Meant For Her (24 page)

Chapter 46

Sierra had hit upon a road block in her relationship with Evan, and she wasn’t sure what it was. Things had seemed so good after his surprise night visit. She’d felt like she was on the cusp of getting him to admit his feelings for her.

After the wedding celebration for Carl and Jerry two days ago, though, he’d been more withdrawn. It wasn’t a tangible thing, just something she sensed. Something told her that he was walking a fine line, trying to balance where his life was now and where he felt it should be.

His uncertainty didn’t diminish her spirit, though. She’d be there to support him while he worked things through. He and the team were having an amazing run at the end of the season. They’d be leaving for the last road trip of the year after that afternoon’s game.

She made a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast while Evan showered. He’d be leaving within the hour to get to the stadium. Thinking of the week ahead without him saddened her, so she tried not to.

As she was plating the food, her cell phone beeped, indicating a text. She placed the plates on the table and picked it up. It was from Bastian.

Shoot tom at 10:30. Arrive 9:30
.

She frowned. He’d told her to be there at seven to help prep the models and set.

“What’s wrong?” Evan asked as he walked out of the bedroom and sat down.

Joining him at the table, she showed him the text.

“Didn’t you say seven o’clock earlier?” he asked.

She nodded. While he ate some eggs, she sent a return text.

You agreed to call for time changes
.

“It could be Camille,” she mused, lifting a piece of bacon. “It would be stupid for her to try it, though. She knows the text busted her last time.”

“Remind me again who benefited the last time she tricked you,” he said, “and who absolutely didn’t get busted.”

She couldn’t read his expression, but he sounded irritated. He’d given her a hard time about not pursuing things further over Camille’s betrayal. She knew he was upset on her behalf, so she couldn’t really fault him. But she still felt that Camille had acted out of desperation, not an evil nature. The guilt she’d been showing through her averted gazes and overall discomfort since Sierra confronted her supported the feeling.

But what was up with the text?

At church. Can’t call now
.

She glanced at the clock. Nine o’clock on a Sunday. Bastian would be at church.

“Well?” Evan prompted around a mouthful of toast.

“He says he’s at church. He goes every Sunday.”

“Wouldn’t Camille know that?”

“Yes.”

He gave her a look that said,
Hello?

She pushed her eggs around with her fork. “I know, Evan. You don’t have to make it seem like I can’t reason this out.”

“Ask him to call you and confirm after church.”

Withholding a sigh, she picked up her phone and entered the text. They ate in silence for the next minute. She felt Evan’s gaze on her and wished his expression revealed something other than annoyance.

OK
.

She smiled as she read it. “See? He said he’d call.”

“What time does church get out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Twenty bucks says you don’t get a call.”

Setting her fork down, she stared at him. “Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?”

“So unsupportive and…mean.”

He ate the last of his food and shrugged. “You call it mean, I consider it being realistic. You should’ve done something about Camille a long time ago. She’s cost you a lot of money and headache.”

“There’s a reason behind what she did,” Sierra argued. “I just haven’t figured out what it is yet.”

“It’s not your job to figure out the reason,” Evan snapped, getting up and bringing his dishes to the sink. “Sometimes people are just assholes, Sierra.”

“That’s a very harsh point of view. Don’t you think there’s more than one side to every story?”

“Not always.”

She looked again at her plate and stirred her cooling eggs with a corner of toast. “Well, it must be nice to be so certain about everything.”

“As I said, I’m just being realistic. You’re naïve when it comes to these kinds of situations…too damn nice. You’re just setting yourself up to be hurt.”

Insult slapped at her. How many times had people said that over the past few months? Why did they make being nice sound like a disease?

“I don’t see how giving people the benefit of the doubt makes me naïve.”

Evan ran a hand impatiently through his hair. “It’s not just that. It’s like you think you’re always right about people, even if you barely know them. How many times did you harass me about the damn dogsitter?”

Her lips clamped closed.

“You acted like he was some psychopath,” he continued, pacing beside the counter. “Yet he worked with the dogs for months without a problem. Beck’s injuries were just accidents.”

She didn’t agree, but knowing that she couldn’t prove anything kept her quiet.

“You walked right into the situation with Jensen, too,” he went on, making her back stiffen. “Anyone with half a brain can tell the guy’s an asshole manwhore, but you got yourself trapped in a room with him. Now he won’t leave me alone, sending me all of these goddamn threats.”

Pain blossomed in her chest. “What?”

“Threats,” he growled, tossing his hands up in the air. “Surely you’re aware of what those are. Messages telling me to get the hell out of town. Thank God I’m already planning on doing that.”

Emotions swirled through her so fast that she didn’t know how to respond. Were the threats the reason he’d been so off-kilter lately? Could the times he’d withdrawn from her been related to that, and not directly to her?

