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I bring the boxes down the stairs one by one, and place them by the front door, not having the energy to put them in the car. I’ll bring them to the Jeep in the morning before Chase gets here. As I’m bringing the last box down, my cell phone rings. Chase must know when I’m thinking about him, since he seems to call when I’m in the middle of something. I answer the phone.
“You can’t wait that long to see me?” I say playfully into the phone.
“Hi, Liv.” It isn’t Chase. I should have looked at the caller ID before answering.
“Evan,” I say caught off guard. “What do you want?” My tone is abrasive. Why is he calling me?
“I heard you were home,” he begins. That’s right. My mom, Benedict Arnold told him.
“Yeah, I’m right in the middle of packing. I’m moving,” I toss out.
“Moving? Where?”
“My new job at NOAA has me traveling often, and most of my field work will be in the city. I rented a place in Manhattan.”
“You can afford that?”
“Yes, I found something in my budget.”
“Wow. That’s . . . great.” He tries to sound happy for me, but I can tell by his tone he’s not.
“Thanks.”
“Can you take a break? I mean, I thought we could meet up for a drink or something,” he says. My tone softens.
“I’m going to be busy for the next few days.”
“What about tonight?” he asks. “It’s still early. Just one drink, so we can talk?” He’s pleading.
“I don’t know.” I am very hesitant about seeing Evan.
“Please, one drink, I swear.” I take a deep breath. Do I really want to do this? I did tell him that when I was back we would talk, but I’m not sure if this is a good idea. I could use a break, I guess. “Where?” I manage to say.
“Wherever you want.”
I don’t want someplace intimate. “The Oar, outside bar.” That will be loud and busy once the Saturday night band starts, and allow me a quick getaway if needed.
“I can be there in half an hour.”
“Fine. I’ll see you then.”
Crap. I’m not sure what he wants to talk about. There is nothing left to say. He says he wants to be friends, but I don’t think I can do it. I can’t help but think that all I’ll see when I look at him is the vision of him and my whore of a roommate Brandi, naked and fucking on my bed. I do want to get rid of all of the anger, so this could be good in a way.
The more I think about this, the more I think it’s a bad idea. I don’t want Chase to find out. He will definitely take it the wrong way. The one and only time they met, I thought he was going to kill Evan. I can only imagine what would happen if he saw us together again. I shudder at the thought.
I don’t want to keep secrets. That won’t do either one of us any good. I should call Chase and tell him that Evan wants to meet me, and he has nothing to worry about. I’m going around in circles here. If I call Chase, I’ll have him stewing over nothing. I decide that the plausible deniability route is the best idea.
I go upstairs and try to fix my hair, not really caring what I look like. I can’t change; all of my clothes are packed up with the exception of a couple of pairs of jeans and a few tops. I’ll have to go out with what I have on, which is jeans and a lacy tank top. I grab my staple pair of Coach flip-flops and head down the stairs. “Going out,” I yell through the house as I head out the front door.
I am sitting at the outside bar waiting for Evan. I’m not even sure what I’m doing here. I have a feeling that this is a bad idea. I take the last sip of my Amstel just as Evan comes through the parking lot and onto the dock. He sees me and heads over toward the bar.
“Hi,” he says. I can see his anxiety.
“Hi.”
“How are you?” he asks, contrition in his voice. As well he should be.
“Fine.”
