Entwined With You

scared.
    Everything in my life ground to a screeching halt. Cary was my anchor. When things weren’t right with us, I scattered real quick. And I knew it was the same for him. When we were out of touch, he started fucking up.
    I dug out my cell phone and called him back.
    “What?” he snapped. But it was a good sign that he’d answered.
    “If I screwed up,” I said quickly, “I’m sorry and I’ll fix it. Okay?”
    He made a rough sound. “You fucking piss me off, Eva.”
    “Yeah, well, I’m good at pissing people off, if you haven’t noticed, but I hate when I do it to you.” I sighed. “It’s going to drive me nuts, Cary, until we can work it out. I need us solid, you know that.”
    “You haven’t acted like it matters lately,” he said gruffly. “I’m an afterthought and that fucking hurts.”
    “I’malways thinking about you. If I haven’t shown it, that’s my bad.”
    He didn’t say anything.
    “I love you, Cary. Even when I’m messing up.”
    He exhaled into the receiver. “Get back to work and don’t stress about this. We’ll deal with it at lunch.”
    “I’m sorry. Really.”
    “See you at noon.”
    I hung up and tried to concentrate, but it was hard. It was one thing having Cary angry with me; it was totally another to know I’d hurt him. I was one of the very few people in his life he trusted not to let him down.
    A T eleven thirty, I received a small pile of interoffice envelopes. I was thrilled when one of them revealed a note from Gideon.
MY GORGEOUS, SEXY WIFE,
I NEVER STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU.
YOURS,
X
    My feet tapped out a little happy dance beneath my desk. My skewed day righted itself a little.
    I wrote him back.
Dark and Dangerous,
I’m madly in love with you.
Your ball and chain,
Mrs. X
    I tucked it in an envelope and dropped it in my out-box.
    I was drafting a reply to the artist working on a gift card campaignwhen my desk phone rang. I answered with my usual greeting and heard a reply in a familiar French accent.
    “Eva, it’s Jean-François Giroux.”
    Sitting back in my chair, I said, “
Bonjour,
Monsieur Giroux.”
    “What time is best for us to meet today?”
    What the hell did he want from me? I supposed if I wanted to know, I’d have to follow through. “Five o’clock? There’s a wine bar not too far from the Crossfire.”
    “That would be fine.”
    I gave him directions and he hung up, leaving me feeling somewhat whiplashed by the call. I swiveled in my chair, thinking. Gideon and I were trying to move forward with our lives, but people and issues from our pasts were still trying to hold us back. Would the announcement of our marriage, or even an engagement, change that?
    God, I hoped so. But was anything ever that easy?
    Glancing at the clock, I refocused on work and returned to writing my e-mail.
    I was down in the lobby by five after noon, but Cary hadn’t arrived yet. As I waited for him, my nerves started getting to me. I’d gone over my brief conversation with Cary again and again and knew he was right. I had convinced myself he’d be okay with having Gideon join our living arrangements because I couldn’t imagine facing the alternative—having to choose between my best friend and my boyfriend.
    And now there was no choice. I was married. Ecstatically so.
    Still, I found myself grateful that I’d tucked my wedding ring into the zippered pocket of my purse. If Cary felt a growing distance between us, finding out I’d gotten hitched over the weekend wouldn’t help.
    My stomach twisted. The secrets between us were mounting. I couldn’t stand it.
    “Eva.”
    I jerked out of my thoughts at the sound of my best friend’s voice. He was striding toward me wearing loose-fitting cargo shorts and a V-neck T-shirt. He kept his shades on, and with his hands shoved in his pockets, he seemed distant and cool. Heads turned as he walked by and he didn’t notice, his attention on me.
    My feet moved. I was hurrying toward him before I thought of it, then ran straight into him so hard, his breath left him with a grunt. I hugged him, my cheek pressed to his chest.
    “I missed you,” I said, meaning it with all my heart, even though he wouldn’t know exactly why.
    He muttered something under his breath and hugged me. “Pain in the ass sometimes, baby girl.”
    Pulling back, I looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”
    He linked his fingers with mine and led me out of the Crossfire. We went to the place with the great tacos that we’d gone to the last