Did he hold her responsible for the threats?

“You should tell Aunt Caroline—” she began.

“Oh, for the love of God, Sierra. I’m not going to run tattling. My point is that you don’t have the best judgment when it comes to people, even if you think you do. Women like Camille will eat you for breakfast.”

Tears burned her eyes. She couldn’t believe that he thought so little of her.

“I’ve done just fine getting through life without a referee, Evan,” she said evenly. “I’ll handle things with Camille on my own.”

He paced in the other direction and shook his head. “I’m telling you, you should just give up on her.”

“I didn’t give up on you,” she said.

He froze. She knew immediately that she’d said the wrong thing.

“I didn’t mean—”

“What the hell?” he interrupted. Shock and what might have been hurt flashed in his eyes. “Do you think I’m some kind of goddamn project?”

She got to her feet. “No, Evan. I—”

“It all makes sense now,” he said, moving closer to her. He looked at her as though he was just seeing her for the first time. “Who’s the pathetic loser in the corner at the wedding reception? God, doesn’t he look pitiful?”

“No,” she said. “Please don’t—”

“He’s lost his mother,” he continued ruthlessly, stepping close enough to have her backing up. “He must be in need of my help. Let me get him back out in the world, make him see there’s more to life than just pain. I’ll get him out in the neighborhood, shaking hands and holding babies.”

Her breath left her in a pant. It could barely escape past the excruciating ache in her chest and throat. She wanted to argue with him, wanted to tell him he was wrong.

But she couldn’t.

“Why don’t I help poor, broken Evan,” he said, his voice deadly quiet now. “I’ll convince him we’re meant to be together. I’ll even fuck him, give him a real thrill.”

She flinched as though he’d struck her. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She reached the wall in the foyer and pressed herself against it to hold herself up. His dark blue eyes were like orbs of ice as they met hers.

“Well, I’ve got news for you, Sierra. I didn’t need your help. I don’t want your help. And if you equate helping someone with loving them, you’re all kinds of screwed up.”

Finding her voice, she insisted, “No, I don’t feel that way, Evan. I do love you.”

“Save it,” he said, suddenly looking weary. “Stay away from me and my dogs from now on. Once the season ends, I’m leaving this city. We’ll all be better off without each other.”

He turned and pulled out his keychain. She watched as he unhooked her key from the clip.

“Evan, please listen to me. I—”

The key hit the tile by the door with a loud clatter. “Save it, Sierra,” he said, opening the door. “I’m done with all of the pity and platitudes. Give them to someone else.”

When the door closed behind him, she wanted to run to it and yank it open, beg him to listen to her. But she knew that would only aggravate him more.

She knew he’d already shut her out completely.

Chapter 47

Later that evening, there was a knock on Sierra’s door. She hurried over to it, sadly hoping it was someone with a gift from Evan telling her how sorry he was. Or even better, maybe Evan himself.

That was highly unlikely, considering he was even then taking the field in D.C. And considering he hadn’t responded to her earlier text or voicemail asking for him to contact her, it was probably asking too much to hope for flowers.

Still, it wasn’t completely unrealistic to hope for something. She knew Evan wasn’t normally as cruel as he’d been with her. He’d been offended by what she’d said, and thinking about it from his viewpoint, she could understand that. There had even been some truth behind his words, a realization that pained her.

But how could he not realize how much she loved him? She’d only ever wanted him to be happy.

Rather than a floral delivery person, however, she saw Geoff through the peephole. Her heart dropped, but she opened the door.

“Hi, Geoff,” she greeted him.

“Hi, Sierra.” He shifted uncomfortably, not meeting her gaze.

“You’re here for the dogs, right?” she guessed.

“Yeah.” He gave her a shamefaced smile. “I’m sorry if this is, you know, awkward.”

It wasn’t awkward. It was gut-wrenching. But she couldn’t blame him.

“That’s okay. Come on in. The boys are in here.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He bent down before he stepped inside. She realized he was carrying some large objects as he stood back up. When she saw what they were, tears once again burned her eyes.

“Mr. Dorsey asked me to bring these to you,” Geoff said, setting the three framed photographs that she’d made for Evan on the floor inside the door. “I’m not sure why. I guess you’ll know what to do with them?”

She refused to break down right then, but it was a monumental struggle. If there was one way to hurt her deeply, this was it. Evan hadn’t even had the courtesy of bringing the pictures back himself. She supposed it was a very small comfort that he hadn’t returned the images of his mother.

“Thanks, Geoff,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

“Okay.” He bent down as Miller and Beck ran over to stand on either side of Sierra’s legs. “Hi, guys.”

Beck backed up. Miller made a growling sound. Sierra watched them, not in any mood to mediate.

“It’s okay,” Geoff said, holding his hand out with his palm down. “It’s me, Geoff.”

