Chapter 16

Author’s Note: There’s a lot going on right now, and this is going to be quite a time of drama and change for our group. Hopefully you’ll enjoy as these changes transform them – hopefully for the better.

And, just like that, I was back at the airport. The private jet went wheels up less than an hour after Kat had called. My hands were shaking, and my thoughts drifted back to the flight Kat, Jess, and I had taken when we got the news of Dr. V’s unexpected death a few years before. Except this time I was all alone. Kat filled me in on the details.

After the party, Jamie and Katie were driving home. He got t-boned by a driver who ran a red light. Straight into the passenger side of his Bentley. Right where Katie had been sitting. The German engineering of the car had kept it from being a fatal accident, but Katie was in bad shape. Kat didn’t have many details, but she said it was bad enough that they needed me home right away.

There was also a complication. The police had found cocaine in Katie’s purse. This had all the makings of becoming a first-rate scandal for the Houston football team, just as it looked like it was on the cusp of sustainable success for the first time in decades. The media were already thrashing into a frenzy. There was no way Jamie wouldn’t come back with some measurable BAC level. And we all knew what the toxicology texts on him and Katie would show. There were huge risks here. For Jamie. For Katie. And for Infinity.

Kat and Rita met me at the airport. Their eyes were red and puffy. I had sobered enough to drive, giving the girls a break.

“I’m so sorry we had to bother you, daddy,” Kat said, her nose still stuffy – and not from cocaine for once. “But we didn’t know what else to do.”

“No,” I insisted, “you did the right thing. There’s nowhere else I’d want to be.”

They filled me in on the latest. Katie was in a medically-induced coma. They needed to bring down some swelling in her brain. She had a concussion, broken right wrist, a couple cracked ribs, and a broken ankle.

“They won’t let us see them,” Rita said, her voice shaking.

“They have Jamie handcuffed to his hospital bed!” Kat said, almost hysterical.

“It wasn’t even much coke,” Rita said angrily. “Like, who gives a shit?”

“We need to get home and get some xanax,” Kat admitted.

“Did Jamie call a lawyer?” I asked. “Did Katie?”

“The team sent a lawyer for Jamie,” Rita said. “A good one.”

By the time we got home, the first articles had popped up on the local news. But it was obviously handled with kid gloves so far. It mentioned the Houston backup quarterback had been involved in a car accident, that it wasn’t his fault, and that a passenger in the car had been seriously injured. There was no discussion of drugs, nothing about an arrest. Within ten minutes, I had gotten in touch with a great criminal lawyer I knew through my usual guy. We would have a call later in the day to discuss details.

“We need to get a lawyer,” a scratchy voice came from the entrance of our bedroom.

It was Jess.

“Just finished that,” I said.

“John!” she shrieked and ran to hug me.

She threw her arms around my neck and held me almost painfully tight for at least a full minute.

“This is trouble,” she said. “I’m in trouble.” She hesitated. “I’m sorry.”

“Let’s take care of this first,” I said. “We can deal with the rest later.”

But, as it turned out, there wasn’t a whole lot to take care of. At least not after getting the lawyer on board. Katie stayed in a coma for a day. Then a second. We set up a shift system at the hospital. Days stretched into a week. And then, on a muggy, gray morning full of thunderstorms that thrashed rain against windows, Kat called from the hospital.

“Katie’s awake,” she reported.

The story had broken more widely by then, too. Jamie had been charged with driving under the influence and possession of cocaine. There was a moderate frenzy, especially in the local sports media, and they were clamoring for more details about the pretty young blonde in the car with the backup quarterback.

It felt like the world was spinning, and I couldn’t control it. It sent shivers through me to see Katie awake again, and I adored seeing her smile. It was weak and drugged, but it still packed the electricity of her personality. There had been a time when I thought I’d never see it again. She was bruised and jaundiced. But she was healing. The doctors were optimistic for her recovery. She hadn’t even required surgery.

My share of Homecoming’s streaming rights had hit the bank account like Petey had promised. I didn’t even have time to deal with it, but I confess to looking at my balance and simply staring in awe. But there was a more pressing issue.

Juliet. I missed her. She missed me. She begged me to come back to LA, but she also understood I needed some time. I floated the idea of her coming to visit us in Houston, but she shot that down. It made sense. She didn’t need to be anywhere near a whiff of scandal. But we needed to get together. So after Katie woke up, Rita told me to get my ass on a plane. I protested, but she knew it was half-hearted. I still hadn’t talked to Jess about the Tommy incident. Or whatever it had been.

So I got on the plane. Katie was in good hands, and there was only so much I could do there. LA felt like more of an escape than ever. But I knew something was up as soon as I stepped out of the cabin in Van Nuys. Juliet was there, waiting for me.

Our hug was familiar, our bodies melting into one another. The welcome back kiss was as warm and endearing as ever. We made small talk in the car, mostly about Katie. Hearing Juliet react to all of it, even though we had talked on the phone and texted about it, made me realize that her compassion and empathy was part of what made her personality so magnetic. She was being genuine.

“I’m really glad you came out,” she said, removing one hand from the steering wheel of her BMW convertible and putting it on mine. “I’ve missed you so much.” She hesitated, and I knew there was something else.

“And?” I added, expectantly.

“And we need to talk,” she said.

There it was.

“About?” I said, unable to hide the reticence in my voice.

“Let’s get to the house first,” she said.

It was good and natural being back with Juliet. The drive to our house in the Hollywood Hills barely took thirty minutes.

“Champagne?” I asked when we got inside.

Juliet grinned at me. She wore baggy white pants and a midriff-revealing blue shirt. Her hair was tousled from the drive with the top-down. She was gorgeous.

“Yes, please,” she said.

I gave myself a mental pat on the back for keeping the fridge stocked with bubbly at all times and popped a bottle of Bollinger before pouring out two generous glasses. I raised my glass to Juliet’s. Standing across the bar from her, I made a point to hold eye contact with her. Her blue eyes sparkled and danced. They always did, but there was a new depth and magic to them right now.

“I’m really glad to see you,” I said, and the crystal glasses clinked musically.

“I’ve got so much to tell you, John,” Juliet said.

Did I detect a crack in her voice? She hooked a ringlet of blonde hair behind her air and looked down. Then she bit the corner of her lower lip and looked back up at me.

“I don’t think I’ve been this nervous in a long time,” I admitted. “Just say it. Whatever it is, it’s not a big deal.”