The Weakness in Me (31 page)

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Authors: Josie Leigh

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: The Weakness in Me
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“So what now?” Sammy asked, watching the car chew up the miles from Covington back toward home, a
pensive look coming over her face, alerting Jason to something more beyond the surface of her question.

“We pick up where we left off,” Jason shrugged, completely serious.

“You mean before we walked in on Missy on your corduroy sofa?” she smirked.

“No, I mean, where we left off before my mother’s scheming got in the way of the future we’d planned together,” he answered, frankly, sliding his eyes to hers as the car coasted to a stop at a red light.

“What are you saying, Jason?” her voice was suddenly shocked and breathless.

“I’m saying we follow through on the promise we made to each other almost seven years ago.
Marry me,” he pleaded.

“That’s not exactly the most romantic way to ask me, Jason,” Sammy laughed, but the way she said the words gave him hope.

“I’m under a time crunch here, Sammy. I have a trip booked to Vegas in a couple of days and I was hoping…,” he trailed off.


We’ve only been back together a month! When did you book that trip?” the shocked look on her face was even more encouraging. He’d expected her to be angry.

“I want to adopt Corigan,” he confessed.
“And I don’t know how much longer I can survive without you having my name, Sammy.”

“Wow,” she breathed.
“I don’t know what to say.”

“I booked the trip the morning after I woke up in bed with your body wrapped around mine for the first time in six years.
I hoped that I wouldn’t be making the journey alone.”

“You
won’t be alone on that trip, Jason. I promise,” Sammy smiled, grabbing for his hand across the car console.

“Good,” he smiled back.

Epilogue

 

(5 years later)

Wind whipped through the evergreens surrounding the small cemetery as Jason helped Sammy from the car. Corigan chased after her baby brother as Sammy linked arms with her husband.

“Are you going to be okay, Jason?” she asked in her most soothing tone.
“I know it’s been awhile since you’ve seen her. Are you ready for this?”

“He was my dad, Sammy.
I have to,” he said, sadly, looking at her softly.

“Okay,” she answered, moving her hand down his arm to entwine their fingers in a show of support.
“I’m here.”

“I know, thank you,” he let a tiny smile form on his lips as Corigan led Jonah back to them, her brown curls falling over her face in frustration.

“Daddy, is Jonah part jackrabbit?” she asked, grabbing his other hand while keeping hold of her brother’s elbow.

“Jonah, you need to stay with us, honey.
This isn’t a good place to horse around,” Sammy admonished, holding out her free hand for him to take his place beside her.

“Fine, mommy,” he pouted as they finally made their way to the fresh grave toward the rear of the cemetery.

 

**

 

Jason clutched Sammy’s hand through the services as he listened to the minister gloss over everything his father had accomplished during his years on this Earth. He gave her a sad smile as they walked toward the casket to say good bye.

“Good-bye, dad.
I wish things could have been different these last few years,” he whispered.

“They could have been,” he heard his mother growl from behind him.
“If you’d made the right decision, I mean,” she nodded her head at Sammy, who kissed his cheek and pulled her hand from his to guide their children away from the inevitable argument. Once they were out of earshot, he turned on his mother.

“You have another grandson, mom; don’t you want to know him?
Isn’t it bad enough that dad didn’t get to meet him?” Jason asked, looking at the distance and pain in his mother’s bloodshot eyes.

“Not if
it
shares her DNA, Jason,” she answered, coldly, before backing away from the receiving line and walking away from her husband’s casket.

Jason walked to join
his family as he watched her retreating form. Pulling them close to him, he kissed the crown of his son’s head. “It’s her loss, Sammy. It always has been,” he looked up at the sad look on his wife’s face.

“I just wish she’d find a way to escape her self-imposed purgatory, Jason.
Regardless of what happened, she’s missing out on the lives of two amazing children because of me and my family,” she frowned.

“Well, all she has now is her scotch to comfort her,” Jason whispered.
“And I know how empty that can leave a person.”

“Maybe she’ll get to know the next one,” she shrugged, patting the slight bulge in her belly, tears in her eyes for what might’ve been with her mother-in-law.

“If she doesn’t, Caleb’s parents will be more than happy to be there,” he said, taking her arm to lead her and his family back to the car. “Our kids want for nothing when it comes to love, Sammy. And if I have my way, they’ll never have to.”

