Addy
Monday, June 29
Cooper’s Jeep gives a wheezy rattle as he pulls into a metered parking spot in front of a San Diego office building, and he sighs as he shifts into Park. “Hate to admit it, but I think this thing might be on its last legs,” he says.
“Hadn’t noticed,” I deadpan. On the drive from Bayview, we’d practically had to shout at one another over whatever noise his engine was making.
“Sorry. It wasn’t this bad yesterday, I swear. I would’ve borrowed Kris’s car,” Cooper says. Then he puts an arm in front of me as I reach for my door handle. “Hang on. Let me check things out first.” He gets out of the Jeep and walks around it, scanning the street and nearby buildings before opening my door. “The coast is clear,” he says.
“You’re ridiculous,” I say, smiling despite my horrible mood. Cooper is decked out in full incognito mode—sunglasses, a baseball cap pulled low enough to cover his sandy hair and half his face, and the Oktoberfest T-shirt Kris bought the last time he visited family in Germany—but he still doesn’t look anything like the tourist he occasionally pretends to be. Those professional-grade workouts give him away every time.
It’s not baseball fans Cooper’s worried about, though.
“We’re early,” he notes, glancing at his phone. “You wanna get some coffee first?”
“No,” I say, scanning the windows of the coffee shop on the first floor of Eli’s office building. A half-dozen people are scattered across the bench seating, most of them staring at their laptops or their phones. Nothing out of the ordinary, but Eli’s office is well-known enough that I wouldn’t put it past a reporter to be camped out in their midst. A few of the old standbys hung out around my house for a couple of days after the news about Jake broke, but I’ve become professional-level skilled at avoiding them. “Let’s just go up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Cooper says, linking his arm through mine.
I lean into him, relieved at his presence even though initially I’d resisted it. I’m sticking to my normal routine, I told everybody when the news dropped last week: that not only was Jake getting a new trial, but he’d been granted bail. The days of Jake controlling what I do are over. And I meant it, but it’s still nice to have Cooper by my side. Especially since my normal routine now consists of picking up restraining order paperwork from Eli.
“I’ll bring it to you tonight,” Eli said when he called earlier.
“No, I’ll come get it. I have errands to run anyway,” I’d said. Normal routine.
“I’m glad you don’t have a game today,” I tell Cooper as we make our way to the elevators. He’s playing for an elite summer baseball league, and the schedule is intense even though he doesn’t pitch as often as he did during the Cal Fullerton season.
“You and me both,” Cooper says, rolling his shoulders. “I overdid it on pull-ups yesterday. Nonny lectured me for half the night.” We pass a woman who gives him a long, appraising look—like she’s sure she knows him but can’t quite figure out how—while ignoring me. The only time I ever feel invisible is when I’m with Cooper, and it’s kind of nice.
“Nonny did?” I ask, pressing the Up button. “But she’s your number one fan!”
“Yeah, but you know how she’s been since she got out of the hospital. Kinda obsessed with joint health,” Cooper says. Nonny had knee-replacement surgery a couple of weeks ago, and even though she’s recuperating well, I know Cooper worries about her. Other than Kris, there’s no one on earth he’s closer to.
The elevator door chimes, and when the doors open, we step inside. “Do you think she’ll be able to come to your viewing party at Café Contigo?” I ask.
“Doubtful,” Cooper says. “Probably a good thing, though, since I’m pretty sure I was terrible in that commercial. Can’t believe I let you talk me into a party.” His nose wrinkles as the elevator comes to a stop and its doors open to a familiar, pungent smell. “I take it the hair-replacement clinic hasn’t moved?”
“Nope,” I say, stepping into the hallway.
“Addy!” The door to Until Proven flies open, and Bethany Okonjo, one of Eli’s paralegals, comes out to engulf me in a crushing hug. “It’s so good to see you!”
“You too,” I say, managing to move one hand enough to pat her back. “Thank you for the, um…hug.” I was going to say, extremely normal greeting, but why be sarcastic toward people who are trying to show you how much they care? That’s one of the many, many life lessons I’ve learned over the past couple of years.
“Eli is wrapping up a meeting, but we’ve got a conference room all set up for you,” Bethany says, releasing me and gesturing through the still-open door. “Winterfell.” She catches Cooper’s confused look as he finally takes off his sunglasses and adds, “Or for those of you not familiar with our Game of Thrones naming system, the small one. Go right in. We picked up a few snacks in case you’re hungry.”
A few snacks is putting it mildly; it looks like somebody emptied the entire contents of the downstairs coffee shop’s bakery case onto the table. That somebody was probably Knox, who waves to us from the larger, glass-walled conference room where a half-dozen people are listening intently to whatever Eli is saying. Now that school is done for the year, Knox is working practically full-time at Until Proven. He was promoted from intern to office assistant last month, so he’s finally getting paid with more than free pizza and work experience.
“I have to get back in there, but wave if you need anything,” Bethany says before closing the door behind her.
