Rachel pulled her car off to the side of the driveway, parking it haphazardly. Her hands were shaking when she pulled them from the steering wheel. She was sure the two cigarettes she smoked on the drive back weren't helping matters. But most of what she was feeling was the aftermath of her adrenaline surge. Her mind was a swirl of conflicting emotions. She opened her car door. Quickly snapping it shut again, she briefly considered driving back to Jamie's house and demanding an explanation for that woman's appearance at his home. Confronting him directly about what happened might be cathartic even if it didn't end well. But one thought had Rachel yanking the keys away from the ignition before she could even think to fire the engine back up. What if that woman is still there?
The entire drive back, Rachel alternated between calling Jamie every horrible name she could think of and inventing her own excuses for the presence of that offensive stick insect of a woman inside his home. Maybe she was his crazy stalker ex. Maybe he barely knew her. Maybe and maybe and maybe. Rachel saw how familiar that woman was with him. He was obviously sleeping with her. And he'd clearly done it enough times that the woman not only knew where he lived but felt comfortable showing up at his place unannounced. That made Rachel feel dirty. Like maybe he was cheating on his girlfriend. With her.
If Rachel was really honest with herself, it wasn't just the woman showing up at Jamie's house that bothered her. It was the woman herself. Rachel got a good look at her while she was pawing her perfectly manicured nails down Jamie's chest. They were both brunettes. But that's where the similarities ended. The woman was supermodel thin. With tastefully done fake breasts and probably a lot of other fake parts too. She was dressed in heels and expensive designer clothes. Not a jean jacket that she borrowed from her teenage daughter. And her clothes looked like upscale business casual. She's probably a lawyer too, Rachel thought. That woman was the kind of woman that would look with Jamie when he was dressed in one of his custom tailored suits. She was probably just his type. The moment Rachel saw her, she felt like her heart was ripped directly from her chest while it was still beating. There was no way she could even begin to compete with someone like that.
Rachel sighed as she climbed from her rust bucket ford. The car she drove because her dad bought it for her and she couldn't bear to part with it. The stick insect woman parked her new Lexus outside Jamie's house. The kind of car that only sat two people. She didn't need more room because she didn't have a teenage daughter and her friends to fit inside or dozens of cupcakes to haul around and deliver. Rachel stopped on the porch, wiping the smeared mascara from under her eyes as best she could before she headed inside the house. Thankfully, there was no one waiting up for her. It was getting late. But Rachel knew she was way too wound up to even think about sleep. So she tossed her purse and Dakota's jacket in a chair and headed for the kitchen.
"Hey cupcake," Gator teased, smiling at her from behind a massive pile of peeled potatoes. "How's it going?" Rachel forced a smile as she headed for the sink to tie her hair up and wash her hands. She heard Gator's low timbre laugh bubbling up behind her. "That good huh?," he teased as he took in her appearance. Rachel was wearing a low cut dress. There was a fresh hickey on her neck. But her face was all red and splotchy like she'd been crying. And she was here and not sleeping over with whoever left the hickey on her neck. It didn't take a genius to determine that Rachel was having a bad night.
"Want to talk about it?," Gator asked. Rachel pulled down the tray of butter and cream cheese she'd left out to soften before she answered.
"I don't even know where to start. My love life is a disaster," she admitted. Flipping up the top of the large stand mixer, she unwrapped the sticks of butter one at a time, dropping them into the large metallic bowl. Once the butter was whipped, she added vanilla and lots of powdered sugar before she whipped it again. The familiar process was soothing to her. And she was already picturing herself sitting down with a hot cup of tea and one of her freshly frosted treats. She would read herself one of the sappy romance novels that she had downloaded onto her phone as she nibbled her cake. And hopefully that would chase the thoughts of Jamie Dutton from her mind long enough for her to get some sleep.