“Speaking of,” Sammy said, drawing Corigan to her side.
“Let go visit your dad before we leave, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy,” Corigan hugged her as they walked the familiar path.

 

Acknowledgements

 

First and foremost, I always have to thank my husband for reading everything I write, eventually, and for always being supportive of me and my endeavors.  No book boyfriend could ever be as incredible as you.

Thank you to DiDi Names for editing this book and being the first one to read it cover to cover twice and still loving it.  I’m so grateful to have a friend like you!

Thank you to Ronda for listening to me babble on about plot points and helping me work out what I wanted this story to be at 6:30am most days.

Thank you to all my readers, including Janna, who hated ‘Love but Never’, but still agreed to read for me, you have helped me shape this book into more than what I ever thought it could be.

Thank you to my family and friends who support me as I fumble through this process, but can’t stop writing.  And thank you to my girls for never thinking I’m weird when I stop in the middle of whatever we are doing to write down a scene or dialogue that pops into my head- or if we are driving, being quiet so I can dictate it into my phone via voice to text.

The inspiration for this book came years ago from the
music video for ‘Quiet Things that No One Ever Knows’ by Brand New.  It was a difficult story to write and I got blocked more times than I can count!  The bulk of this story was written during National Novel Writing month, because I was determined to finish it.  After seeing the finished product, I’m so glad I did. 

 

About the Author

 

Josie was born and raised in a small town in the Phoenix Metro area of Arizona.  She has deep love and roots in both Washington and Ohio.  Her passions include writing, reading, football and all things Ohio State related.  She still resides in Arizona with her husband, two daughters, two unruly dogs, and one young-at-heart cat.

 

Email:
[email protected]

Twitter: @leigh_josie

Blog: www.joeskatan.blogspot.com

 

See below for an excerpt from Josie’s next book:

Drama Free 2003

Lucas is unabashedly sexual.  Although society’s rules would call her a slut, she’s never felt like one.  She doesn’t have time for relationships or love, until one night pretending to date her friend, Brady, changes everything.

Brady
is a divorced, single father.  He never wants to fall in love again and makes an effort to keep his heart out of reach to everyone but his daughter, until he agrees to help Lucas show a member of her corral that she’s no longer interested.  Who knew something so wrong on paper could feel so right?

Introduction

Lucas

“10!” Everyone starts the make shift countdown to midnight, staring at the second-hand of my living room clock.  I’m positive that it’s fast and we are prematurely counting down the New Year, but it’s okay.  At least this shitty year will be over, finally.  2002 was not a banner year, and I’m hoping that 2003 will be better.  If it’s not, I swear to GOD, I’m leaving this God-forsaken state and moving far, far away.  The thirty minute move to Tempe had helped, but not enough.

“5!” My eyes slide to my ‘date’ for the evening, a good friend who agreed to pretend to be my temporary conquest so Trevor would get the point that it wasn’t going to happen between us.  My date is nice enough, if not a bit quiet.  He’s good looking, too- short, brown hair, beautiful steel blue eyes, which are similar to my own, oval features, with a gash mark scar on the left side of his chin.  He’s taller than me, but only by two to three inches, and I’ve learned tonight that I fit perfectly under his arm as we snuggle on the floor beside my living room window.

“1!  Happy New Year!” my guests yell and turn to kiss their dates or hug the friend they came with.  Trevor shoots me a hopeful smile and I turn to Brady and give him a nervous, but questioning, look.  With a shrug, he pulls me close and plants a sweet kiss on my forehead before settling my head against his chest.  “Here’s to a drama free year,” he whispers in my ear, as my face heats at my reaction to being so close to him.  I can’t wipe the silly grin off my face at the kiss he gave me on my forehead.  I know he’d never be truly interested in me.  He’s seen me retreat to my bedroom during a party with far too many guys to really want to be with me.  I’d be lying to myself if I said that before that moment, I’d ever considered being with him either. 

Yet, through the course of the evening, something inside me had changed and he was all I could see.  Trying to push the thought away, I did my best to enjoy the remainder of the party before saying good night to those not sleeping on my living room floor and collapsing on my, now, lonely queen sized bed.  Is there a way I could get Brady interested in me, without compromising who I was?  I doubted it.  I was destined to be the girl that flitted from hook up to hook up, never able to find the guy she was really supposed to share her life with.  I was okay with that, though, because it meant I never had to compromise what I wanted out of life because of someone else’s whims.