Cooper stalks around the table like a man on a mission. Despite his nonstop training and clean-eating regimen, he’s a sucker for carbs. “Yesss, chocolate croissants,” he says happily, grabbing two of them. But instead of taking a bite, he folds them into a napkin and places it off to one side. “Kris loves these,” he adds.
“Aw, look at you, saving your favorites for him.” I sit down and reach for a fruit tart, plucking a glazed strawberry from the top and popping it into my mouth. “The perfect couple remains perfect.”
“There’s no such thing,” Cooper says.
The too-sweet strawberry nearly gets stuck in my throat, and I swallow hard. He’s right, of course, because that’s what people used to call me and Jake: the perfect couple. Seemingly shiny, happy, and ultrapopular, even though both of us were actually second-best at the things we thought we cared most about; Jake was an afterthought behind Cooper when it came to Bayview sports, and I was a perennial beauty pageant runner-up. It turned out, though, that pageants weren’t really my thing, and as for Jake, well…
“He fooled all of us, you know,” Cooper says quietly.
“Not to quite the same extent,” I say with a strangled laugh.
“That’s not true,” Cooper says. “I mean, yeah, I get it was different with you two, but I knew him even longer than you did, Addy. We started hanging out at the end of summer before freshman year, and I never—not one single time—thought he was capable of hurting anyone. Luis had no clue either, and Keely—”
“Could we not mention Keely right now?” I ask.
Cooper blinks. “I thought…I thought what happened was a good thing,” he says.
“It was,” I say, picking at the crumbling edge of my tart. “Or it would be, probably, if I weren’t totally broken.”
Earlier this month, when my friend Keely Soria came home after finishing her first year at UCLA, we spent most of a Friday night driving around San Diego looking for a party that one of Keely’s friends was having. We couldn’t find it, so she kept trying slight variations on the address, and it got increasingly hilarious as she drove us from one clearly wrong location to the next. When we finally parked in front of a retirement home, we started laughing so hard that tears leaked out of my eyes. Keely tried to wipe them away and almost stabbed me in the cheek with one of her gel tips, which made me laugh even harder. And then all of a sudden—we were kissing. It was something I hadn’t realized I wanted until it was happening, and then it was…
Well, not perfect. Like Cooper says, there’s no such thing. But it was pretty great.
“You’re not broken,” Cooper says firmly. “You’re cautious, and Keely gets that. She gets that better than almost anyone, I’d say.” Cooper and Keely are close now, but they have a past; they’d dated in high school before Cooper was open about his sexuality, and Keely was hurt when she found out. “She’s not pushing you, right?”
“Of course not,” I mutter. “This is Keely we’re talking about. Anyway, she’s already gone, remember?” Keely’s family always spends the summer on Cape Cod, and she left last week. I hated that I felt a little bit relieved—just like I was relieved when Daniel, the guy I’d been dating a month before that, gracefully accepted my We’d be better as friends suggestion. Even though that wasn’t what I really wanted.
My love life has followed a familiar, depressing pattern since Jake was arrested: I get excited about somebody new; we have a fantastic, giddy couple of weeks; and then my lizard brain kicks in. Some kind of deep-seated, fight-or-flight fear response that makes me push people away. I don’t mind being single—I’ve come to love it, in a lot of ways—but I want it to be by choice. Not because I’m too afraid for anything else.
Cooper was the first person I told about Keely, since they have a history and I wanted to make sure it wouldn’t be weird for him. I think he was touched that I went to him with something of a coming-out moment, even though I’m not entirely sure what it means. I know that I still like guys, and I don’t think I’ve ever been attracted to a girl before Keely, although it’s possible I was and didn’t know what to call it. When I told Cooper that, he reminded me that labels don’t matter. “Just like who you like,” he said.
Now Cooper brings me back to the present with a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Give yourself time, Addy. It hasn’t even been two years since everything imploded with Jake.”
“And yet, he’s gotten out of jail before I’ve even had a third date,” I say, stuffing the rest of the fruit tart into my mouth as Eli finally exits the large conference room and heads our way. He’s juggling a big stack of folders, so Cooper lunges for the door and pulls it open.
“Thanks, Cooper. Hi, Addy. Sorry about the wait. Glad you’re enjoying the food,” Eli says, eyes lingering on my chipmunk cheeks. That was more pastry in one go than I realized.
I chew harder and wave, relaxing at the sight of him. Even though chaos frequently surrounds Eli on account of his job, he’s one of the most competent, and therefore calming, people I’ve ever met. “I can make this quick, because it’s all good news. Well, as good as it can be, under the circumstances,” he adds, dumping his folders onto the table and rooting through the top one. “We got everything we asked for. Jake can’t come within two hundred feet of your home, my and Ashton’s home, or Café Contigo. He can’t contact you, he can’t—”
“How is this even happening, though?” Cooper bursts out in a rare show of anger. He paces toward the window and looks outside, hands on his hips. “There were three eyewitnesses to what Jake did to Addy, including Addy. She was in the hospital! Not to mention all the other crap he pulled. Simon would still be here, probably, if Jake hadn’t helped him, and maybe things would’ve changed for him. Why doesn’t any of that matter all of a sudden?”
