5. It’s A Long List

EVANGELINE

Ipull the door open to the cafe and see a familiar silver-haired, elegant woman at the counter. I thought taking a walk through the park would put some distance between me and Darren, but running into Audrina squashes that.

"Evangeline," she beams.

I let go of the door handle and take my place in line.

"Audrina Ellwood." She holds her slender hand out to introduce herself to me again, as if I could forget meeting her. The mental image that Darren put in my head of her wearing a dominatrix outfit whipping donations out of D.C.'s upper crust almost makes me laugh.

Goddammit, Darren.

"So nice to see you again." I extend my hand to take hers. "Sorry it's cold, I was just out for a walk," I attempt to explain my disheveled appearance. My hair has started to come undone from my ponytail and my jacket and sweatpants don't compare to Audrina's elegant red cashmere coat and designer heels.

"Ah, well, the only refreshing walk I get is rushing across Pennsylvania avenue without getting run over I'm afraid," she teases.

The line moves up. "Excuse me," I say and order a flat white, digging into my jacket pocket to pay and then notice Audrina waiting for me by the pick-up counter.

"I'm so glad I ran into you."

I'm beginning to doubt it was a coincidence.

"I wanted to talk to you about the foundation."

I can feel my cheeks heat at the thought of what happened at the charity event, and I can only imagine what she thinks of me. "I'm sorry about ruining the event," I apologize.

"Oh please, you didn't ruin anything," she brushes me off.

"I don't know what got into Darren, but he's very sorry for causing a scene," I make an excuse – more for my sake than for Darren's.

"I think the evening was a bit more emotional for him then he anticipated. In fact, I probably shouldn't have pushed him into making a speech so soon after Merrill," she pauses, taking a breath.

"Anyway, I wanted to ask what role you'd like in the foundation. I mean, I understand you wouldn't want to take on everything right away, but at least get your feet wet," she starts to explain, but before she can finish, the barista calls out her order to be picked up.

"Oh, I wasn't planning on…" But what am I going to tell her, that my marriage is an arrangement?

"But you must," her voice is shrill. "You're a Walker. Certainly Darren explained things?"

"Explained what things?" I ask, confused.

"Oh, I thought he would have…" she pauses, shaking her head. "I'm sure he's been busy. He has my number. Call me and we can go over everything."

I barely have time to register anything before she says her goodbyes, a gust of wind whipping through the café as the door slowly closes in her wake.

"Flat white!" the barista calls out, and I take my drink to one of the empty tables by the window.

Someone left an old copy of The Post, and I notice the photo on the front of Kerry and Merrill's memorial at the National Cathedral. I flip through the pages to get to the rest of the article and see a picture of Darren and me entering the church. I'm pleasantly surprised that there isn't a mention of when we married, just a caption listing our names: Darren and Evangeline Walker. I can't help but notice our hands clasped together as we take the stairs to the entrance of the church.

My phone vibrates against my thigh.

"Hi, honey, how ya doing?" Cleo's clear voice on the other end brings a smile to my face.

"I'm okay," I sigh, folding the paper and pushing it to the side.

"Uh oh, that doesn't sound good. Is Darren freaky? Let me guess, he has a playroom – likes pain – does he make you dress up in a maid's outfit?" Cleo teases, and I can't help but laugh.

"No, but I did have to dress up like Jessica Rabbit and wear a mask, does that count?" I give a light laugh.

"Ooh, kinky," Cleo laughs undeterred.

"Not quite, it was for a charity event," I explain.

"You don't sound happy," she notices.

I can hear the creak of the couch as she shifts her weight, most likely curling up like a cat. I've never felt more homesick than I do now, and that's probably why I haven't called her.

"If I was getting five million dollars to marry a man as young and handsome as Darren Walker, I would dress up like Jessica Rabbit every day," she whistles.

I chuckle into the phone. "Money isn't everything," I remind her.

"I'm covering my ears and pretending I didn't hear that," she jokes.

"It's just very different then I thought it would be," I admit.

"What's different?"

I want to say that I didn't expect to have all these emotions swirling around inside me, but that would open me up to Cleo's scrutiny. She doesn't know that I live in the house of a man that I pined over for four years. I can barely admit it to myself.

Instead, I say, "I didn't think I would be roped into the board of a charity foundation." An expectation that Darren didn't mention anything about to me. Was I really expected to take something on like that with legitimate wives of politicians, doctors, and well-to-dos? Not to mention, I have no experience working on a charity. I can't help but wonder if Darren didn't say anything to me on purpose.

"Is that really all?" Cleo challenges. "Because working on a charity sounds like a good thing. How else are you going to spend your time – besides shopping?"

