CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
That evening you'd think I was escorting a drunken woman back to my SUV in the King's Head carport, but that was the farthest from the truth. Without a single drop of liquor, Louisa was unable to walk upright on her own and nor was she in any condition to do so after battling our way out of the pub's entrance through a rowdy crowd of fans who had gathered around to celebrate Stortford's finest, none other than Running Man himself.
Once we saw our way clear, Louisa stumbled and collapsed into a fit of laughter in my arms, clinging to me and swaying from side to side as I offset her weight with mine to keep her from falling to the ground. A mixture of raucous laughs and beastly half snorts emitted from her little body. "I can stand! I can stand! Really, Will! I can!" she insisted several times before lapsing into uncontrollable laughter again and falling back into my arms. I navigated us as quickly as I could through the parked cars, and arriving at my SUV I momentarily propped Louisa up against its side so that I could reach inside my jacket pocket for my key fob and hurried to open the passenger door, stopping briefly to re-prop her up again.
I pleaded with her for help or rather to help me help her. "Louisa, you've got to help me out a bit. Let's get you in the car, hmm?" I had to admit though that I was quite amused by Louisa's reaction to Running Man and grinned profusely watching her in hysterics. It was clear that there was no unfinished business on Louisa's part although I never suspected there would be, but moreover I took great pleasure and satisfaction seeing her laugh at a man who had put her down every chance he got. I could only imagine what unflattering words Patrick would have for Louisa if he could see her like this. I was sure he would find her beastly rhythmic snorts embarrassing, expressing his great displeasure for her. As for me? Well they were simply adorable. She was adorable.
I offered Louisa my hand to assist her getting into car, but she waved me off still laughing. "Sorry, Will! I can't just yet! A minute, ok?" Her hair hung over her head, and I watched as she blew some strands away revealing her red face. "A minute more, Will?" she cackled, her knees buckling again. "Did Pat really …? Did I see right? Did he really …?!"
"What?! Autograph those 2 ladies' breasts?"
"Yeah!" she cried out silently, nodding her head in the affirmative, her laughter briefly stealing her voice before bellowing out. "Like some 1980s metal hair band!" Then she collapsed again laughing so hard she cried. "Pat! Local celebrity?! I'd have a hard time believing it if I hadn't seen it for myself!" she belted out incredulously before holding her side. "Oh God! Oh God, Will! My side hurts! Really hurts!"
"Then stop laughing!" I sarcastically advised her, finding myself laughing as hard as she was now. Louisa Clark's laughter was contagious but so was laughing at her prick of an ex- boyfriend.
"Oh, I can't!" she confessed as she held her one hand to her chest sucking in air to try to breathe and fanned herself with the other. "I just can't, Will! I can't stop laughing!"
And neither could I.
Patrick was a pathetic, little man – childish and immature – and his staged ruse nothing more than a mere sham, a show de force and blatant attempt to enrage Louisa and to make her jealous. Only it backfired. Severely backfired. Perhaps he underestimated the seriousness of our relationship. Perhaps he underestimated Louisa's feelings for me. How apropos I thought. He had been underestimating Louisa for years. Her beauty. Her intelligence. Her talent. Her desirability by another man. It was insulting that he thought Louisa could be played so easily.
One thing was for sure. Running Man was obnoxious. And his motives obvious. He was smug and arrogant, cocky and pompous, self-centered and egotistical, and most of all insufferable. Plain and simple, he was a real tosser. He orchestrated the whole farce, laying it on real thick for me and Louisa to see and hear. For every over-the-top action he took he glanced over at me and Louisa to make sure we were watching to glean our responses. He wanted to get under our skin, for Louisa to get jealous and for me to doubt our relationship seeing her all bent out of shape over him. Only I wasn't the jealous or angry type. And Louisa … Louisa was over him, probably years long before I met her, their breakup long overdue.
