Circle in the Sand (23 page)

I stand on the side of the court, doubled over, trying to catch my breath as I watch
drops of my sweat hit the polished floor. It’s been months since I played ball with
these guys, which might give me a reprieve from some of the pussy comments that are
sure to come my way any second. Even after I’ve been playing hard all morning—attempting
to knock Jax out of my head. No such freaking luck. I hear the ball bouncing toward
me, footsteps along with it. A hand slaps on my back, hard as shit.

“How ya feeling, Nancy?” Pete says.

I don’t answer with the “fuck off” he deserves. It’s not in me today. I straighten,
give him a look, and start to head back in when his voice booms over me. “Guys! Give
us a minute.”

I stop, turning back to him. “C’mon, man. Let’s just play some ball.”

“You can kill yourself after we talk about what’s got you so jacked up.”

I follow him to the small set of seats against the wall, thankful for the break. We
sit, staring out at the other guys who’ve given us the time by getting drinks. Pete
is tall, the blue-eyed blonde-haired Ken variety, but with the maturity of a teen
sneaking into an R-rated movie. All of this wise-ass, joking behavior takes a back
seat when someone he cares about needs him. “Well?” he finally says.

“Well what?”

“Is this about the hot leggy babe you selfishly keep locked away from me?”

“Sage. No, it’s not. I told you we’re just friends.”

“Then who? Because you sure as shit wouldn’t be acting like this over anything but
a woman.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve decided to focus on work.”

Pete roars back in thunderous laughter. “Bullshit!” he shouts in between breaths.
Some of the guys glance over.

“If this is your idea of helping me out, you’re doing a pretty shitty job so far.”

Pete calms. “So that’s why you’ve been kissing up to Sampson lately. And why you came
in early last week. You’re hiding.”

I wobble my head back and forth in denial.

“Dude, I know you. Just tell me.” He pauses, gives me a blank stare. “Or don’t, I
don’t give a shit.” He starts to get up, but I block him. “Okay, let’s hear it,” he
says.

“You’re right. There is someone.” I jam a finger near his face. “Don’t ask who.” He
leans back, holding up his hands. “I can’t stop thinking about her no matter what
I do. I see her face everywhere, think about how her hair smells, how she talks to
me even when she’s giving me hell, her big brown eyes that seem to carry love for
everyone she meets. But none of that means a damn thing because I already blew it
before I even had a chance. I hurt her pretty bad.”

“Holy crap, man. You’ve got it bad.”

“That’s it. That’s all you got?” I get up, heading for the ball resting on the ground.

Pete trails me. “Hold up.”

I bounce the ball, starting at him blankly.

“Sorry, man. All that Harlequin shit threw me off. Just give me a sec.” He stares
at the ball, going up and down from the floor to my hand. After a few seconds he looks
up. “I don’t know if there’s anything I can say to help you get with this girl. But
I know you, and this
mistake
, whatever it is, will eat you alive. What you need to do is make it right. Focus
on making amends. If you really care about her, that’s the most important thing, right?
Worry about the rest later.”

I take his words in, seriously thinking about what he said. He’s right. I’ve known
it all along. Jax is too important to me to leave things like this. Even if I don’t
have a clue how to act around her any longer, even if I make a complete ass of myself,
which I probably will, I have to try. I toss the ball to Pete, his hands catching
it face-level. Then I say, “For a dumb ass, you’re pretty smart sometimes.”

●●●

Plan A, to show up at Jax’s house, harassing her until she lets me explain so she
can forgive me, failed. She wasn’t home. She doesn’t exactly have a set schedule.
I will track her down. I even enlisted the help of the ex-con, gritting my teeth during
our conversation. So now I’m at the soup kitchen she sometimes volunteers at before
heading off to the bar. The jailbird told me it was Taco Tuesday, Jax’s favorite night.
After speaking with a guy named Edgar, I wait in the back, watching volunteers load
up pans with meat, cheese, and tomatoes. I told him Jax has been asking me to come
by, and I want to surprise her. I’m worried if she has a heads-up, she might take
off.

A few minutes later, a woman with a long, gray ponytail shoves an apron and a hair
net at me. “Edgar said to put these on.”

I scan the room as I comply, hoping Jax shows up any minute. Not that I’m above helping
out the poor, but I’m on my own mission here. I shuffle over to the doorway and take
a peek out in the seating area where very likely Jax is chatting with the patrons.

“You gotta problem with meat?” someone says behind me. The woman who gave me the apron
is tying one on herself.

