Was it strange that I sometimes hoped it was the latter?
Whatever I was feeling about him, I wasn’t sure. And I wasn’t ready to disrupt the status quo. “He’s another reason that I shouldn’t go. Thank you for validating my decision.”
Ben scooped a handful of peanuts from the dish on the counter. “Are you worried it will be awkward?”
“She’s worried she’ll let him back in her pants,” Liesl chimed in.
“I am not!” But my denial was fueled by the irritation that she’d read me correctly. I hadn’t told a soul that I’d had second thoughts about him. The problem was that while Chandler had previously been a source of escape, now he was potentially more. For the first time, I was able to see what kind of relationship we could have. What could be possible if my heart weren’t elsewhere.
But my heart was elsewhere. At least, part of it was. It was hard to decide about my whole heart given how much I didn’t know about JC. If anything were still possible between us, it wouldn’t happen until I got to know him. And if things didn’t work out, well, I wasn’t exactly ruling Chandler out anymore.
Laynie didn’t miss a thing. “You’re protesting awfully hard. What’s with that? Are you thinking about giving him another chance?”
I considered lying and then remembered I wasn’t any good at it. “I don’t know. Maybe. Down the road. I just need a little more time to think.” In other words, I was still waiting on JC. But since he hadn’t made any move to contact me and the trial was almost over, my hopes of hearing from him were shredding.
And Independence Day was the day I’d chosen to be over him. Which was tomorrow. I’d told myself that was null and void since he’d shown up again, but the idea had been set so firmly in my head that the date felt like an ending now no matter what.
Alayna leaned a hand on the bar. “Chandler isn’t your only option for a date. You could invite someone else. Someone from your past—hint, hint. It doesn’t have to be the Fourth of July you thought it was going to be.”
I shut the laptop, giving up on any computer work. “I already made an effort when I went to court. He knows I’m here. He needs to make the next move.”
She pursed her lips. We’d had this discussion before. Laynie thought I was playing the situation too cool. But she wasn’t one to let a man go once she’d set her sights on him, and her obsessions were unhealthy, so she recommended I take her advice with a grain of salt.
Still, she couldn’t help but give her input. “He can’t reach out to you if he doesn’t know how to find you.”
“If he looks, he’ll find me. I texted his old phone number after the trial. I don’t know if it works anymore, but just in case. Matt took a leave of absence from Eighty-Eighth Floor, but I left a message for him and another manager to give JC if he came looking for me. The club is the only lead he has on me, so I’m sure that’s where he’ll go.”
“Was that a good idea?” Ben’s tone belied his worry.
“Leaving a message at Eighty-Eighth? Matt is completely trustworthy, and Alyssa is the only other person I told,” I assured him. “Matt’s message says to talk to Alyssa and I made her promise to only tell JC or Matt where I was if they asked in person.” I didn’t add that my trust for Alyssa was thin. It would only put Ben more on edge. I, on the other hand, wasn’t as concerned about my father as I’d once been. He’d been gone for so long, he didn’t feel like a real threat, while my need to see JC was concrete.
“Then he must still be in custody or he’s staying low until the trial is over,” Laynie said with confidence. “Otherwise he’d be here.”
It was sweet how she defended him when she didn’t even know him, simply because she knew it was what I wanted to hear. I appreciated it.
I almost believed her, too. It made sense that he’d be tied up until the trial was over, so that was what I waited for. Every day I checked the news, hoping to hear it had ended. As of the Friday before, the jury had the case. Any moment, they could reach a decision. Any moment, JC could be free.
Meanwhile, I was anxious. Some minutes moved slowly, like they’d been drenched in molasses, but then others would fly by with lightning speed, disappearing in chunks of time that I couldn’t account for. As much as I wanted the verdict to come in, I was also aware that Mennezzo might not be convicted. Then, what? Would the case go to appeals? Would JC have to hide again?
But the worst of my anxiety wasn’t centered on Mennezzo possibly getting off. It was worrying that he’d be put away, and JC still wouldn’t try to find me.