.” Sheesh, man. Let it go, but I placated him. It was only one little white lie.

  “I know. But, I don’t have to think about it now.” I leaned back against the side and slid down until my chin hit the water. I wanted to submerge myself and hide.

  “When are you going to see your mom?”

  “You are the grim reaper of bad reminders. Can’t we talk about something—anything—good?” I loved my mom, but she was old school. I needed a day or two to prepare myself for the lecture. I heard the same lines every time. Get a real job. Stop living in sin. I raised you better. Peter must’ve decided to give me a break because he changed the subject without further badgering me to talk to Jax or to see my mom.

  “Did Jax tell you her good news?” I thought about our chat at the Dark Horse. She mentioned she had been painting more, and a few dates, but nothing that would fall into the category of good news. Just the same old stuff.

  “She quit working for me.”

  “She did? Where is she working now? Is that why she didn’t go to your meeting?” I sat up a little straighter, pulling my chin from the water.

  “An agent noticed her art. She’s painting full-time now. Even got a few commissioned gigs. She’s making a living from it.”

  “That’s great news. I wonder why Jax didn’t mention it.”

  “Same reason you don’t talk about things, I guess.” Peter looked away with innocence.

  “What’s that mean?” My tone came across sharper than I intended, but Peter kept his casual.

  “You are both chickens. Jax puts her heart and soul into a painting. She’s terrified of a bad review.”

  “She shouldn’t be. Her paintings are great,” I said.

  “Art is subjective.” Peter sipped his wine.

  Jaxon Hayes had been painting since she could hold a brush. I loved her work. The paintings were fun and original. I could see how the subject matter wouldn’t appeal to everyone, but the quality was there.

  “And what about me? How am I a chicken?”

  “Like you don’t know.” Peter topped off his glass. He leaned back and looked at the night sky. “It’s looking a little gray out tonight.”

  How subtle.

  I ignored the barb and tried to enjoy the hot tub. We sat and laughed together until the wine was gone. Peter would have a headache tomorrow. He didn’t even notice that I wasn’t drinking. I headed to bed, feeling much brighter and lighter than I had felt in a few days. I managed to sleep through the night. Between the travel time and the hard run, I was physically exhausted. Between Gray and Ben, I was emotionally drained. Sleep was a reprieve.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, I heard the door open to my room, but instead of acknowledging the person, I pulled the covers up over my head. My bed was too comfortable to leave just yet. Maybe the intruder would shut the door and give me some peace.

  I never heard the telltale squeak of the door hinges closing. There was a soft shuffle, and then the thuds as someone took two steps before the bed jerked and bounced from the extra weight flung on it. I groaned in response.

  “Get up. It’s time to face the firing squad.”

  I groaned louder and tightened my hold on the blankets. It was a futile attempt. Jax was persistent. She wiggled across the bed until she lay on top of me.

  “I will smother you if you don’t do as I say.” Her hands patted each of my cheeks through the blanket with each word. I tried to swat at her, but she had my arms trapped beneath her.

  “Then you won’t find out why I did it. You’re too nosy to let that go unanswered,” I said.

  “True. Not as nosy as you, but I’m still dying to know.” The pressure against me eased as she shifted her weight. It could’ve been worse; she could be fifty pounds heavier. “That wasn’t your style, Regan.”

  “But, it’s yours. Is that coffee I smell?”

  “Yep. Have you been taking notes on how to act like
a lunatic? I am a great example.”

  “The watermelon throwing has set the bar for me. At least, I didn’t have to clean up this mess.” Long ago, in a fit of anger over a boyfriend, Jax had smashed a watermelon on her apartment floor. It made her feel better until she realized she was the only person to clean up the mess she’d made. She found seeds and sticky spots on the hardwood for weeks after the incident. My voice sounded jumbled through the blankets. “Was Rachel mad?”

  “Nope. We both finally closed our mouths just to reopen them and laugh.”

  “Too soon to be funny. I should be embarrassed, but I did enjoy every second of it. Now, get off.” I pushed against her and lowered the blankets after she moved. I pulled myself into a sitting position and leaned against the headboard. Jax resettled herself on her side next to me, head propped up in her hand. She was wearing a long, peasant-style skirt and tank top. I envied people like her. She looked stylish and comfortable. I would look like I was planning to scrounge through trash cans for the day.