“Meat? No, why?”

“I always ask. Wouldn’t want to give a vegan the meat tray.” She turns to the counter
behind her, plucks a giant tin of ground beef from the top, her unusually large muscles
flexing. She couldn’t have gotten those guns from lifting food trays. “Here, grab
this and head out there.”

I take the steaming meat tray, which smells pretty damn good, thinking like this could
be a long night. If Jax is a no-show, I could be stuck here for a while. Out front,
the crowd is already pushing forward, eyeing the spread. Most of the people are the
image of the average grocery store patron, with only a few falling into my own stereotypical
image of the needy.

I stand behind the pan, sandwiched between Schwarzenegger’s mom and a short Hispanic
woman. Running through my mind as the guests shuffle over are possible escape plans.
Scenarios include a sudden bout of the stomach flu, a work emergency, can’t find my
keys, all of which sound incredibly weenie and would make me a first-class chump the
second I got through the door. My only option is to suck it up and grab a fucking
spoon.

I have to admit, the longer I stand here the better I feel. So many grateful, smiling
faces passing through. So many “thank you’s” and “how are ya’s” from these humbled
people, excited about tacos and good company. And the kids. Some of them break my
heart just gazing into their innocent eyes. Where one looks wide-eyed and scared,
another appears unusually excited like he’s on a surprise trip to Disneyland. I keep
thinking how unfair life is for kids like this, even the ones that don’t seem to have
a clue what’s going on.

After a while, I relax into my job, return the smiles, the greetings, even tell a
few jokes. A young girl with long, blond hair and beautiful green eyes that stare
at me hopelessly, stops in front of me. She doesn’t say a word as she hands me her
plate. So I ask her, “Do you know where cows go for lunch?” She shakes her head without
speaking. “The calf-eteria!” I say with a haughty laugh. She stays silent, eyes lock
on me. Quiet falls around us as I reel in my laughter, looking like a dork. Then my
two female bookends bust out laughing. The girl eyes them, then can’t contain herself.
Once she is laughing full force, I join in, bringing stares from all around. I hand
her the plate back, hearing a quiet, giggly “thank you” from her before she moves
forward.

After about half an hour, the line comes to an end. Tables are filled with folks eating
heartily, laughing comfortably with friends and strangers. A chance to forget life
if only for a short time. I realize I haven’t looked out for Jax or even thought about
where she was for most of the time I’ve been out here. For the first time in days,
the hole in my chest isn’t so huge. But I can’t understand why being here has made
me feel any better about what’s going on with me and Jax. I think about all the time
and energy Jax puts into places like these, and finally it hits me. You can sit around
and dwell on all the things in life you wish you had, bitch about all the regrets
of the past, every damn thing that you missed out on, focusing on how to fix it all;
or you can count your blessings and pass some on to others. In the end, you’ll get
more than you need in return. This is how Jax has lived her life. It makes me see
more than ever that I have to make things right with her, even if she won’t give me
another chance. She deserves that much.

When the line is cleared, I join the volunteers, serving ourselves and sitting with
the patrons. With everyone mixed up, it’s difficult to distinguish between the
haves
from the
have nots
. My new girlfriend, little blondy, smiles and points to an empty seat next to her.
We eat in silence. I catch her staring at me each time I glance over to her. When
my plate is empty, she points to a lone tomato chunk and says shyly, “Why did the
tomato turn red?” I’m already smiling at her sweet face when I say, “Why?” She looks
away, hooks her arm under her mother’s.

“Well?” I say leaning back in my chair to give her more space. “You can’t leave me
hanging now.”

She stays nestled against her mother, but turns her head to me. “Because he saw the
salad dressing.”

I laugh along with a few others at the table, sending her into a triumphant smile.
“That was great. Can I borrow that one?”

She nods, still grinning like she’d pulled off an Oscar-winning performance. I thank
them all for sharing the table, wink at my girl, and grab my plate. As I get up, at
the next table I recognize the tall, thin man Jax called Willy at the church that
night. I’m surprised when he reaches his hand out to mine. When we shake, he smiles
and says, “Calf-eteria! Good one.”

I stay to help clean up, chat with a few of the ladies. I mention Jax, saying it was
too bad she wasn’t here tonight. Two of them glance at each other, appear to hold
back grins. Edgar comes in the back before I leave, shakes my hand. “Come back any
time,” he says. “We can always use help. Bring friends. Hell, bring enemies; we don’t
care, so long as they can serve food and smile. We even got Lefty coming here once
a month, and he’s only got one arm.”

