39. Making an Entrance
WESLEY
I washedeverything on my body three times over before I could get out of the shower, and I still wasn’t entirely convinced I was clean enough. Smelling good, looking apologetic, and turning on the charm to a hundred were the three key factors I could control about this meeting. Going to The Comfy Cushion made me want to throw up—as in my bubble guts were actually audible from how hard my stomach churned—but it had to be done. The only way to conquer your fear was to face it.
Most of the clothes I owned were given to me by all the fashion houses who courted me for contracts, but I always asked Mrs. Aguilar, who was now my housekeeper, to include what I called undetectables—regular jeans, simple shirts, and hoodies. Clothing that wouldn’t catch a paparazzi’s eye. Not that I needed to worry about that in River’s Run. Normally, however, when I arrived in larger cities, my celebrity status meant there was at least one slimeball with a Canon following me.
Celeste was going to get the real me, though. A simple white t-shirt and plain jeans, with a beat up pair of black Chuck’s. She always preferred my natural hair, so I resisted the urge to put in the massive amounts of styling cream I normally used and just let my length on top do its thing. While my reflection looked entirely too pale, it was the me that I remembered and liked. I hoped that would be enough for her.
Since Phillip and the driver left with the Range Rover, all I had to drive was Aunt Shirley’s old Buick. Which was actually now my old Buick, technically. It took me more than twenty minutes to find the keys, and I prayed the damn thing would even start. The engine took a few tries to start up, but it finally turned over and I backed out of the driveway at a pace that matched my frantic heartbeat.
The outside of The Comfy Cushion was a bit more run down than I remembered. Paint peeled from the sign overhead and all of the windows needed a good scrub. The bricks on the exterior would have benefited from harsh power washing. There weren’t nearly as many cars parked out front as there had been the last time I came in, especially for it being a Sunday afternoon. Less of an audience, though, which would make it easier.
What if she wasn’t even there? Maybe she left for college and never looked back. Maybe I was getting myself worked up over nothing because The Comfy Cushion had been passed on to new owners. Nana must be really getting on in years, so maybe Celeste took her to a quiet, little seaside town to spend her days in tranquil bliss.
Doug’s old, rusty pickup truck was in its usual spot out front. None of my imaginings could be true if that was the case.
Peeking through a corner of the window, I tried one of the breathing techniques my old MMA coach taught me to help me get a handle on my nerves. It didn’t work for shit then, and it didn’t do a damn thing now. There was only one table with an older couple. I could just make out the vague outline of Jesse back in the kitchen. No Marla or Celeste.
A woman came from around the counter with her long blonde ponytail swinging. I didn’t recognize her from the back, but it was only natural for there to be new workers after ten years.
Okay, it was now or never.
Pushing open the door to The Comfy Cushion made two things happen simultaneously. Recognition of the blonde bombshell behind the counter as my one night stand from Savannah and shock that she and Celeste Hendricks, the love of my life, were one and the same.
Everything after that was a total shitshow. Celeste didn’t initially look up as she greeted me from behind the counter, encouraging me to sit anywhere I’d like. She grabbed a coffee pot from the warmer and came around the counter. It was then that she finally made eye contact with me…and dropped the pot of coffee on the floor. Glass sprayed everywhere, along with hot coffee all over her shoes, shins, and the bottom of her jean capris.
“Shit!” she screamed, rushing to the back of the kitchen.
Fuck, I guess we were going off the script in my head already.
“Celeste!” I hollered. I didn’t think twice before following her behind the counter and into the kitchen. She was already in the back prep area, running cold water onto a cloth and slipping out of her canvas sneakers.
“Please tell me you’re not hurt!” I cried. I snatched another rag from the shelf and fumbled with it under the water in the sink, crouching down to lay it across her leg.
She jumped backward, kicking at me with her other foot. “Don’t you dare touch me, Wesley Madden!” Celeste yelled.
After a full minute of trying and failing to roll up the bottoms of her tight capris, she growled in frustration and sped out of the room. I stayed right on her heels. If I let her out of my sight, she would probably bolt for the hills.
Inside her dad’s old office, Celeste was already stripping out of the capris. I had a momentary glimpse of the curve of her ass and luscious hips in a pair of black panties before she shrieked at me.
“GET OUT! GET OUT!”
Dogs would howl at that pitch. I turned back, slamming the office door behind me, but kept my hand on the doorknob. This was the only way in or out, so she’d have to face me one way or another.
“You better not be out there, Wesley!” she screamed through the door.
I rolled my eyes. “Like I would leave at a moment like this!”
“Why not? Leaving’s what you’re good at!”
