Eversea: Forever, Jack Part 7

"Jack, if you really want her, you're going to have to fight dirty. You're Jack Eversea, talented actor and now I hear screen-writer and producer. For Christ's sake, you have a face and body that make girls swoon-"

"Ah, Dev," I say turning back to him, uncomfortable with his a.s.sessment, and trying to make light of it. "I'm flattered."

"Shut up, Jack-a.s.s."

I smirk.

"You just have to make yourself attractive to her. We'll start with her basic needs, and you'll more than satisfy every one of them so she can't turn you down. Did I ever tell you I was a psychology major for a while?"

"G.o.d, no wonder I just poured my heart out lying on your couch."

"Yeah, well, it comes in handy, I can tell you. Especially when my pathetic friends become too miserable to help themselves. But right now I'm experiencing one of the first basic needs-I'm starving. What say we go get something to eat and start operation Make Jack Happy Again right away? Let's hope she's working tonight."

That alone was going to p.i.s.s her off, since she'd asked me to leave her be. But I'm going to have to trust Devon because I have no idea what else to do. I get up to head to the shower. "I hope you know what you're doing. What's the other basic need?"

Devon smiles and drains the rest of his beer, placing the bottle carefully down on the gla.s.s table. "s.e.x."

"That won't work on her."

"Dude, you don't think reminding her of the chemistry you two so clearly have will at least make it easier to get past her defenses and actually try and fix this?"

I pause at the foot of the stairs, running a hand through my hair. "s.h.i.+t, I have no idea. She's as likely to hate me more for trying."

And that was the truth.

In all of my imaginings about what would happen if Jack Eversea ever lowered himself to set foot back into my life, telling me he was in love with me had never featured. Okay, wait. Imaginings, yes. Realistic scenarios, no freaking way.

And using his feelings against him? Telling him to walk away from me if he meant them? No again.

His eyes had flickered as I delivered my final words, like he wanted to close them against me but willed them open. His breath rushed out of him before he clenched his jaw. Like I'd hit him.

I knew it was a low blow. I was making sure he had no recourse. To not walk away would be saying he hadn't meant it. And that was what I wanted, wasn't it?

After Jack had looked at me in stunned silence and walked out of the house without another word, I marched upstairs and flung myself on my bed. I lay there waiting for dawn. Glancing at the clock now and again, it seemed to take like four hours for the clock to inch forward thirty-two minutes.

Of course, I'd had fantasies that Jack Eversea loved me, couldn't live without me, yada, yada, yada. I think at one point it involved him admitting it to forty million television viewers during an acceptance speech at the Oscars. Seriously. I was only human. I mean, the entire time he was here in Butler Cove felt like a dream. A fantasy. Let's face it, a delusion.

But never when I considered the reality of him coming back, if he ever would, did I expect him to tell me he was in love with me. Me. I huffed into the small pocket of heated s.p.a.ce that was under the pillow then flung myself onto my back to get some more air.

I replayed every moment back in my head. Jack wanting to talk to me, looking so tense and ... nervous as he spoke of me dating Colt. A notion I'd taken a perverse delight in not denying. I guess he was nervous, although I'd never seen him that way before. He almost seemed ... jealous. Then the way he'd suddenly launched himself at me when I mistakenly admitted I wasn't over him ... like I'd given him the permission he'd been waiting for.

d.a.m.n, and I was just like some pilot light that had been left on for seven months, just waiting to be dialed up to full flame. Even now a dull ache thudded low in my belly. Why did he have to be the only one who could do that to me? It wasn't fair.

None of it made sense. If he really felt that strongly about me, why hadn't he contacted me for so long? I hadn't even given him a chance to explain that. I was too busy being shocked at his declaration and telling him to leave me alone. And besides, what could he say that would justify his actions? I would stand by my decision. I had to. I couldn't keep going through this. I had my own life to lead, and I wasn't going to get dragged off course.

Trying to park my unwieldy pickup on Broughton Street in downtown Savannah was a nerve-wracking experience, both for me and the homeless guy sitting under the eaves of the vacant storefront next to me. I normally considered myself pretty adept at handling my truck, but my mind was scattered and tired today.

I finally got the truck situated snugly alongside the curve without incident and climbed out, not bothering to lock up behind me. If someone needed something out of my truck that badly, I'd just as soon not have to pay to get a window fixed.

Heading up the street past the Trustees Theatre with its large old school marquis, I did a double take.

The Princess Bride, One Night Only.

I seriously did not need to start seeing signs pointing to Jack everywhere I went, but there it was in black and white. Shaking my head to dislodge memories of the ridiculous flirting we'd done when we first met, oneupping each other with lines from the movie, I crossed the street.

I'd deliberately parked far away from Colt's office on Bull Street where he worked with a team handling the private banking needs of the high net worth families of Savannah and surrounding areas. I needed time to walk, clear my head and get my game face on. I could also hit Blick, the art supply store, before heading back and not have to lug stuff around town. After lunch with Colt, I also needed to shop for a dress.