  “Speak.” She waved her free hand in a ‘get-on-with-it’ way. I took a deep breath, trying to decide where to start. My fingers kneaded the blanket.

  “Ben and I used to live together. When I was in college. Only he wasn’t Ben then. He was known as Benjamin William Jackson, the third. How pretentious, right? The name should’ve been my first red flag.” I brushed the hair away from my face that had escaped my bun while I slept. Jax got up from the bed and walked toward the door. She picked up two to-go cups from Caribou Coffee. The cup was still hot to the touch when she handed it to me. My mouth watered at the thought of a Mocha. I’d missed them while traveling.

  “Drink your coffee and keep talking. You lived together, so what? Breakups happen.”

  “It wasn’t just a breakup. I was basically a kept woman.” I shuddered at the thought. Being ‘kept’ was, and always would be, my worst nightmare. Jax knew that. I needed my independence and room to breathe. “He encouraged me to quit my job and live with him. He argued that I could focus on school full-time, without the worry of bills and work. Honestly, I liked the idea. My parents stopped paying for college after I switched my major for the fourth time. They said if they wanted to throw away money, they’d just use the disposal in the sink.” I rolled my eyes at the memory.

  “Your parents are practical if nothing else.” Jax sat up to face me. “You didn’t finish anyway, so they had a point.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.” I slapped at her knee with my hand. “Do you want to hear this or not?”

  “Sorry. Keep going.”

  “I didn’t want any student loans, so I worked full-time bartending at night while taking classes and studying during the day. I liked the idea of not having to work. I was exhausted. I told myself that being on campus all day would still give me my freedom.”

  “But, how were you going to pay for school?” Jax flopped onto her stomach, now using both hands to hold her chin up. Her feet slowly kicked through the air.

  “I received a scholarship. One that I didn’t even apply for, but I was too stupid and naïve to look closer. It was a full ride, plus a stipend from the BWJ Foundation.” I took a sip of my coffee, and a soft moan escaped. “I swear I’m a moron. Come on, BWJ?”

  “Benjamin William Jackson.”

  “You’re quicker than me.” I sipped my coffee and moaned in pleasure, again. I couldn’t get enough of it.

  “So, you moved in, he paid the bills, he paid your tuition and your fun money?”

  “Yeah, you’d think that’d be warning enough, but no.”

  “What else?” Jax asked.

  “My mom didn’t like him.” Jax lowered her coffee and stared at me.

  “Your mom likes everybody. I mean ev-er-y-bo-dy.” She emphasized every syllable.

  “I know. I ignored all of the warning signs. God might as well have taken a billboard out that said, Regan, DON’T DO IT. And, that was another thing.”

  “What was?”

  “God. I was living in sin in God’s eyes. My mom lectured me up one side and down the other about not moving in with a man I wasn’t married to, how it would end badly, how I wasn’t acting any better than a trollop. I could still hear her say; I raised you better than that. It rang in my ears sometimes like a catchy song.” I stuck my finger in my ear and wiggled it.

  “Your mom is a good one for lectures. Like a dog with a bone.”

  “Ugh, ain’t that the truth. Mom harped on me that when there is no commitment to each other, then there isn’t a commitment to stay either.” I said it with my mom’s no-nonsense affectation. “The worst part? She was right. She never said ‘I told you so,’ but it was there. Every time I looked into her eyes, I could hear it.”

  “I get it, a little. You lived together, you broke up, your mom didn’t like him, but why the beer? People have relationships and then break-up. Big deal. Get over it and move on.”

  “Easy for you to say. You have lots of practice.”

  “Snide doesn’t look good on you.” Jax rearranged herself again on the bed. “Why were you so angry to see him? Was he abusive? Verbally? Did . . . did he hit you?” Jax looked at me with horror in her eyes.

  “No. Nothing like that. That I could’ve fought back against.”

  “Then, what?”

