THE QUARTERBACK’S SECRET BABY
Chapter 1
Amanda nearly dropped a tray of dirty dishes when an old man pinched her ass as she walked by. She ground her teeth and shot him a glare, but she kept her mouth shut. She'd complained to the boss on more than one occasion about the behavior of the customers, but Spiro didn't care about anything but the restaurant's sales at the end of the day. If a customer kept coming back week after week and spending money, then he wanted that customer treated like gold.
Not that the assholes who treated her like a piece of meat ever tipped well. She'd be lucky if he left her a dollar on the table after he left. But Spiro only cared about the amount of money he made, not what his staff made.
She dropped the dirty dishes off in the back, then printed out the check for one of her other tables. She took the long way around to drop off the check, so she could avoid walking by the perv's table again. She also noticed the perv's drink needed to be refilled, but as far as she was concerned, he could wait. Maybe if she gave him bad service, he'd stop coming back. Spiro would complain about losing a customer, but Amanda had better things to do with her time than be manhandled by someone who didn't even tip.
She dropped off the check at the other table. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked, keeping her fake smile on her face.
“You can give me your phone number,” the man said, winking at her.
Amanda rolled her eyes. Max was one of her regulars, and while he never got handsy with her the way some of her other customers did, he was relentlessly hitting on her. But he was at least friendly about it, and he never took it the wrong way when she shot him down, so she tried to at least have some fun with it. “My phone's probably getting shut off next week, Max,” she said, giving him a playful smirk. “Tell you what, wait until I win the lottery, then we'll see.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You either make too many calls, or you're not being paid enough here.”
“Little of both,” Amanda said. “Mostly the latter.”
She flashed him a genuine smile as she took his empty plate. Max, at least, was a decent tipper.
She took a quick glance at her other tables. Aside from the perv needing a drink refill, it looked like everyone was doing fine. She'd have just enough time to slip out for a quick smoke.
She kept an eye out for Spiro as she cut back through the dish room and out the back door. The boss didn't much care for his employees smoking on the clock. But Spiro only paid her $2.13 per hour, which was the minimum wage when you earned the rest of your pay from tips, so she didn't really care what he thought. She ducked behind the dumpster, trying to ignore the smell as she pulled out her Parliament Menthols and lit one up. She never smoked at home, because she didn't want to expose her son to secondhand smoke, which meant she had to get her fill while she was at work.
While she was smoking, and dreading the next three hours of her shift, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw it was a text from her friend Michelle. She almost ignored it. Michelle had been a real party girl ever since high school, and had only gotten worse when she moved away for college. Whenever she stopped back in town during a school break, she wanted to go out drinking and cruising for guys. Amanda didn't have the time, between working two jobs and taking care of her son, for that kind of life. As much as she felt like a jerk for ignoring Michelle's texts half the time, she knew she just couldn't deal with being dragged out for a weekend of partying.
She read the text, already composing a response in her head. She needed to make a good excuse in order to get out of going drinking without hurting Michelle's feelings in the process. Though when she read the text, she nearly dropped her phone.
Hey, Mandy! You need to clear your plans for the weekend. I'm coming home, and guess what? I'M GETTING MARRIED!
Amanda was still staring at the text, trying to process it, when her phone buzzed again with another incoming text.
You'll be there, right? Promise you will! I need my bestie there as my maid of honor!
Amanda held her cigarette between her lips and typed out a response. She didn't see how she could get out of going to her friend's wedding, especially if Michelle wanted her to be maid of honor. Her head was spinning as she typed out her response: Holy crap! Since when are you getting married? Why such short notice? Of course I'll be there.
Just before Amanda headed back in to check on her tables, she got another response from Michelle: Long story, I'll explain when I see you. But Blake only has this weekend available, so it has to be now. OMG! I'm so excited! See you soon!
Amanda tucked away her phone and went back to check on her tables. The man who'd pinched her started complaining about how he'd been waiting ten minutes to have his drink refilled. She muttered a completely insincere apology and went to fetch him a new Coke. Then she finished clearing off Max's table, and stopped, stunned, when she saw the tip that he'd left.
It was a $50 bill. She knew Max had decent money—at least, compared to the usual crowd that came into the diner—but he was never this generous. She immediately felt a surge of guilt about her lie about her phone being shut off. Her bills were tight, but not so tight that she couldn't keep up with them, albeit barely. Max must have taken her excuse to get out of giving him her phone number as a genuine plea.