The sun shone valiantly through the canopy of live oaks in historic Johnson Square outside Colt's office, creating a crisscross of shadows. I pa.s.sed the fountain, putting flight to a kit of scrounging pigeons, and found a bench dappled in sunlight where I could text and wait for Colt.

Now that I'd resolutely put the idea of any kind of future with Jack out of commission, an idea that made my chest ache, I needed to address the situation with Colt one way or another. He'd intimated he wanted to be my date for my art opening at the Westin, and I'd been putting him off. I wished there were more time before the event so I could mourn and come to grips with everything that had just happened with Jack. Then at least, I could give Colt a fair chance. But to be honest, I wanted to go back to being on my own.

I looked up in time to see the tall, well-defined frame of Colt striding across the street in a dark suit, accompanied by an elegant and exotic creature in impossibly high red heels and a grey pencil-skirt and fitted jacket trotting as fast as possible next to him. Her dark hair was swept into an elegant chignon. Yikes. I couldn't remove my eyes from her, and I felt instantly dowdy, plain, and unkempt. And really, really short.

"Hi, Sweetheart." Colt leaned down, and wafting expensive cologne onto me, kissed my cheek. "This is Karina Knowles, she works with me. Karina, this ... is Keri Ann Butler."

Karina's exotic face with its flawless skin and almond shaped eyes immediately broke into a smile of beautiful teeth as she stretched out a soft hand to shake mine.

"Wow, you're really stunning," I said, out loud, and immediately felt my face flush warm.

Karina tilted her head and laughed delightedly. "Colton. You were right, she's delightful." Her British accent took me by surprise. "Nice to meet you Keri Ann, I've heard lots of great things about you. And thank you."

"You're British?" I blurted.

"Mmmm, well I was born here, grew up there, British father, Indonesian mother, time in London, time in Kuala Lumpur, and now Savannah, Georgia. The quick history."

Wow.

"Karina overheard me talking to you about your big event and offered her input on places to shop, get your hair done, etc."

I instinctively brought a hand up to my hair. I hadn't even thought about getting my hair done. Or makeup. I blinked.

"Yes, here," said Karina, handing me a thick business card. "I called and set up your appointments, I hope you don't mind. It's just that I had to pull some strings, they're normally pretty booked up. One for today and also the day of the event to do the styling."

I nodded, like I totally understood. "Uh, thanks. Thank you." Spa appointments were a bit alien to me, Jazz's attempts to keep me groomed notwithstanding. I had a feeling the place Karina was talking about was altogether different than the Korean girls who painted stars on my toes for Fourth of July.

She smiled and reeled off the boutiques I should visit after lunch. When I'd said she was stunning, it was an understatement. Why wasn't Colt dating her?

I glanced at Colt, who winked at me. Then we said goodbye to Karina.

As we strolled down the street, I became aware Colt hadn't taken my hand. He'd been holding my hand a lot recently, and the fact that he didn't was unnerving to say the least, even though part of me was relieved. I slid my eyes over to him as we walked. He seemed lost in thought. We reached the small gastro pub, and he held the door open for me as we entered.

Colt removed his suit jacket and rolled up his crisp white sleeves as we sat down. "So, have you seen him again?" he asked over the menu.

"Yes. He told me you guys had quite the chat." I quirked my eyebrow at him, trying to keep the situation light.

Colt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you could say that. After you left, I apologized for punching him, and he did the same. Look, I know we've only just started dating, so to speak, but I'm not under any illusions that I don't quite ... do it for you ... the way he obviously does."

I swallowed, guiltily. "Colt-"

He put a hand up. "It's fine, Keri Ann."

We placed our order with the server.

"It's not like you didn't try," Colt continued after we'd made our choices. "But, I care about you, you know that, and if you'd asked me two days ago whether I would stand in his way if he came back, I wouldn't have hesitated. I mean, we all got to see how little he obviously thought about you since he was here last."

I flinched, my chest collapsing into the pit of my stomach.

Colt grabbed my hand that was sliding off the table. "That was before, Keri Ann. Before I spoke to him. Before I saw him look at you. I don't know why the h.e.l.l he spent the last half a year acting like a douche, but as soon as you were gone, it was like he was different."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what I mean. The guy you see out there in the world is not the same guy I spoke to yesterday." He exhaled roughly. "I just know that standing between you two, physically and metaphorically, doesn't feel comfortable at all. I realized no matter what I feel for you, you'll never have those same feelings for me. And to be honest, as much as I care about you, because I seriously do, I can't compete with that."

I sat quietly, listening, letting him hold my hand. Colt was such a good guy. A good looking, successful, thoughtful guy. Any girl would be lucky to have him. But apparently not me.

He sighed and went on, "I know you're not taken in by what he does for a living. I think, in fact, that's probably the least attractive thing about him for you. That's part of what makes you so different than all the a.s.set-driven women I know."

"Is that the gentleman's way of saying gold-digger?" I laughed. "Don't put me on a pedestal, Colt. I like money and security as much as the next girl."