  “He just left. Adios. Hasta La Vista. Ciao. Gone. Finite. One morning, we had breakfast, I went to class, and he went . . . somewhere. Never to be seen or heard from again. Well, until last night.” My hands punctuated every word, flying through the air. I could feel my heart speeding up as I remembered that day. My coffee sloshed back and forth in the cup as I spoke. I needed to calm down. I needed to pull myself together. I set my coffee down and pulled my hair out of the elastic. The loose strands tickled my cheek from the breeze of the open window. I smoothed it back into a messy bun. The motion helped center me. I felt a little more grounded. A little less like murder.

  “Well, what did he say?” Jax slapped the bed beside her.

  “Nothing! That’s it. We had breakfast. I left. I came home to nothing. The place was empty. Furniture? Gone. Clothing? Gone. Décor? Gone.” My arms picked up their assault on the air, again. “Everything was just gone. I stood in the doorway like a zombie until I heard someone clearing their throat behind me. It was our doorman. The doorman handed me an envelope and told me my things were boxed up downstairs, ready to be moved. How humiliating. Our doorman knew before I did.”

  “That is humiliating.”

  “Um, thanks?”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’m going to kill him for you.” Her face was stone cold, her fists clenched at her sides. The coffee cup propped between her legs started to tilt. I reached out to pick it up, afraid of it spilling all over Peter’s snow-white linens.

  “Where did you go?” Jax asked.

  “Last night?”

  “No. That day. You obviously weren’t planning on moving, so where did you go?”

  “Here. To Peter’s. I worked for him before quitting. He gave me two days to cry and yell before plopping me behind the bar again. He kept my things in storage until I saved enough to get my own place. He put me back together like a puzzle.”

  “Is this why you dropped out of school?”

  “I had to. My scholarship was yanked that day. The doorman also delivered that news. The letter was in the envelope. I didn’t have enough money to pay the tuition. He took everything.” I sat back again, deflated. “And the worst part, the absolute worst part, is I’ve done it again. I gave up everything to be with Gray. I’m dependent on him financially. We basically live together in hostels. We are together morning, noon, and night. Probably more than some married couples.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Yes, sometimes, but still, yes. This time I at least have an emergency break-up fund. I guess I’ve learned something.”

  “See, you’ve learned a lot.” Jax scooted over next to me, and leaned against the headboard, too. She wrapped her arm around my neck, pulling my head down
to her shoulder. It felt good to let someone else share the burden. “Your mom loves Gray.”

  “No kidding. I think mom would trade me in for Gray, in a heartbeat.” I laughed at the thought. My mom did love Gray that much. She really may disown me and take him when she finds out I ran off.

  “Gray, later. Ben, now.”

  “What do you want to know?” I asked.

  “Did you look for him?”

  “This is pretty embarrassing.”

  “Spill it.” Jax’s gaze settled on mine. I picked at the comforter, nervously pulling on threads.

  “I didn’t know where he worked. I had never met his family. I didn’t have a place to start.”

  “Humiliated and embarrassed. Tough combo.” Jax laughed.

  “Don’t mock me. I was an idiot. I didn’t even put it together on my scholarship until Peter saw the letter sitting on the table. Up until then, I just thought I was having a really bad day.” Jax laughed harder now. I pushed away from her and stared back at her.

  “Don’t beat yourself up too badly. We are all idiots at twenty-three.”

  “And at twenty-eight. Is there something you’d like to tell me?” I changed the subject. I was tired of talking about my mistakes. “It’s your turn to man up, Jaxon Hayes.”

  “Oooh, scary. My full name. What do I have to ‘man up’ about?” Jax asked but wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “How’s work? Tips been good lately?” I leaned forward, forcing her to look at me.

  “You obviously already know the answer. I have no idea how tips have been.” Now Jax was the one enthralled with the loose threads. She picked at one while trying to ignore me.

  “Why didn’t you say anything? It’s great news that you are painting full-time. You should be proud.”

  “I’m enjoying it while it lasts. That’s all I’ll say.”

  “That’s all you’ll say?”

  “On that subject. Another question. Do you think Ben had a good reason for doing all that?” I let Jax change the subject without pushing her. I knew how hard it was to make the leap and quit a job.