As I drifted off to sleep, a montage of the terrible year I’d just left behind skittered across my brain.  I lost my grandma and childhood dog to cancer.  My best friend to a whore was supposed to be my friend, too.  My first love was gone because I’d learned I couldn’t trust him.  To top off the year that was like a giant sundae filled with poo, I’d been fired for the first time ever and forced to take a job nearly forty miles away from where I’d lived.  The only good things that happened were my move from Southeast
Mesa to Tempe, where I finally lived alone, and transferring to Arizona State after getting my Associates degree.  Yes, 2003 needed to be the best year ever to wipe out the bitter taste 2002 still left in my mouth.

 

Chapter 1

 

“You’re late,” Amy, my supervisor, said as I ran into the back office to clock in.

“I know!  I’m sorry!” I groveled, before straightening my tan blazer and walking around the back wall to the desk.

“You live across the street, Lucas,” she reminded me, as she handed me the shift checklist and motioned toward the registration forms.  I’d had the name Lucas my entire life, but went by Lucy until I was in high school.  Once the teen angst takes over, having a boy’s name was suddenly cool and didn’t get me made fun of anymore.  Everyone who’d met me since high school called me Lucas, but my family and friends I’d had my whole life still insisted on calling me Lucy.  “You know what that means don’t you?”

“I get to do the bucket check tonight, I know,” I grumbled and went about printing out a room list.  “Ugh, I know that the list of pay in advance rooms’ll be, at least, two pages, too.”

“Yup,” she grinned, satisfied that I was sufficiently punished for being five minutes late.

“You would’ve made me do the check tonight anyway, though.  Even if I wasn’t late,” I told her, running back to the antiquated dot matrix printer to grab the forms I’d printed out.

“It’s true,” she said, flipping her ash blonde hair over her shoulder and polishing her nails against her blazer before cracking a smile.

“Slave driver,” I mumbled in mock petulance.

“Lazy,” she laughed as I went about checking the registration forms against the room list versus signatures and credit card imprints.  The bucket check was the most tedious job on the shift checklist, but also the most important.  It was, easily, the difference between winning and losing a credit card dispute that might occur in the future with a past guest.  I was grateful that we were filled to capacity tonight, but having to double check three hundred plus rooms for correct information takes hours to complete.

“I’m going to run to the bar and grab a glass of diet brown stuff,” Amy said, pulling my attention away from my task.  “Do you want anything?”

“Non-diet brown stuff?” I asked, pulling down the P.I.A. (or paid in advanced) list from the previous shift.  The soda in the bar was not name brand, and didn’t taste like regular cola or diet cola, hence the less than appetizing name for our beverages of choice.

“Or do you want to go?  I know Adam’s in the kitchen tonight,” she grinned at me, like my date with Adam was a secret, when I knew everyone on the property gossiped constantly.

“That’s okay,” I said, not looking up from the room numbers I’m filling in on the new form.  “I’m sure I’ll catch him later.”

“Oooh, trouble in paradise?” she asked, taking a seat on the dip in the front desk between our computers.  Amy was, by far, my favorite supervisor at the resort.  She was young at heart, but old enough to be my mother.  She was constantly dressing up her uniform with knee high leather boots and scarves.  She was a widow who moved to Arizona from Las Vegas, but her passion for life was prevalent in everything she does. 
However, gossip was something she
lived
for, and she didn’t let a single piece pass her by.

“It’s not like that with him,” I tried to relax my shoulders at the inquisition I knew was coming, still focusing on the list in front of me, though not being nearly as diligent as I should have been about double checking a list that’s gone through every shift.  “Did room 115 check out early?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

Hearing the tapping of her manicured nails on her keyboard, I stick their folio form sideways so that I can continue.  “Yes, they weren’t scheduled to leave until tomorrow.  Thank God!  That means one less room we have to walk tonight!”

“Thank God is right!” I laughed.  “Do we have a walk rate negotiated already?”

“Ugh, NO!” she growled, “I’ll take care of it after I run and grab our caffeine.  And don’t think you’ve gotten out of talking about Adam.”