She pocketed the money, trying not to feel guilty about it. Though she immediately felt better when the perv at the next table only left her seventy-eight cents. She'd earned Max's big tip, if only because she had to put up with so much shit from the rest of her customers.
When her shift was finally over, she took the bus home, then stopped by her neighbor's apartment to pick up her son, James. Mrs. Carter was a stay at home mom, and she watched James for free, in exchange for Amanda watching her son a few times a week so Mrs. Carter could run errands or have a night out with her husband.
“Come on, kiddo,” she said, taking James's hand. “Time for dinner.”
“But I don't wanna go,” James said, stomping his foot.
Mrs. Carter shot Amanda an apologetic smile. “He's been in a mood today.”
“I have not!” James protested, stomping his foot again.
“I'm sorry, kiddo,” Amanda said, scooping James up and holding him against her hip. “You can come back and play tomorrow.”
James made a frustrated sound as she carried him down the hall to their apartment. She set him down on the couch and did her best to clean the place up a bit before dinner. The apartment was eternally a mess, and she had long since given up on ever getting it truly clean. She just tried to maintain a certain level of disarray.
“What do you want for dinner?” she asked as she looked through the cabinets.
“Pizza.”
“We don't have pizza,” she said. She considered using Max's $50 to order out, and save herself the hassle of cooking, but she really needed to put it towards paying off her credit card. “How about pasta? That's Italian, too.”
James grumbled, but since he wasn't old enough to cook for himself, Amanda figured he could deal with her making whatever she wanted. She set the water to boil, then went into the living room to sit on the couch next to her son.
He'd turned the TV on, and the Monday night football game was playing. She frowned at the TV. “Hey, isn't there cartoons on?”
“No,” James said, pouting. “I wanna watch them play!”
Amanda sighed and leaned back against the couch. James loved playing and running outdoors, though she rarely got the chance to take him out anymore. She didn't want to deny him the chance to watch the game, even if watching it brought back painful memories for her.
James clutched his Nerf football to his chest as he watched the players running across the field. Amanda watched just one player in particular, the quarterback, Cole Reed. Michelle's brother.
She sighed and leaned forward, propping her chin in her hands. She usually didn't want to admit it, but Cole was another reason why she'd been avoiding Michelle so much over the years. When they'd been in high school, Cole had been in college, and already making a name for himself playing for his college football team. Amanda had crushed on him pretty hard, mooning over him whenever he came back to town during school breaks. She'd been pretty sure he'd barely known that she existed, and she was even more sure now that he'd completely forgotten her entire existence. After all, they had just had one night together. The night she gave him her virginity.
She glanced at James, the memories rushing back once more. She'd been a bit drunk, thanks to Cole and his college friends buying alcohol for Amanda and Michelle's high school graduation party. There had been dozens of kids there, including half of Cole's college football team who'd driven down for the party, and for the chance to score with some eager and willing high school girls. Amanda still didn't know if Cole had put the moves on her because she had been wearing a tight, low-cut dress that night, or because he'd been drunk enough to forget that she was his sister's best friend. And she hadn't cared what his reasons were. When he asked her to go upstairs, she'd been more than willing.
The rest of the night after that was a blur. She remembered that it had felt amazing, after the initial pain, of course. She remembered Cole's stamina, how he'd wanted to go at it again and again. She remembered getting down on her knees for him, when she was too sore to let him inside her again, and how rough and controlling he'd been with his hand on the back of her head, forcing her to swallow.
Most of all, she remembered that he'd been gone in the morning. She'd woken up, naked, sticky, and hung over, in his bed. After she'd gotten dressed and headed downstairs, Michelle had told her that Cole and his friends had driven back to their school. He hadn't even said goodbye.
And Amanda hadn't seen him since. Well, except for when she saw him on TV. And when she looked at James – yes, she saw that resemblance! She'd never told Cole that he was the father, and had never told Michelle that she was an aunt. After how humiliated she'd been that he'd used her as a one-night stand, she had never been able to bring herself to admit the truth. Not to anyone.
She could only hope that Cole wouldn't be at Michelle's wedding this weekend. It was hard for her to imagine him skipping his sister's wedding. But he hadn't been back home in years. After he'd been first draft pick right out of college, he'd been too absorbed in his success and fame to care about the town that he'd left behind. And she was certain that even if he did see her, he wouldn't even remember her name.