“It does,” Eli sighs, running a hand through his hair. It’s gotten a little longer—or taller, really—since the wedding, though it still hasn’t reached the mad-scientist heights he was sporting when I first met him. “But trial by impartial jury is a fundamental right of our judicial system. Mix that with overcrowding, and Jake’s age, and his community service, and, well…we are where we are.”
Cooper stares out the window, jaw twitching, as Eli takes a seat beside me and grabs both of my hands in his. “Addy, I know this is awful. Nobody believes in the importance of a fair trial more than I do, and I still hate what’s happening. But the court understands your concerns, which is why this protective order is extremely thorough. Also, Jake’s whereabouts will be carefully monitored, and the new trial will be expedited.”
“Am I going to have to testify again?” I ask, my throat drying at the thought. Back then it felt good to confront Jake and be able to calmly state all the ways in which he’d harmed me. But it’s not the kind of thing I feel the need to do more than once.
“Possibly not. We can talk about that later, though,” Eli says, releasing my hands. He extracts a stapled packet from his folder and puts it on the table between us. “In the meantime, here’s your copy. We can go over everything in full detail, but the most important thing for you to know is that it would be massively, incredibly foolish for Jake to so much as breathe in your direction. Even the slightest violation of this order would send him straight back to jail, and be added to the pile of evidence that convicted him in the first place.”
“He didn’t worry about leaving evidence the first time around,” I say, slumping in my chair. “I wish I was going to Peru now instead of the end of July.” Originally I thought I’d be there most of the summer, but then the school I applied to, Colegio San Silvestre, decided to divide its program into two sessions. In order for Maeve and me to be guaranteed spots together, we could sign up for only the second one.
“Don’t worry, Addy,” Cooper says, folding his arms. “Your friends won’t let you be alone for a single minute between now and when you step on that plane. And when we’re not shadowing your every move, we’ll be keeping an eye on Jake.”
“You absolutely will not,” Eli says, but I can’t help smiling a little at Cooper in bodyguard mode.
“Anything suspicious-looking outside?” I tease.
Cooper’s eyes stray back out the window. “There’s a beat-up car that’s been idling across the street since we got here. Red convertible with a tan top.” He leans closer to the glass, squinting. “I’m pretty sure Jake wouldn’t be caught dead in a piece of junk like that, but I’d need to get closer to be sure.”
“Cooper. Listen. I cannot stress this enough,” Eli says, a note of agitation creeping into his voice. “Do nothing. About anything. That goes for both of you. All of you. The entire Bayview Bunch, or whatever you’re calling yourselves these days—”
“It’s Crew,” I break in.
“Whatever,” Eli says with a wave of his hand. “I’ve told Knox the same thing, and I’ll fire his ass if he doesn’t listen.”
“No, you won’t,” I scoff, feeling a rush of affection as I catch sight of Knox carefully assembling packets at his desk. I barely knew him three months ago, but having someone save an entire wedding party is an intense bonding experience. Now he’s like the younger brother I never realized I wanted. He’s also very patient about the fact that occasionally, when I think about what could have happened to my sister and nearly every other person that I care about, I feel the need to wrap my arms around his neck and hang on tight for a few minutes.
“I would seriously consider it,” Eli says. Unconvincingly. “And as for you—” He frowns as I pick up the restraining order and an envelope drops from between the pages, landing facedown on the table. “Wait a sec. That shouldn’t be there.”
We both stare at the envelope for a few beats. Eli looks worried, and I flash back to the death threats he got a couple of months ago from Jared Jackson, the boy whose brother Eli helped put in jail. Those letters escalated over time, right until Jared decided to blow up Eli and Ashton’s rehearsal dinner. “Is that…” I grab for the envelope before Eli can and turn it over with shaking hands. Then I blink a few times as Eli fidgets in his chair. “Baby Kleinfelter Prentiss?” I read. “Are these…ultrasound pictures?”
“No,” Eli says. “It’s the baby’s sex, from our last OB visit. We don’t want to know, but the nurse gave us the results anyway. Ashton asked me to throw the envelope out without opening it, but doing that felt like bad luck, somehow, so I’ve been…hanging on to it. I don’t understand how it got mixed up with my files.” Eli gets a little red as I start to smile, Jake temporarily forgotten. “I didn’t open it or anything. I wasn’t even tempted.” He goes redder still. “Much.”
“We don’t want to know?” Cooper asks with a grin. “Or is that just Ashton?”
“Both of us,” Eli says. “But I’m slightly more curious than she is.”
“How about I keep it?” I say, tucking it into my bag.
“You’re gonna look as soon as we get into the car, aren’t you?” Cooper asks, finally detaching himself from the window.
“Maybe, maybe not,” I say, my spirits lifting a few notches. It’s a welcome change, after the week I’ve had, to be in charge of a mystery where there’s no bad answer.