Rolling my eyes at the metal containers in front of me, I mumbled, “I know,” over my shoulder as she left the desk.  As soon as I heard the door close behind me, my eyes drifted toward the television set up in the lobby for bowl season.  The sounds of the Rose Bowl pre-game show were filling the, surprisingly, bustling area. 

Because the hotel fairies work fast, the Christmas tree was already packed away for another year, which prevented bored front desk employees from trying to flip key cards in to it.  The poinsettias littering every available surface of the lobby, from the baby grand to the rustic coffee tables, even the floors beside the pleather couches and window ledges, were the only sign that it was still the holiday season.  The lobby had a high end southwestern feel to it, all dusty colors, weird cacti, and clay tile floors, but the walls were half brick/half glass, providing an illusion of light and dark.  The wood and glass work throughout the hotel was something to marvel at, though, between intricate carvings on the banquet hall doors and the stained glass inlay dotting the entryways and the gift shop walls.

“It’s New Years’ Day,” Amy announced as she reappeared from the bar.  “Aren’t hotels supposed to be slow?” she groaned.

“You’d think!  It was a ghost town at Thanksgiving, but we were busy on Christmas because of the Insight bowl, remember?  Now we’re busy because of the Fiesta Bowl,” I shrugged, shoving the first half of the bucket to the side and pulling the next half toward me.

“It’s the bands staying here.  That’s why it’s so nut balls crazy, right?”

“I’m guessing so, but I’ve only worked here since September, so you’ll have to tell me.”

“Usually, the bands aren’t that big, but this one is gigantic!”

“There are two hundred and twenty five members,” I informed her, proudly.

“And at four members per room, plus their directors and roadies, they still have nearly eighty rooms!” she lamented, before turning toward me with a raised eyebrow.  “How do you know how many of them there are?” she asked.

“It’s TBDBITL!  Of course I know how many there are!”  I said, trying to act affronted, but I know that I’ve just passed, or failed, a nerd test.

“That’s because Lucas is in love with everything Ohio State,” Brian announced as he took his place at the bell desk.

“Don’t you have someone to pick up at the airport?” I scowled at him.

“I just saw Adam rocking a Hurricane’s sweatshirt in the bar,” Amy said. “Is that why you guys ‘aren’t like that’?”

Groaning inwardly, I tried hard not to roll my eyes at Amy’s words, because I know Brian was just waiting for an in on what was going on with me and one of the line cooks in the restaurant.  As bad as Amy was about gossip, Brian was a thousand times worse, and she knew it.  Almost nothing could stop them from double teaming me for information.

“Don’t you have to set up a walk rate and figure out who we’re sending over?” I reminded her, hoping to change the subject again.

“Oh no, Luke!  You aren’t getting out of that question,” Brian said, sidling up to the desk to hear whatever confession I’m about to make.

“No, the difference in sports teams isn’t the issue,” I told them.  “The issue is that he thinks I
may
be too wild for him,” this time I did roll my eyes.

“Really?!” Amy’s mouth dropped open at my words, as Brian started to snort with laughter.

“Pot smoking, drinking at Casey Moore’s every other night Adam is afraid you are too wild for him?”  Brian asked, incredulously.  “You didn’t give it up on the first date, did you?”

“Ugh, no,” I said.  “It wasn’t really a date, we just went for drinks, but I didn’t invite him home with me,” I shook my head.

“Then, how would he get that impression?” Amy asked, trying to calm her reaction.

“I may have gotten a couple of phone calls when we were out?” I shrugged, throwing my shoulder length artificial blue black hair over my shoulder, trying to play it off.

“And?”

“They were just phone calls from other guys asking what I was up to, and if I wanted to hang out,” I frowned.

“So he thinks you are a player?” Amy laughed, “Aren’t guys usually all over a girl that doesn’t want a commitment?”

“I know this guy is!” Brian agreed, pointing at himself and shooting us a smarmy grin.  I pressed my fingers to my forehead and closed my eyes, waiting for the urge to growl in frustration to pass.  Brian, while not an unattractive man, was definitely well past old enough to be my father, but not quite old enough to be my grandfather, and a confirmed bachelor.  He was the first to tell you that he’d rather spend his time golfing than with a ‘whiny woman.’  I, secretly, wondered if he was gay.  It was possible that he was just a washed up semi-pro golfer, never good enough to make the tour, that wasn’t ready to give up the golf groupies.