I’m not sure if he’s joking when he slaps my back with a chuckle. “I’ll be back,”
I say fully meaning it. 

I walk out to the dimly lit parking lot alone. I’m staring down at my keys when a
car pulls to a stop between me and my car, startling me, causing my keys to fall to
the ground.

“Have fun in there?”

I snag my keys, look up. “Jax?”

Her window is down, arm resting on it, low music coming from the radio. “Quite an
experience, huh?”

I stand, caught off guard by her presence. Why does my heart kick into overdrive every
time I see her now? “Uh, yeah, it was…an experience.”

“That’s what I just said.”

I take a few steps toward the car. I have no idea how to read this woman any more.
“Yeah, I was agreeing with you.”

“You handled that meat pretty well,” she said with a smirk.

I let out a sigh. “You saw?”

“I was around.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me…” I catch the expression on her face.
“Oh, I get it. You wanted me to get stuck in there. To watch me twist in the wind.
That’s fair.”

“Actually, no,” she says flatly. “I wanted you to have that experience. And without
me there clouding it up.”

I take one more stride to her door, place my hand on her arm. “I’m glad you did. It
was a gift, and I thank you for it.”

She slips her arm out from under my touch. “I should go.”

“Wait, Jax.”

“What?”

“Can I please explain myself?” I suck in some air. “I’d really like to tell you why
I kissed you that day, and why I never told you it was me.”

“Here’s the thing, Ned. You hid this from me for a long time. You and Emily. So whatever
reason you tell me won’t erase that fact. If there’s no trust between us, what do
we have?”

I listen, all the while my heart being squeezed in a virtual vice. “I’m sorry, Jax.
You’re right. I only hope someday you’ll be able to forgive me. I’ll do whatever it
takes for you to do that. To be my friend again.”

She stares at me for a moment, then turns to put her car in gear as she gazes out
through her windshield.

Leaning down, I try to get her attention. “Do you think that’s possible? That you’ll
forgive me and be my friend again?”

Her head turns to me one last time. “Yes, Ned. I do,” she says, nodding. Then she
drives away.

“I don’t understand how you and mom could go out of the country. Why do you even have
to be there?” I’m on the phone with my father who just called me from London.

“I’m sorry, honey. You know I’m still on the board. Philip needs me for this deal.”

“Grandmother needs you more. And so do I.” I face my window, the back of my chair
to the door. “Where’s mom? I want to talk to her about something” Last night in bed,
Travis convinced me that I was avoiding the one person I should be talking to about
my decision to freeze my eggs and my fears about cancer. It’s too bad he was only
on the phone and not lying right next to me.

“She’s in bed. It’s eleven o’clock here.” Mom had been on her own business trip and
met Dad in London so they could have some time together away. As if they need to be
away
. They couldn’t get any farther away.

“What about grandmother’s birthday?”

“Have you spoken to the doctor about taking her out?” he asks. His tone is so apathetic
I picture him lounging in the fluffy, white hotel robe sipping champagne and eating
strawberries.

“He doesn’t think it’s a good idea. She’s been very weak lately. It could take too
great a toll on her. But Rose and Jax are adamant. I would feel so much better about
this whole thing if you two were here.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be there. Even if mother has to pop over to Chicago after this,
at least I’ll be there.”

“Chicago?” My face flushes with heat, my heart racing. “You’ve got to be kidding me,
Dad.” This anger is not only about Rose, but I’ll make my point with it anyway. “When
she’s done, maybe she could swing by So Cal for the funeral.” I fight back the tears
that threaten to flood my eyes. “Tell mother to pencil in two weeks from today, and
I’ll see if grandmother would mind being accommodating!” My voice rises louder than
I meant to. I swing back around the door to find Christine standing in front of me.

“Sage?” my dad says with the first hint of emotion I’ve heard in years.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I’ll have to call you back.” I hang up without waiting for his response.

“Christine.” I dab the corner of my eye before setting the phone down. “I’m…that was
my father. Sorry about that. Did you need something from me?”

She pulls back a chair, sitting on the edge. “We need to talk about a few things.”

I nod, glance around my desk hoping I didn’t leave anything out that makes me appear
incompetent.

“Look,” she says folding her bony fingers in her lap. “You’ve had a lot on your plate
lately. Things have been a bit stressful around here and for you personally.”