Running Man was shameless. Absolutely shameless. I thought I had come across some of the most narcissistic characters in business and in extreme sports, but Running Man topped the cake. He was a blowhard. Self-important. Self-centered. Pretentious. The list goes on and on. He ran his mouth, coming onto his legions of fan girls who had swarmed him for selfies and pushed their breasts at him just as shamelessly as "his people" filmed the mob. Supposedly with him were his "business representatives," "handlers," and the crew who had filmed a commercial staring … him, of course, or so he said as he introduced his groupies to them. He flirted with these hangers on, putting his arms around them and pulling them in for kisses despite just meeting. He entered his mobile number in their contacts on their phones, making them promise to give him a ring to "hook up", promising them free training sessions. He bragged on and on of his newfound fame and status, intentionally shouting so that Louisa and me couldn't help but overhear. He flaunted a recent purchase of an expensive condo in a new real estate development from a London based-group on the riverbed in an adjacent town, the first thing he said he bought with the earnings he won from his first triathlon win! He talked of building "his brand" and of individual endorsement deals, of team sponsorships for the Hailsbury Triathlon Terrors, of the internet spots team sponsors would be filming of the Terrors training for the upcoming Viking Nordic, and of the possibility of a reality show being pitched for "Entrepreneur of the Year" two times in a row now turned professional athlete and newly single man on the prowl! The worst was seeing Running Man take his own phone and turn it into selfie mode to use as a mirror, checking his teeth and hair, practicing smiles between "fan interactions". Yes, Patrick was apparently a big man now – a big deal –and he wanted Louisa to know what she threw away!
"I can't believe someone's actually … actually paying him to wear … I mean model their tri suits! Spokesperson?! All for winning that stupid triathlon with a bunch of newcomers in the field or so Treena heard!" Louisa howled as she finally climbed into my SUV with my assistance.
"I believe Running Man used the term 'ambassador', Clark!"
"YES! EXACTLY! EXACTLY! AMBASSADOR!" she mocked mercilessly. "And did you hear him? Endorsement deals?! For a protein shake?! Print ads and commercials! How ludacris! If you know Pat, you'd think it would be more fitting that he was an ambassador for a liquid laxative instead of a protein shake! You know he likes his 'cleanses'! Helps him run faster when he's 'lighter' or sohesays!"
Her words alone conjured up more images of Running Man that made me shudder. Lackluster lover. Two-bit athlete. Worst life coach ever. Bully and trainer. Now ... well, I didn't want to go there. "A bit too much information, don't you think Clark?!"
"No, no! I'm serious, Will!" she hooted continuing on despite my cringing. "That's how he got barred from the café! He'd stop in to use the facilities and stop up the toilet and all our noses! Frank told him no more. No more! And he argued with him. It was sooooooooo, soooooooo embarrassing for me! You have no idea! No idea how mortified I was! It was awful, just awful. That's my workplace, you know!"
I did have an idea though, and it broke my heart knowing that Patrick didn't care one way or the other if he embarassed Louisa in public …. or at her workplace … or in front of her family. That was the God's honest truth.
"Where to, Clark?" I asked before turning on the ignition. "Any place you want."
"To Treena!" she responded definitively, giggling and thumping her feet in the passenger seat. "SHE'S GOING TO HAVE SO MUCH FUN WITH THIS!"
Louisa had wanted to return home after seeing Running Man that evening. Correction, she wanted to return to her parents' home to "sleep in her own bed tonight". And I was to join her, the matter already settled in her mind. "Remember? That's what you said, Will! That we would never spend another night apart? Besides, we have some busy days ahead of us, moving into the stables and all, and we need some proper rest. Plus, we have to tell everyone about our new living arrangement, and I know my mum and dad will want to see you! I'm sure they've already found out by now that Dad's getting his job back! So it's agreed, yes?!" It was, and lucky for me I always kept a packed "go bag" in the trunk of my car for times when I had to stay unexpectedly overnight at Lewins or had to leave town on a business emergency.
The car ride to the Clark home was wild to say the least. I had to pull over twice. Once to fish through Louisa's purse to find tissues because she was laughing so hard that her eye makeup had completely run off and stung and burned her eyes at some point. And the second because I had lost it myself every time she started laughing like a hyena. "Are you sure you don't want to get dirty with me?" she kept repeating in between giddy laughter! "Clark, please stop," I begged of her. "Please! Every time you laugh like that I start to laugh. I can't drive like this!" "Sorry. Sorry," she replied until it happened again and again and again.
Treena, of course, didn't hold anything back once she found out about Running Man! "That stupid, stupid twat! He's got his head up his arse!"
"YES!" cried Louisa as she proceeded to fill her sister in on more while a sleepy Thomas climbed up on her lap in his pajamas.
"Wait! Did you just say he's a mentor in Big Brothers Big Sisters? After how he treated my son?!"
"Apparently, Treen. I mean that's what he said. I don't really know, but poor kid if there is a kid. For a life coach, he's not very … very …. he …. ummmmmm … he ...,"
"Sucks, Clark?! Just say it! He sucks as a life coach! Sucks as a boyfriend!"