He smiled, ruefully. "It's not about just money. It's the props they get from gossiping with their friends about how hot their boyfriend is, how successful he is, the latest designer purse he bought for them. That's why I call it a.s.set-driven. It's all about collecting trophies that make them look good and feel good."

I frowned at him with a bemused smile. "Feeling sorry for yourself, Mr. Bigshot? You realize this is how men have been since the beginning of time? Have to have the hottest girlfriend, flas.h.i.+est car, best job, blah, blah, blah. The eternal p.i.s.sing contest, if you will."

Colt smirked. "You're totally right. As always. Anyway, I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I do have the flas.h.i.+est car and best job out of all our peers as far as I know. I'm just irritated that I have to give up the hottest girl."

My cheeks flushed warm, and I kicked his s.h.i.+n under the table.

"Ow! Jeez! I just gave you a compliment, and that's the thanks I get."

Our server arrived with our food so I leaned back and folded my arms.

"Sorry," I said with contrition. "And I'm not the hottest girl-"

"Whatever."

"I'm not, and you know it."

"And that right there, Keri Ann, is what makes you completely f.u.c.king breathtaking. No wonder you had Jack Eversea falling for you."

I paused with a fry halfway to my lips and winked to cover my reaction. "d.a.m.n, with that mouth, you should be dropping panties all over Savannah."

"Well, I was. And I plan to get back to it, now that you won't have me."

"I have no doubt." I laughed. I was beyond relieved Colt and I managed to move out of the date zone with minimal damage to pride and ego. "Are you going to eat those fries?"

"You've already stolen five, what's a few more? Go ahead." He leaned back and patted his flat waist through his s.h.i.+rt. "Gotta keep trim now that I'm on the scene again."

"I doubt you'll have to wait long. So about the party at the Westin. Do you still want to go, or would you prefer to bring a date? I can have Joey take me."

"What? You mean Mr. Eversea won't be escorting you? Can you imagine how much more publicity your exhibit will get if he shows up?"

"Frankly, I can't think of anything worse." I shuddered, imagining the circus it could become. "But he won't be going, he doesn't know about it. And anyway, I told him to stay away from me."

"First of all, he does know about it, because I told him. And secondly, what on earth makes you think he'll stay away from you?"

"Colt, I can't believe you told him. What the h.e.l.l else did you guys talk about?"

"Hmm ... let me think ... we covered me threatening him, him threatening me, your event obviously, the fact that I thought he'd been staring too hard at your wet t-s.h.i.+rt. He accused me of the same, whereupon I couldn't resist joking that it was 'headlight weather' and he literally flinched. I could tell I was getting to him, so, of course, I told him I was dating you now and that you made little kitten sounds when you were in bed with me, just to p.i.s.s him off further, which worked because he went white as a sheet. That's when I knew I should probably bow out. Not that I told him that. A bit of healthy compet.i.tion works wonders, don't you think?"

Three and a half hours later, I was late for work, stressed, and sh.e.l.l-shocked. I jabbed at my phone as I drove past the billboard reminding me that texting and driving was illegal in Georgia. I made it across the state line, marked not just by the Savannah River but also a strip club and a farm stand selling overpriced peaches to lost tourists, and pressed send.

Me: Jazz, call me! I'm traumatized.

She didn't call me, of course. I was defeated in the dress department even after three stores and seven dresses. And the beauty appointment was way out of my comfort zone. I felt like a fluffed poodle.

I made it back to Butler Cove in record time and went straight to the Grill, peeling into the parking lot with a spray of bleached oyster sh.e.l.ls. I slunk through the back door of the kitchen.

Hector, eyes wide, was already shaking his head and tutting at me. "Hees here." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, looking hectic.

Dammit! Paulie, the owner, was notoriously absent off-season. Of course he would show up the one day I was late.

And I was wearing the light pink maxi dress I'd put on to have lunch with Colt instead of what I was supposed to wear, which was shorts and running shoes.

Hector c.o.c.ked a bemused eyebrow as he took in my appearance.

"Don't you dare say a word," I warned him.

Jazz chose that moment to call me.

I regretfully silenced the phone and let it roll to voicemail as I stuffed my bag onto the top shelf of the storeroom. I glanced at my reflection and saw the trial make-up job I was wearing. At least it covered how tired I was. They'd done me over like I was getting married. I had highlights and soft waves in my normally unruly hair. I guessed it was pretty, but I pulled it all into a pony.

I was about to head past Hector and go apologize to Paulie for being late, when he took my shoulders. He set me at arm's length, gave me a long look with his dark brown eyes, and then sighed.

"It's okay, Hector."

His eyes crinkled up. "Bueno," was all he said, and he pulled me into a big hug then pushed me toward the swing door, shaking his head, and making the sign of the cross over his chest.

Okay, weird. I frowned but headed out. Some days I felt like his daughter.

Oh. I stopped dead upon exiting the kitchen.

Oh.

He's here.

The place was electrified. Paulie, his back to me at the bar, his gray hair tied back on his neck, was roaring with laughter at something Devon Brown or Jack Eversea said to him from where they sat across the polished wood.

My blood pooled at my feet.