Her question strikes me like an arrow, because I don't have an answer. I didn't think that far ahead. I'd spent so much time just keeping my head above water that I never had a chance to think about the future. Now, I have what seems like an endless amount of time.

"I don't know. I'll have to think about it," I sigh. "Tell me, what have you been up to?" I ask to take the heat off myself, and mostly so that I can hear her voice some more.

* * *

My walk hadn't cleared my mind. It only served to make it more cloudy. When I get back to the house I head straight for the gym. I've only used it a handful of times, preferring to get in a run outside, but the weather has turned into the cool, wet fall I had always imagined as a kid who grew up in the desert. I wasn't used to different seasons and the way the weather can change so drastically throughout the day. I find myself enjoying the rain, and the way the trees change colors and lose their leaves as if shedding away the old to make way for the new.

As I finish my set, Darren stops abruptly in the doorway.

The silence in the gym is tangible. Our eyes lock in the mirror. I once thought the house was too big for only two people, but now it feels suffocatingly small. He breaks the stare by sitting down on the weight bench behind me. His perpetually messy brown locks fall into his eyes as he leans down to set his water bottle on the floor. There's a two-day old shadow of hair along his jaw. He's wearing a navy Hoyas t-shirt that stretches across his chest, annoyingly too small, showing the definition of his youthful physique.

I watch as he lays down on the bench, sliding under the barbell. Hesitating for a moment, he looks in my direction, catching me watching. The grin on his face causes me to look away. "I would ask you to spot me, but after you almost took my eye out, I'm not sure if you'd try to suffocate me, too."

"Probably a good call." I set the bar back on the rack and grab my water bottle.

"You could have caused permanent damage to my eye," Darren grunts, taking a drink from his sports bottle.

"Don't be dramatic." I sit on the mat, wiping sweat from my forehead.

Darren pulls his shirt off, making a show of it, and lays back down on the bench positioning his hands on the barbell. Now that the extra weight is off, he lifts it easily from the rack, his stomach muscles contracting, giving him that deep V cut that runs under the waistband of his sweatpants. I wish I was immune to how good-looking he is, especially because I'm still pissed at him, but I'm not.

Snapping out of it, I throw the towel on the floor beside me and say, "You know you can't just barge in on me whenever you want."

"Sorry, I thought since I'd already tasted your cunt, modesty was the last thing to worry about."

His words cause me to swallow hard, but his ambivalence irritates me.

"That's not the point, especially since you don't even sleep in there with me."

Parting my legs into a V, I lean forward into a deep stretch. My ponytail falls forward as I rest my forearms on the mat when I see Darren's gym shoes planted in front of me. I tip my head, my eyes traveling up his legs to his stomach where his sweatpants sit tantalizingly low on his hips – maybe a bit too low. Maybe even on purpose.

"I wasn't aware that you wanted me in your bed." He lifts an eyebrow, his deep voice full of innuendo.

"I don't."

He makes a disbelieving noise, then grabs one of the free weights. I watch the veins travel up his forearm as if waking from slumber.

He's looking at me with an amused expression, the corners of his lips pulling into a smug smile that makes me want to smack him.

"Plotting how you can get maximum force to kick me in the balls, or do you just like the view?" he muses smugly, continuing to curl the weight, making sure to flex his muscle with exaggeration.

It's a nice view, I have to give him that. My expression turns to a scowl. "Hmm, tempting," I affirm. "You're in my personal space." I motion to the area around me and realizing that I sound childish, but I don't care.

"Your long-ass legs are taking up the whole floor." He scowls down at me, but his eyes still hold the hint of mischief while he skims over my bare legs, to the sliver of bare skin at my stomach, until finally reaching my face. I bend my knees and stand up, facing him.

"Since when do you work out anyway?" I inquire. "Other than using your forearm to lift a glass of whiskey."

"For your information, I played Lacrosse in college."

I scoff, turning on the treadmill, determined to drown him out with the sound of the belt running.

"Are you going to enlighten me on what today's attitude's for?" Darren probes, causing me to pull a face.

My attitude stems from when he got me fired, coerced me into marrying him, and then accused me of fucking his father, but that argument was becoming stale.

"It's a long list, Darren," I glower, while continuing to run, wishing I hadn't forgotten my headphones, because then I could tune him out. "But today's attitude is because you volunteered me for Audrina's charity and didn't discuss it with me first."

"It's my mother's charity," he corrects with a darkened expression.

I feel heat flood my face because I know Darren's mother is a sensitive subject, and I've always tried to be respectful about that.

"Besides, I thought you liked charity work, what with the homeless and all."

Usually while running I can tune everything out, train my mind to focus on one single point to push through the ache in my lungs. That one single point right now is Darren's abs. He's such a selfish, annoying man.

Shaking those dangerous thoughts from my head, I snap, "You should have warned me Audrina was going to ambush me at the cafe this morning."