Eventually, the dogs left with him. Once again, the guy had enough sense not to ask her out on a date. She sat on the sofa and turned on the game, though she figured she was a glutton for punishment for doing so.

Every time she saw Evan, her eyes stung. Leo sat beside her with his head on her lap, sensing her mood. She once again checked her cell phone, hoping to see a voicemail or missed call from Bastian, even though she’d kept the phone nearby all day.

Still nothing.

Evan had been right, she realized. Camille was only out to get her. Geoff was harmless. She had initially gotten involved with Evan because she pitied him.

She was too nice and he had every right to be angry with her.

Unable to handle anymore, she turned off the game and went to bed, setting her alarm so she would be at Z Studios by seven the next morning.

*     *     *

“What are you doing here so early?” Camille asked as Sierra walked in.

“I’m here for prep work.”

Camille frowned. “Bastian said that he contacted you. The shoot moved to ten-thirty due to a conflict on the client’s end. He didn’t need you here until nine-thirty.”

Sighing, Sierra shook her head and moved to walk past the reception desk into the studio. “Sure he did. The text didn’t work this time, Camille.”

As she walked into the studio, she started flipping on lights. It was unusually dark, she thought. Why wasn’t Bastian already there? Where were all of the models and set designers?

She reached the set that she knew they’d be using and turned on the lights. A movement caught the corner of her eye. Jumping, she lifted a hand to her chest. Her gaze met Camille’s.

“The shoot really was moved to the later time,” Camille said.

“That can’t be,” Sierra countered. “Bastian told me he would call me to confirm the time change and I never heard from him.”

“He must have forgotten.”

Sierra studied the other woman’s expression and saw the sincerity there. A mix of frustration and relief rolled through her.

“Bastian really did text me this time?” she asked.

Nodding, Camille looked away, wringing her hands. “I’m really sorry about what happened before.”

Finally
.

Spotting a couple of chairs, Sierra tilted her head toward them. She was pleased when Camille walked over and sat down, even if she looked uncertain.

“Why did you do it?” Sierra asked.

Camille folded her hands in her lap and shrugged. “You don’t really care.”

“Yes, I do, Camille.”

Apparently reading something in Sierra’s gaze, her shoulders slumped. “My parents hate that I work here. They want me to pursue a ‘real’ career, tell me that I’m wasting my life. They never shut up about it.”

“And you want to prove them wrong?” Sierra guessed.

“Yes. I’ve been trying so hard to get Bastian to notice me. I’ve asked him if I could volunteer on shoots, and I’ve sent him tons of samples of my work. But he’s so hung up on you and your talent that he doesn’t give anyone else the time of day.”

While Sierra didn’t think that was true, she didn’t say so. “Have you found that he’s changed how he works with you since the Brinkman shoot?”

“No.” Camille frowned. “If anything, he’s less interested in my photography.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“He knows what I did to you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Sierra asked, “If Bastian had found your work spectacular, do you think he’d have cared what you’d done to prove yourself to him?”

Camille blinked over the question. She’d worked with Bastian for more than a year. She knew him very well.

“No,” she admitted at last.

Watching realization cross the other young woman’s face didn’t bring Sierra any pleasure. But she knew they were making progress, and sometimes, progress was painful.

“Bastian knows talent when he sees it,” Sierra said. “If he loved your work, he would have said so, regardless of your methods.”

“So you’re saying my work sucks?”

“Not at all,” Sierra replied, wishing people didn’t leap to conclusions. “What I’m saying is your work isn’t yet up to Bastian’s standards.”

Camille’s eyes grew damp. Her lower lip trembled. Sierra had to remind herself that the other woman was only twenty-one. They were all still learning how to make their way in the world. She’d just gone about it the wrong way the first time.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not talented, Camille,” she said. “It just means you’re going to have to work extra hard if you want to capture the attention of someone like Bastian.”

Wiping a tear, Camille dared a glance in Sierra’s direction. “You think so?”

“Definitely. In fact, while I don’t consider myself an expert on the subject, I’d be willing to help you work on sharpening your skills.”

Camille looked dubious. “You’d help me after what I did to you?”

Sierra shrugged. “Well, you’d have to come clean with Bastian, and we’d need to work out a payment arrangement for me to do so. I’m thinking the commission on the Brinkman shoot is a fair enough rate. What do you say?”

Camille’s mouth opened, closed, and opened again. “Why would you do this for me? You could have demanded that I be fired. You could have filed a formal complaint or criminal charges. I’ve made myself sick thinking you would. Why aren’t you doing those things?”

Thinking back to the previous day, Sierra battled a rush of emotion. The answer to Camille’s question was easy enough, she supposed, even if it was painful.

“Lucky for you,” she said, “I’m too nice.”