Okay, I definitely deserved that. At least now I knew we were gonna be duking it out right away. This was where the heavy groveling part of my plan commenced.
“Lovebug, I have a good reason for being gone. You have no idea how sorry I am, and if I live to be a hundred, I’ll never make it up?—”
“You don’t even deserve to speak to me!” Celeste raged through the door. “Get out of my restaurant!”
The door handle rattled as she tried to pull it open, so I held on for dear life.
“No, ma’am!” I called back. “You aren’t leaving this room until you agree to hear what I have to say!”
“HOW DARE YOU?!” she roared. “You no good, slimy?—”
“Hey, Wes,” Jesse said, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He didn’t seem surprised to see me or hear our heated exchange. This was just life back to normal for him.
I gave him the man nod. “Hey, man, what’s up?” The office door gave a violent shake and I added my other hand.
Jesse nodded towards the office. “Don’t really sound like she’s too happy.”
Leaning backward to hold the door, which now rattled as though being attacked by a wild bear on the other side, I shrugged and shook my head. “Women, am I right?”
He snickered. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
That earned him another man nod. “Yeah, say hi to your mama for me.”
Pounding now erupted from the door. Celeste couldn’t pull it open so I guess she settled for beating it down. She was still calling me all sorts of names, but I expected nothing less.
“Celeste, you have to talk to me,” I yelled.
“Like hell I do!” she shouted.
“Lovebug, we both know you don’t have anywhere else to go right now! This is the only way out of there.”
A brief pause and then, “Fine!”
As soon as the door swung open, Celeste’s fist came flying out. She wasn’t forming the fist correctly and we were too far apart for her to actually get much power behind it. Even still, I dipped my head to the left to dodge the hit and smirked at her.
“You’ve literally watched me train with an ultimate fighter,” I scolded.
“Oooh, you!” She stomped her foot, then brushed past me and down the hallway. Apparently, she was too angry to finish her statement.
It wasn’t until she was two steps ahead of me that I realized she had swapped out her jean capris for a pair of Daisy Dukes that made me bite my knuckles and pray for mercy from a god I didn’t believe in. She must have slid on a pair of flip flops in the office, and when I followed her back into the kitchen, held out a broom and dustpan for me to sweep up the mess out front. Celeste went over and started filling the mop bucket with soap and hot water.
Being allowed to clean up had to be a step in the right direction. Metaphorically and literally.
By the time I got into the dining room, the couple who had been in the booth was gone. I really hoped they hadn’t stiffed Celeste on the bill. Sweeping all the glass, I became acutely aware when she came back out in the dining room. It was like the electric charged air right before a lightning storm. We worked in silence for several minutes to clean up the mess, including wiping down the barstools and the base of the counter that got splashed.
Finally, when there were no remnants anywhere, I opened my mouth to speak but she beat me to it.
“What are you doing here, Wes?” Celeste wouldn’t look at me, gazing obstinately at her feet.
It gave me a moment to note all the changes since I had last seen her. Blonde hair, almost similar in shade to mine, was the biggest difference, but she had also gained weight in all the right places. Her body was now like an hourglass and I couldn’t wait to feel it pressed up against me to fall asleep at night. We probably wouldn’t be at that point for a while, though.
“Celeste, I’ve been trying to come home to you for years,” I eventually said.
She snorted and leaned down on the counter with both arms. “Is that what you call all those pictures in magazines and stuff?”
“I was earning money for us?—”
“No, don’t you dare say that to me!” Her voice cracked, from the tears gathering in her eyes or the swell of sorrow leaking into her voice. “There is no ‘us’ and there hasn’t been in a long time, Wesley.”
Under normal circumstances, seeing tears run down her face would have me equally choked up or madder than a hornet’s nest cut down from the pinewood. Now, however, it did the exact opposite. Her reaction gave me hope, because people who don’t care don’t have the emotion to spare when a person from their past barges in. Celeste might not want to feel anything for me anymore, but she did, and that gave me something to work with.
“I came back in town because Aunt Shirley passed,” I said quietly.
Celeste nodded, sparing me a quick glance before darting her eyes away again. “Yeah, I heard. I’m sorry to hear it. She was a real good lady.”
“Yeah, she was somethin’ special,” I agreed. “Her funeral will be on Thursday if you’d like to come.”
I didn’t want to push my luck any further. “I’m staying at her place, if you’d like to talk. But lovebug, I’m not leaving this town until you do. And I’ll come back here every day just to prove myself to you.” Holding up a hand in farewell to Jesse, who stood watching us with unveiled interest from the kitchen line, I resisted the urge to plant a kiss on Celeste’s forehead and exited out the front door.