"What makes you think I knew?"

"The cafe is not exactly the kind of place someone like Audrina would hang out," I offer.

"You're been here, what, a month, and you already have everyone pegged?" he challenges.

"Why does that surprise you? Because I'm not a college graduate?"

He crosses his arms and his soft hazel eyes settle on me, and I let out a jagged breath.

"I should have known Audrina would track you down," Darren lets out a frustrated sigh. "She can be resourceful."

"What the fuck is wrong with you people?" I ask angrily, meeting Darren's startled gaze.

"You people?"

"It's been nothing but games since I met you."

I step down from the treadmill to face him.

"You don't get it, Darren."

We stand toe to toe.

"You brought me here. You put me in a situation where I couldn't…" I falter, looking into his eyes that soften with shades of worry. "A situation I wasn't prepared to handle."

Darren steps closer. "If I had known about your history…"

"You mean the one where I'm a prostitute?"

"The one where you knew my father." He looks down at me, his jaw sharp and his brow glistening with sweat. "And Langley," he says through gritted teeth.

I shake my head. "Half my client list was in attendance at that charity event."

"Don't say things like that." His eyes flare with annoyance.

I take a dangerous step forward.

"I've got news for you, Darren Walker." I look up at him through my lashes and I can feel his breath on my lips, our closeness causing my skin to pebble with goosebumps. "I'm not a virgin."

His lips press into a tight line, and I watch his Adam"s apple bob as he swallows hard.

He lifts his hand as if to touch my face, but I don't give him the chance and turn away to grab my bottle of water, nearly emptying the whole thing.

Darren runs a hand through his hair instead. "Jesus Christ, Evan. I punched a U.S. senator for you!" He raises his voice, but it's not an angry voice or even one laced with regret.

The room becomes quiet enough to hear the rain hit against the windowpane.

"You punched a U.S. Senator for me," I say quietly.

Darren reacts to my grateful and soft tone by returning the same. "I don't like being blindsided."

"Then why didn't you tell me about Audrina?" I can't keep the hurt from my tone. "Because I'm not a Walker, not really? Or is it because you didn't want someone like me staining your mother's charity?"

His brows furrow, causing deep lines in his forehead. "Is that how you think I see you?"

"You made that pretty clear the other day."

"I was angry, and I shouldn't have said those things," he offers, which I appreciate.

"What was it about him?" he suddenly asks, and I can tell what it takes for him to be so vulnerable.

"Darren, when I met him, I wasn't in a good place. I was drowning in work and school. Everything felt bleak, and then I listened to your father's lecture. He gave me something that I hadn't had in a long time." I pause, feeling the weight of his stare and my insecurities claw at my insides. "He inspired me, and I held onto that, especially when I really needed something to cut through the darkness."

A look of understanding passes over his face, but he remains silent.

"I'm sure if Audrina knew the truth, she wouldn't want to have anything to do with me," I shrug, acting as if it doesn't bother me, but it sits heavy in my stomach.

"You're probably right, but I don't care what Audrina thinks. You're my wife, and if you wanted to run the whole fucking foundation she has no say in it!"

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"I never got the chance," he stops short, scratching the back of his head, and even though he doesn't finish the sentence, I know it was because of the photos. "She thought I was keeping you all to myself," he admits with a heavy sigh.

"And were you?" I already know the answer, but I like pushing him.

"You know I do," he admits darkly. "You probably won't believe this, but if you knew my mother, I think she would have been happy to see you take over her charity, if that's what you wanted."

"That's hard to believe."

"She would have seen the same thing in you that she saw in my father," he admits. "She would see what I see."

I turn away from Darren, unable to be under the heavy weight of his stare a moment longer.

As angry as I am, I have to admit that hanging around this house, doing nothing for the next year, doesn't sound fun. My shoulders loosen and I contemplate whether I really want to get in deeper with these people.

When I stare out the window, the sky is still full of clouds, and droplets of rain streak down the glass pane obscuring the view. It's not just the rain but how bare the trees are that reminds me the holidays are almost here, and I can feel my chest tighten at the thought.

It's the ache that makes the decision for me.

"I'll call Audrina tomorrow," I say quietly while I throw my towel into the bin by the door.

"You don't have to."

"I know."

Darren digs into the pocket of his sweatpants, a curious expression on his face as he presses the phone to his ear.

"Alistair, this better be important because…" he starts to say and then his eyes widen. "You're where?" he asks with amusement. "Well," he sits down on the bench, barely containing his laughter. "I know it's not funny."

He looks over at me, the green flecks in his eyes twinkling with obvious amusement. It's not often he laughs like this, so uninhibited and genuine.

"Just answer me this," he pauses, "did they have to call in a female officer to pat you down?"