"Here! Here!" Louisa agreed, shaking her head consecutively up and down while pursuing her lips with wide, expressive eyes. "Sucks as a person, Will! Don't forget that!"
That was without saying. Even Rupert had some redeemable qualities. This bloke, however, I wondered about. I sat on the Clarks' couch next to Louisa with my arm around her shoulders as she cradled her nephew in her arms. I intently watched her fawn over him, rocking him and playing with his hair while he nestled against her chest. Boy. Girl. Jamie. Charley. Willow. Gemma. I didn't much care anymore. All I knew was that I wanted that. Exactly that.
Louisa was right about Treena though – nothing much escaped her with her keen sense of perception and observation. Just like their mum, it was as though she could read my innermost thoughts, at least where Louisa was concerned. I was an open book as ever there was one.
Her eyes glanced from me to Louisa, and she shook her head at us both.
"So you two spent the entire day together?" she accusingly asked already knowing the answer. Both of us bobbed our heads yes, pursing our lips and blushing, looking as guilty as we were. We spent the day making love. We knew it and so did Treena Clark just by the look of us. She was a straight shooter – tough as nails, a force to reckon with – and she spoke her mind irrespective of feelings. She didn't mince words and was … to a fault … a pragmatist, not at all the romantic or dreamily idealist Louisa was! That was a stark difference between the sisters.
"You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?! Sickly cute! Right there in your arms!" she gestured to Louisa at Thomas. "A cautionary tale, you two!"
"Katrina Clark!" Louisa balked, appalled at her sister's suggestion. "Shhhhhh!" she murmured, clutching Thomas more tightly who had by now fallen fast asleep. "That's between me and Will not you, yeah?!"
Katrina crossed her arms and looked suspiciously at us until Louisa set the record straight.
"No, I already told you NO! AND, if and when there's something to tell, I'll tell you, but there's NOT. Now do you want to hear the rest about Pat or not? The best part?"
"Well then hurry up," Treena snapped back, sitting all the way back in the side chair and crossing her legs defiantly. "You take forever to tell a story!"
Louisa huffed in defeat at her sister's comment but rebounded quickly. Looking delirious, her eyes danced with glee, and she began to giggle again. I knew what was coming, and I was about to lose it again. "Soooooooooooooooo," she sang out beginning her story. "So Pat is talking to these two girls, and the one is this tall mousy thing who was hopelessly flirting with him …. which was like … really, really like ick … just remembering it … just ick … but you see Pat was only interested in her friend who looked like she was dragged there by the other. She was this … um … short, petite brunette. Long hair in a braid … a crown braid …. and ….,"
"So you just described yourself I see?!" Treena quipped sarcastically, drawing similarities between the girl and Louisa.
"Jeez, Treen! No! She didn't look anything like me! Not at all," Louisa shot back. "Except the height and hair color, … um … maybe the braid, but ANYWAY, anyway …. as I was saying she didn't look like she wanted to be there unlike her friend, and Pat gets all cocky and stuff and brags to this girl that he and 'his boys' are competing in a Tough Mudder … you know those obstacle courses with mud … to build 'team rapport' and 'gear up" for that stupid Viking Nordic next summer. And then proceeds … proceeds to come onto her and invites her to join them, looking straight at me as Will and I are passing him … and trust me, we wanted to get out of there FAST! And she turns him down FLAT! 'Thanks, but that's not my type of thing!' And then he asks ….. wait for it … he asks, 'Are you sure you don't want to get dirty with me?' And the girl's like YEAH, POSITIVE!"
"Ewwwwwwwww!" groaned Treena in disgust before naming Running Man for what he was. "What a sleaze!"
"It was soooooo gross, Treen!" Louisa grimaced, reiterating her sister's sentiments. "So, so gross!"
"Jesus, Lou! Pat's out of control! He has … no shame! None at all! You know he was trying to make you jealous, right?"
"I know," Louisa yelped, shaking her head and wincing like she had just swallowed cough syrup. "Don't remind me! He's just so ….. gross! There's no other word. You know he was even boasting that he's listed as a 'public figure' on Facebook and that his accounts are 'verified' on Instagram!"
"Who knows, Clark?" I reminded her, adding that we didn't know how much was truth and how much was bluster for our benefit.
"Let's see, shall we?" Treena suggested with a cheshire smile as she held up her iPhone. "Who's up for a little Internet stalking?"
I was game.