When she pauses, I ask, “Are you unhappy with my work? Have I done something?”

“No. In fact, I spoke with Mr. Klein this morning, and he’s recommending we work with
several of his associates, so you may have even more reason to visit that man of yours
in San Diego. And then you can save those tears for him where they belong.”

I steel myself, hoping she doesn’t see that I’m embarrassed she caught me teary-eyed
at work. That alone is a strike against me. “Ned and I are not together,” I say, too
annoyed to keep up that bullshit story any longer.

“Oh, too bad. He had a nice little ass.” One corner of her mouth turns up for a millisecond
before she pulls it back into place. “So anyway, one of the reasons I came in here
is because my transfer came through. I’m going to be working in the New York offices.

This catches me off guard because Christine has been wanting a transfer for more than
a year. I figured it was never going to happen. For some reason my first consideration
is of her sleazy husband. “What about David’s business?”

“David can take his dry-wall business and shove it up his ass.”

My eyes grow wide as I wrestle with a smile. “What?”

“He’s not coming with me. I’m filing for divorce. You think I don’t know he’s felt
more asses than a proctologist? Why do I keep saying the word ‘ass’? It’s on my mind,
I guess. Because I’m kickin’ ass and going to New York!” She raises a finger, watching
for me to join in on her enthusiasm. I don’t. “Anyway, I put up with it for too long,”
she says, growing serious.

“I’m sorry, Christine.”

“I’m not. It’s a relief.” She waves a hand across her face flicking a chunk of hair
back in the process. It makes me consider how I ended up surrounded by so many people
who don’t give a crap about anything. Then my mind goes to my friends, and I know
that I’m wrong.

“So your position here?” I ask.

“Right, that’s what I wanted to ask you about. If you want that promotion, getting
my position is a good first step. Of course, I’ll highly recommend you.”

All of this coming from Christine is unexpected. The praise, the acknowledgment for
my efforts, is all coming too late. “Thank you, Christine. But I don’t think so.”
I surprise both of us with these words.

“What do you mean? I thought you wanted to work on the big accounts? Ultra-high net
worth, working with the big boys.”

“I thought I wanted that too. But this thing with my grandmother. It’s really opened
my eyes. Made me see there’s much more to life than money.”

“There is?” she says in mock surprise. When I don’t respond, she says, “I’m kidding,
of course. I hope this doesn’t mean you’ll be leaving.”

“No. I’m not insane. I still have bills to pay. But I think I’ll be happy to continue
with the middle-class clientele. The people that put family first and money second.”

“It suits you well.” For the first time in months, Christine shows me a genuine smile.
She stands, heads for the door. Before leaving she says, “I take back what I said
a minute ago.”

“What’s that?”

“I
am
sorry,” she says. My brow furrows along with a head shake. “David,” she says. “I’m
sorry about the Christmas party.” Then she walks out.

●●●

A day later I walk into Jax’s house to battle out plans for grandmother’s birthday
and to see Travis. We’ve made quite a charity-finding team for grandmother’s money,
but I’m ending this friends crap once and for all. He wants more; I can sense it.
He must be waiting for me to make the first move. I’m sure losing everything and hitting
rock bottom rips all of your confidence away. But I’ve got just the thing for a guy
needing a confidence booster.

Travis opens the door wearing basketball shorts, a thin tank top, and a bucket of
sweat that deters me from hugging him. “Hi,” he says.

“Eww, what have you been doing?”

He offers me his gorgeous smile that makes me forget the sweat. “Working out. Can’t
afford a gym membership so I do what I can here. Want some coffee? Something else
to drink?”

I follow him in, slightly nervous about my plans. I worry I might be rushing things.
“I’ll grab a water. Want one?”

“Sure.”

As I walk to the kitchen, I can’t take my eyes off him. He removes his shirt, then
rubs a towel down his face and across his chest.
Need some help with that
?

Two minutes later we’re sitting on the couch, his shirt securely back in place. I
understand now, what goes through a man’s mind when he’s thinking about
when
and
if
he should make his first move. “Where is everyone?”

“Jax went to the store. Brady had class. So it’s just you and me.”

“Oh.” Silence fills the space between us. I hear a lawn mower down the street. My
mouth and throat become dry. I’ve never backed away from a challenge. I turn my body
toward him, bend one leg up on the couch. Maybe I won’t have to be the first one.
I just need to put the sign out to see if he’s buying. I run my fingers through pieces
of my hair, pull them forward, releasing them to fall across my chest. His eyes study
mine, his expression growing interested. “So what have you got for me?” he says.

