43. Chloe
forty-three
Isound way more confident than I feel, telling Justin I’ll take care of us. But what else can I do, in this moment? I can’t possibly tell him how I feel.
Scared.
Threatened.
Like this could be the end of us.
Justin never wanted a relationship.
Now he’s going to have a child.
Gisele will be in his life, forever.
As she should.
But can I do this? Really? And feel complete? At peace?
And how about Justin? He said he loves me, and I know it to be true. But things between us progressed quickly. It doesn’t mean it’s what he wanted. It just… happened.
The man never wanted this type of commitment.
And now, with Gisele, and a baby on the way? Is this going to be too much for him?
Gisele and the baby, he has no choice.
But me?
I close my eyes to hide my emotions from him and wrap my legs around his hips, my arms around his shoulders, pulling him to me.
Leaving no space between us.
His weight feels good on me, and I start dozing off.
Then both our phones chime with a sound I hear during the day, when it doesn’t matter.
But it’s night.
It could be what we’ve been waiting for.
It could also be lovers looking for a quiet place.
Justin lifts himself off me, barely enough to grab his phone.
It could also be a bear.
He jolts. “Fuck! It’s them.” He hops off me. I grab my phone and look at the grainy image while I slip on my clothes. The light from the restaurant’s back door spills onto the parking lot, lighting a car with the trunk wide open.
I jump into my underwear, slip on my jeans and flip flops, and pull a sweatshirt over my head as we both tumble out of the house and into Justin’s truck.
Checking my phone, my blood runs cold. Two men are loading the trunk of a car, the light from the restaurant’s back door leaving no doubt about what’s going on.
“Ohmygod, Justin, you were right.” I don’t care to see who it is or what they’re carrying. No one is supposed to be loading stuff from my restaurant into their car.
We need to catch them in the act.
“Dec,” Justin barks into his phone as he peels out of the driveway. “We’re on. Got them on camera. We’re headed there now.”
“Wait for me,” Declan snaps back, his voice audible even to me.
“Won’t wait forever, Dec,” Justin says, hangs up, and drops his phone on my lap.
As we approach the back street leading to the parking lot, Justin switches the truck lights completely off and slows. Then he pulls to the side and kills the engine. “Wait in the truck. If you see car lights coming down the street and Declan still hasn’t gotten here, you block the street with the truck and get the hell out so they don’t find you. I’m gonna go.” He slices out of the car.
I hand him his phone. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
He closes the car door softly, and my heartbeat picks up as I watch him storm away, shoulders hunched, fists balled up, his silhouette clearly visible in the full moon.
Samuel is an asshole. And David is a wild card. What will they do if—when—Justin confronts them? God, what is Declan doing? How far was he anyway? I strain to listen but hear nothing but the summer trill of millions of insects in the night.
The wait seems interminable. Should I go? But then I won’t be able to block their exit if they leave before Declan gets there. And if I move the truck in the middle of the street, Declan won’t be able to make it to the parking lot.
God! I want to call Justin, but I can’t. What if he’s hiding in the bushes, collecting evidence, and his phone rings?
Ohmygod, his phone is not on silent. Oh please, please, please don’t let anyone call him now.
This wait is killing me. How long has it been? My phone chimes, signaling movement again. Ohmygod, the men are coming out, carrying heavy-ass boxes. They’re hunched over. And… is that Justin? What is he doing? He’s walking to them, hands on his hips.
Oh no, no, no. Don’t! I slide behind the wheel, deciding I’m going to pull up there in the truck. I’ll improvise once I get there.
I gun it, turning the high beams on.
And finally, finally! Red and blue lights materialize in my rearview mirror. I speed up and pull to the side as I get to the parking lot just in time to see Justin stumble back and charge.
Declan sounds his siren, then jumps out of the car. Another cruiser pulls up, and the three silhouettes in the parking lot freeze. Clearly recognizable, David and Samuel are blinking, blinded, and surprised.
Justin wipes under his nose. “You wanna rewind this action and come in a little later, Dec, gimme a chance to punch this asshole in self-defense?”
“Step back, King,” Declan orders, obviously not in the mood for Justin’s snarkiness.
“He did hit me.”
“Payback, asshole” Samuel snarls.
“Payback for what, you fucking moron? You’re stealing merchandise, you—”
“Enough!” Declan yells. “Everyone on your knees, hands behind your head.”
Justin shakes his head, takes several steps back from Samuel, and complies. David follows suit. When Samuel doesn’t, Declan pulls his gun.
Shit!
“Come on, man, how much you wanna add to your situation?” Declan asks. “Do the right thing for once. On your knees.”
Samuel drops to the ground.
The rest of the night goes by in a blur. Samuel and David are booked. Justin’s upper lip is split, dried blood caking on it, but he won’t let medics look at him.
Declan takes our statements. Photos are taken of the contents of the trunk, and I’m asked to identify them. I’ll need to corroborate with invoices, but it’s clear what was going on.
