Chapter Eight
Brady
I peered at Nick. Things will work out okay? Since when was Nick a cheerleader? He had worn a self-satisfied grin as he walked down the short hallway back to the table on his return from the bathroom, talking on his phone. When his eyes met mine, he mumbled something and then abruptly disconnected the call.
I lifted an eyebrow. “What’s that all about?”
“Nothin’. Just a stupid ex bugging me.”
He avoided my eyes. I wasn’t sure I believed him. “Which one?”
He shrugged, sliding the phone into the pocket of his T-shirt. “Who the hell remembers?”
I shook my head and took a sip of beer from the nearly full mug in front of me that the bartender had brought while Nick was in the bathroom. “So what have you got planned this afternoon?”
His phone rang. Nick startled and glanced at the phone, still tucked into his pocket, then at me. I frowned at him, and he plucked the phone from his pocket and accepted the call. He turned his face slightly to the side as if he didn’t want me to hear. I barely caught the words.
“… position filled.” He hung up and placed the phone on the table.
Did he have something going on the side that I didn’t know about? That would be the day. “Nick, what are—”
The phone rang again. This time Nick glanced down at the screen and tapped the ignore button. That’s when my Spidey sense went on alert. Something was up, and I had a feeling I knew what it was. Cursing under my breath, I snatched the phone from the table.
“Brady—”
He leaned back in his seat, out of reach as he stared at me with a look of resignation. I felt a niggling of worry. “What the hell did you do?” He said nothing as I accessed his texts and realized that in spite of the fact that I told him not to post an ad on Craigslist, it was obvious that he had. I looked up at him.
“What the hell, Nick? How many calls have you gotten?” I was pissed, even more so when the phone rang in my hand. I clicked the ignore button, just as Nick had a few seconds ago. “Delete the ad, Nick. Now.”
I barely resisted the urge to toss the phone at him. He took it from my hand, swallowed, and after a few moments of tapping, looked up. “Okay, it’s deleted.”
“What the hell? You were only gone five minutes! Shit! Are these calls from the ad?” I didn’t believe him when he said they were not. Putting an ad in the paper promising two-hundred grand was bound to bring everyone out of the woodwork. I shook my head. “Don’t you think I have enough problems? Didn’t you realize that you were going to be inundated with calls? Dammit, Nick, what were you thinking?”
He stared dumbly at me.
Annoyed, I rose from the bench seat. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” I led the way toward the door. The minute we were outside, away from the air-conditioning inside the bar and stepped into the bright, warm sunshine, I sighed.
“Sorry, Brady, I was just trying to help.”
I didn’t say anything as I turned to look at him. He was a good friend, but that was the kind of help I certainly didn’t need.
“Hell, let me make it up to you. Tell you what. Let’s have lunch at the Four Seasons tomorrow. Okay?”
“Where the hell are you going to get that kind of money?” Those were the first words out of my mouth. Then again, Nick sometimes surprised me.
“Gimme a break, bro. I’m not that poor.”
I was going to decline, my mind occupied with too many things. Shit, I didn’t think I would even have time to eat. I had to find a way out of this mess I was in. How the hell was I going to do that? Come clean with my dad? Admit that I didn’t have a girlfriend? Hell no.
“Come on, Brady, let me make it up to you.”
I glanced at him. He looked serious so I shrugged. “Fine. Two o’clock?”
“Can we make it one o’clock? I’ve got something going on later.”
“Whatever.” I guess it didn’t really matter.
*
I sat at a table across from Nick at the Four Seasons Resort on North MacArthur Boulevard. I had no idea why Nick had chosen this place, usually way beyond his pay grade, even when he was earning a paycheck. We sat at opposite ends of a square four seater table covered with a pristine and heavy linen tablecloth, spotless crystal, heavy white porcelain dishware, and silver plated eating utensils. I stared over the single stemmed purple orchid in the clear glass vase with small river stone pebbles in the bottom, my suspicions growing.
Since we’d arrived ten minutes ago, Nick had been anxiously peering around the room. He looked uncomfortable in a pair of khaki slacks and a button-down collared shirt. Highly unusual attire for Nick. Not for me, though, and my dark brown khakis, polo shirt, and loafers sans socks fit perfectly with the crowd, many of whom were golfers taking advantage of the gorgeous eighteen-hole course nearby.
“Who the hell are you looking for?” I finally asked.
“What?” he asked, eyes wide with feigned surprise.
I knew he was up to something. “Nick, spit it out.”
Nick picked up his water glass, took a sip, and then set it down, slowly nodding. Stalling. He looked at me as if he were about to spill, but then his eyes latched onto someone beyond my shoulder and froze. The next thing I knew, he rose from the table.
I turned to look over my shoulder as he approached a young brunette. A very pretty young brunette with a trim yet curvy figure. I was slightly surprised. She didn’t look like Nick’s usual girlfriends. Nor had any of them ever had the means to dine here. Not that I was a snob or anything, but—
I stiffened as Nick gestured for the woman to sit down at our table. Nick led the way, giving me the eye. I knew that look. Shit.
“Brady, this is Dana Sommer.” He nervously cleared his throat. “She’s here for the job interview.”
I stared at Nick in disbelief, then at the woman, who glanced between the two of us. Her hands trembled slightly, and her face looked flushed, the pulse in her neck an obvious indication of her nervousness.
I recovered from my startled dismay and remembered my manners enough to gesture for her to sit down. “Please, have a seat. I’ll be back in just a moment.” She nodded and proceeded to sit down as I gave Nick my look. “May I speak to you for a moment, over there at the bar?”
Nick swallowed hard but immediately headed for the far side of the bar, his shoulders stiff. My temper roiling, I tried to tamp it down, tried to relax the sudden tightness in my jaw, trying to breathe in slow, steady breaths. God, didn’t I have enough trouble as it was? I stood facing Nick, my back to the dining room.
“What the hell did you do?” I hissed.
“This is what you want it, isn’t it?” Nick replied, keeping his voice low as well.
I glanced around to make sure no one could hear us. Despite the urge to shout, I also kept my tone barely above a whisper, though it was filled with an intense sense of frustration and annoyance. “What the hell, Nick?”
“You said it, Brady. You said it had to be a stranger, no attachments. How else are you going to find someone suitable before Saturday?”
My head pounded anew. Oh God, when would this nightmare end?
“Besides, did you notice how hot she was?”
I had. But she also looked a bit young for my taste. “Nick—”
“She looks like a decent sort, Brady. Shit, she looks like the girl next door. Her eyes are clear, she has nice breath, and she smells nice to boot. That’s what you’re looking for, isn’t it? Someone presentable?”
All of a sudden, all the anger and frustration left my body. I just didn’t have the energy. I was exhausted. Maybe Nick was right. I did like how the young woman looked. Maybe with someone like that, Dad would believe that she was my girlfriend. I just couldn’t believe I was having to resort to such subterfuge, such deceit. If my father hadn’t been putting the pressure on, I could have eventually found a woman on my own.
But would I?
“Fine, let’s go talk to her.” I turned around, stared, and then swore, giving Nick one of my best glares.
She was gone.