“Um.” I lean forward, my eyes travel to his mouth.

“You haven’t changed your mind have you?” he asks.

My eyes flit away. I sit up straighter. “What?”

“About New Beginnings. You talked to Rose about it, and you’ve got lots of places
that money can do good for.”

Light bulb. “Oh. No, of course not. Everything’s already been set up to send a check.
I would have thought you heard about that.”

“No, I hadn’t.” He puts his hand on mine and the butterflies in my stomach party like
it’s 1999. “I want to thank you for that,” he says. “It’s really incredible of you.”

“I can’t take credit for this, Travis,” I say, disappointed for more than one reason.
I turn my head to look over the couch, out the window. “It never would have happened
if it weren’t for my grandmother. So you can thank her.”

“I will,” he says. Then he takes hold of my chin, turns my head back to him. “But
I’m still thanking you because you
did
make it happen.” His eyes take hold of mine and every nerve in my body comes alive.
We both want this. I lean forward, touch my lips to his, put my arm around his neck,
pulling him closer, waiting for his lips to respond. When they do, my skin catches
fire. His mouth takes over mine. A second later, his hand pulls mine from around his
neck. What is happening? He backs away, staring down at the space between us. “Sage,
no, we can’t do this.”

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“We’re just friends, remember? That’s what we agreed to.”

“You make it sound like we signed a damn contract.” I try to stay calm, but he’s avoiding
eye contact. “Will you look at me, please?”

He gazes up, and I take his hand in mine. He needs reassurance. He told me in the
beginning he had nothing to offer me, but he was dead wrong. “Travis, it’s okay. I
don’t care about your past or that you don’t have money or a real job. You’re a good
man, and you’re getting your life together. I have faith in you.”

“I know. I appreciate you saying that, but it’s not that.”

If it’s not that, I have another idea. I’m determined to convince him. “I trust you,
Travis. I know you won’t hurt me. That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it? That
I’ll get hurt?”

He slips his hands away from my grasp. “No, actually, it’s not. I’m worried that
I
will. You’re the one who’s dangerous, Sage.
You’re
the one who can hurt
me
.”

I’m completely stunned, frozen, when the door opens. Jax stands there, holding two
bags. I stare blankly at her, wondering why the hell Travis would say this to me.
“Hey,” she says.

Travis jumps up from the couch. “I’m going for a run.” He pushes past Jax and is out
the door before either of us can say anything.

I follow Jax to the kitchen where she sets the bags down on the counter. “Did I interrupt
something?” she asks, giving my body the once over.

“Unfortunately, no. In fact it was the complete opposite.”

“What do you mean?” She pulls out a diet of B’s—bread, bananas, beer
—
and sets them on the counter. Then a box of Teddy Grahams cookies. I shoot her a determined
stare to which she replies, “They’re Brady’s favorite.”

“How sweet. I wish I knew what Travis’s favorite was. Guess he’s not interested in
my sweet treats.” I grab the cookies and tear into them.

“Go easy on those. Brady’ll be home soon.”

“Aren’t you the little mommy,” I say, shoving a handful in my mouth. They’re not bad.

“Can we get the focus back on you? You’re not saying that the always desirable Sage
got turned down.”

“That’s exactly what I’m freaking saying.”

Jax finishes putting the rest of the food away, opens two iced teas, and hands me
one. We sit at the table while I unload on her. The past couple of months, the stuff
with my parents, my eggs, and finally Travis. As much as Travis was a pleasantly strong
shoulder to lean on, I’d missed talking to her, one of my best girls who understands
me. Since I’d found out about my grandmother’s money, things hadn’t been the same
between us. But I don’t have enough time or friends to hold a grudge. And Jax has
never let me down before, so I feel even worse that I didn’t give her the benefit
of the doubt.

She tells me Travis probably needs more time. I can’t explain what he said to me or
how I’d be the one to hurt him. And Jax doesn’t want to get in the middle of this,
so she says she can’t talk to him. I respect her decision. In fact, these last few
weeks have made me see more than ever things from Jax’s point of view. All the time
I was pressuring her to be more like me or Emily, we should have been working to be
more like her. “Jax, I’m so sorry about how I’ve acted lately. The stuff with my grandmother
and bugging you about that job.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything more.”

“Thank you. So will you help me give away some of this money?” Saying that still makes
me cringe a little. “I’m not done spending yet.”

“Sure, but…”