“They were just friends,” I lie.  “Besides, I’m
not
looking for a commitment right now, why shouldn’t I be honest about that?  He did bring me soup on Saturday, though, when I was home sick.  That was sweet,” I let out a small smile at my words, because I did enjoy Adam taking care of me more than I’d ever admit to mixed company.  Just then, the whoosh of the automatic doors signaled the first of many check ins, effectively dropping the subject for most of the remainder of the shift. 

“So, what’d you do last night?” I asked Amy when there was a lull in the evening.  The marching band members wanted transportation to anywhere fun in Tempe all night, and we were exhausted from coordinating their pickups and drop offs, airport runs and Fiesta Bowl package recipients checking in.

“A bunch of us went to D and E’s, fun times,” she smiled.  “You?”

“Josh and I had to work the desk last night until eleven, so I just went home,” I shrugged.  “It just wasn’t enough time to get anywhere fun and we aren’t allowed to drink here.”

“You didn’t do
anything
?  Come on, Lucas, you know I’m not going to buy that,” she said, leveling me with a ‘mom’ look and bending down to yank her knee high black boots back into place.  I had no idea how she stood for eight hours on those things, I doubted I’d last eight minutes.

“Well, I did have a couple of friends over, but nothing like usual,” I said, absently alphabetizing the registration forms from the people who checked out that day.

“I’m disappointed,” she pouted.  “No super topless lap dances to ring in the New Year?  Are you going soft on me?”

“Is that what goes on at your parties?” a voice asked from the other side of the desk, behind me.  I closed my eyes briefly, before turning away from
Amy’s amusement to face Adam.  If I hadn’t been prepared for the look on his face, which was a perfect mix of disgust and intrigue, I would’ve laughed.  Adam was an interesting guy, but was starting to become a paradox I wasn’t sure I wanted to decipher.  He was attractive enough, over six feet tall, slightly bulky in a toned way, bald head, and the most beautiful aqua blue eyes I’d ever seen.  Add to that the fact that he was a culinary school graduate, it put him over the top on pros, which made me say yes when he asked me for drinks last week.

“Um, sometimes, not last night,” I answered, distractedly.  “What’s up?” I asked, hoping to find out what brought him to my part of the hotel.  I knew Adam was more interested than disgusted by the idea of topless lap dances though because he was a boob man.  It wasn’t hard to figure out; he hadn’t stopped staring at mine since he met me.  Even if I hadn’t noticed the fixation, he told me that he and the male restaurant staff ogle me when I come in for dinner on my nights off.  It was a great ice breaker on a ‘first date.’

However, I couldn’t fault them.  I knew my breasts were spectacular and I used them to my advantage, frequently, even though I could make a stellar case for a reduction as they were far too large for my frame.  I was five foot seven with a slender waist and what my mom called child bearing hips.  The right pair of heels took my long legs to another level entirely, even though they were so white they were blinding.  My hair was naturally a mousy brown, but a drunken night with a few friends in October had turned my brown hair into a controversial blue black.  My favorite feature, though, were my eyes.  Depending on the day, they could be the color of the sky before a storm or the ocean on a cloudless day.  My irises were circled in black, making the blue pop, along with thick, dark lashes.  My mom always told me that even though my eyes changed color, it never gave away my thoughts or mood.  She told me that my emotions were like the vault of secrets, I never let anyone in.

“Not much, just came to say hi cause we didn’t hang out last night,” he said, looking around the now deserted lobby.  “We just finished closing out the kitchen,” he explained.

“That’s cool.  Amy and I still have an hour until night audit shows,” I told him, trying not to sound as awkward as I felt, knowing that Amy and Danny, the night driver, were watching the exchange between us carefully. Brian had gone home a few hours earlier, thank goodness!

“So you had a party last night and you didn’t call?” he asked, his voice betraying a small amount of hurt.

“I didn’t have a party, I called my friend, Brady, before I left and he was hanging out with a couple of people.  They were looking for something to do, so they came over and we played poker.  Funnily enough, I didn’t even mean to call Brady, but his roommate’s number is one digit different than his,” I babbled, not sure why I was sharing so much.  “I didn’t want to be rude, so I invited him over instead.”

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