Gator continued on with his own work, waiting until Rachel was done running the noisy stand mixer before he spoke again. He pulled a tupperware filled with food coloring and piping bags out of the pantry. Since the branding had somehow turned into a some sort of high brow party for John's political colleagues, Gator suggested that red, white, and blue might be the best choice for cupcake frosting colors. Rachel nodded, a genuine smile finally lighting up her pretty face. Gator watched her work, impressed with the technique she used to create swirl the colors together in the white frosting without it somehow turning pastel. Gator was a trained chef. But pastry wasn't his specialty. He was hoping that once the branding party craziness was over, he might be able to steal some kitchen secret swapping time with Rachel. It was a welcome change, having someone else around that liked to cook.
"Gonna tell me about it?," he finally asked. Rachel looked up from her cupcakes with a questioning glance. "The love life disaster," he said, reminding her of her previous statement. Rachel shook her head.
"You don't want to hear about my mess," she said, her hands moving steadily despite the hitch in her voice when she spoke.
"Rachel," Gator said, lowering his own voice so that it was scarcely above a whisper. "I'm a gay cowboy. You don't own the monopoly on dating misery around here. I can promise you that." Rachel's eyes widened. And a giggle bubbled out of her before she could clamp her hand over her mouth to hold the rest of her laughter in.
"I'm so sorry," she gushed. "I didn't mean to laugh at you." By the time she got the last word out, both of them were laughing. Once they both gained control over themselves, Rachel piped another row of cupcakes. Despite his friendly and open invitation to talk, she still felt very hesitant to tell Gator about her personal problems. Rachel guessed some of her reluctance was just out of habit. She'd been keeping secrets and covering up bruises for years. And she supposed she also felt ashamed of what happened earlier that night, even though she had no reason to be. She didn't do anything wrong.
Rachel took a deep breath. And then she opened her mouth and talked. She told Gator about what she was sure was simultaneously the best and worst date of her life. And then she listened while he talked to her about his last failed romantic interlude. They shared a hug and split a cupcake. And Rachel headed up to her room licking the last bits of frosting off her fingers and feeling strangely hopeful now that she'd unburdened a few of her many secrets. She took a hot shower, letting the water work out the kinks that her earlier stress knotted into her back. She pulled on her underwear and the old worn college t-shirt she liked to sleep in. Sitting on the bed, she pulled her phone from her purse as she rubbed at her damp hair with a towel. Rachel held the device in her hand as she tried to decide if she wanted to check it. She was afraid that there would be texts and calls from Jamie. But she was also afraid that there wouldn't be any messages from him. Why would he bother to text me, she thought bitterly, when he already got what he wanted?
Before she could work up the courage to check her notifications, her phone lit up and began to vibrate in her hand. Jamie was calling her right now. Rachel panicked, swiping the little red circle and declining his call. A moment later, a text popped up.
I just want to know if you made it home safe. Please.
Rachel unlocked her phone. Holy shit, she thought. There were half a dozen calls and nearly triple that in texts. She scrolled through them. It looked like mostly I'm sorry and please talk to me type messages. Since Rachel convinced herself that Jamie was asleep with his arms around praying mantis woman, she was legitimately shocked that he'd been texting and calling her the entire time she'd been in the kitchen talking to Gator. And probably during her whole drive home before that too. It was a lot to take in. She hesitated, unsure of what she ought to send as her reply. Or even if she wanted to message Jamie back at all. The intensity of her feelings for him frightened her. A lot. And that was before that other woman showed up. But Jamie seemed genuinely worried about her. Rachel decided it would be cruel not to at least let him know that she made it back safely.
I'm fine. I'm back at the ranch.
Thank fucking god.
Rachel smiled a little at Jamie's message before she could stop herself. If he was that worried, she figured he must care about her a little. But when his texts started coming again in a rapid fire of apologies, Rachel forced herself to switch her phone to the do not disturb setting and place it face down on the bedside table. It was too late at night. And her emotions were still too raw. Jamie knew she was safe. The rest could wait until tomorrow.