I’m relieved we caught them. Shocked and deeply disappointed by David, but relieved.
Justin winces as I clean his lip with a saline solution. “You okay, Clover?”
“Can’t say I was thrilled to see you charge up to them, but yeah.” I dab the cut with disinfecting cream.
He laces his arms around my waist. “You look pretty shaken.”
“Yeah, I wonder why. Oh wait! I just saw my boyfriend get stirred like a martini no one ordered.”
His lip looks painful as it splits into his killer smile. “Boyfriend?”
Ouch.“Or… whatever.”
He traces my face with the pad of his thumb. “You’re more than my girlfriend, Clover.”
My eyes water while my center clenches. “Oh.” What do I say to that? “I just saw my person get hurt,” I correct.
His shoulders shake as he laughs softly. “No, but really, Clo, how’re you feeling?”
“Relieved. And yes, shocked. And disgusted that Samuel, who Uncle Kevin and Aunt Dawn trusted, could do that, and same for David. Although David? Did not see that coming.”
“You said relieved?”
“Yeah. Mystery solved. I can move on now, hire new people. Although—shit!”
“What?”
“I have that event tomorrow. They were both going to work it. I’ll see if Ryan and Trevor can help out. But,” I kiss the side of his mouth, “I won’t be able to go out with you.” I feel sad. It seemed to mean a lot to him, to take me out. “Rain check?”
“Course. Even better. I’ll come bartend for you.”
“Really?” That’s awesome. “But—isn’t it weird if the pub’s owner is working next door?”
“What’s weird about that?”
“Won’t your staff be… I don’t know…”
He runs his hands under my sweatshirt. “Don’t worry ’bout my staff. I’ll be there for you.”
“Thank you,” I breathe as he continues his exploration of my body, making swift work of the sweatshirt, and going straight for the front clasp of my new bra.
The next day flies by, and it’s a good thing.
It helps me forget about Gisele. About the fact that in a few days, there will be no hoping things turn out differently. The test results will come back, and if Gisele’s attitude is anything to go by, there will be no more denying that Justin will become a father soon, with new responsibilities, a new focus, a different life.
And as the months go by, will there still be a place for me in his life?
So, yes, I welcome the craziness for now.
In the morning, we go to the station to wrap up statements, charges, and other fun stuff. Midday, I stop by the restaurant to update my staff on the night’s events and help them prep for the evening.
They’re shocked when I tell them Samuel and David were caught stealing, but mostly they stay quiet. “Justin will come bartend for us tonight,” I say.
“Oh right, he’s closed tonight,” Corine says.
Justin’s closed? I didn’t know the pub ever closed. And on a Friday?
Maybe it’s a thing. Staff appreciation day or something. I’ll have to ask him.
“Do we know what the occasion is for our group here tonight?” I ask Shoshana a few moments later, referring to the reservation that was made a while back at the restaurant, possibly even before I started.
“I believe it’s a memorial.”
“Oh, okay. I didn’t see any special requests for flowers or anything.’
“Nope. They said they love the restaurant the way it is. They don’t want anything special, just the menu that was agreed upon.”
I check in with Corine in the kitchen. “Are you okay in there?”
She lifts her head from a sheet of paper she and Eric were examining. “All good!” her smile is genuine, and her relaxed features give me pause.
After Samuel and David were arrested, I called her before going to the station, to fill her in on the night’s events. I wanted to give her the information first, and more details on Samuel’s scheme.
I also offered her Samuel’s job. I was expecting needing to convince her, but she accepted immediately and with enthusiasm.
And now that she’s in charge, the atmosphere is much more relaxed, despite the obvious shock we’re all in.
Justin gets behind the bar at five and sets himself up. I’m in and out of the dining room, and I have to say, I like him there. In what will soon be my restaurant. It also brings back great memories.
When no one is in the dining room, I sashay to the bar, hike on a barstool, and make my voice sultry. “Hey there, bartender, watcha doin’ with the rest of your night?”
He chuckles at my exaggerated act, but lust still fills his gaze. “I’m getting in bed with a hot woman, lady.” He pulls out a chopping board and preps his garnishes.
“Easy cutting those limes, cowboy. I’ve heard some pretty gruesome stories,” I continue in my husky voice. Although we’re being silly, bringing up the memory of our first night together fills me with desire.
I hope tonight’s event doesn’t last too long.
At five thirty, the hosts of the private dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Ward, arrive early, as planned, to be there and welcome their guests.
And Justin’s composure behind the bar falls. He pales and freezes, as if he’s seeing a ghost.
Then Mrs. Ward says, “Justin! Justin King! Oh, honey, look who’s here.” And she rounds the bar to hug Justin, her husband following with a small smile.
Justin’s arms hang by his side as his panicked gaze is lost somewhere far. Then he awkwardly brings his hands to Mrs. Ward’s back.
What the…?