CHAPTER TWO
“Thanks again for my special snack, Miss Kinkaid. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Alfie Hollis stood in the doorway of my classroom, waving at me with a bright smile.
Unlike a lot of schools, The Day School hadn’t yet imposed a ban on parents bringing treats to school on their children’s birthdays and other special occasions. The parents were asked to keep their selections allergy friendly, but they seemed to consider this as a suggestion, not a requirement. I’d anticipated the problem and stocked the bottom drawer of my desk with dried fruit and vegan, nut free cookies so Alfie would never be left out.
“You’re welcome, Alfie. Have a good night.”
“You too, Miss Kinkaid.”
He darted into the hallway and I shut down my laptop. I’d had a long, exhausting day complete with an injury report after one student whacked another upside the head with a wooden train. The principal and I were scheduled to meet with both sets of parents the following afternoon and I’d given my entire class a long talk about the importance of sharing. When the dismissal bell finally rang, all I wanted to do was go home, change into my pajamas, and have a lazy night with Ben. I locked up my classroom and found him in the school gymnasium shooting free throws.
“Nice shot,” I called out as the ball swooshed through the net. He turned to me with a charming smile.
“Thanks, babe. How was your day?” He dribbled the ball toward me and then tucked it under his arm as he leaned down to kiss the top of my head.
“My day was terrible.” I leaned all my weight against him. “Are you ready to go? I thought we’d lay around my place and maybe order dinner in.”
“I wish I could, baby. I have practice at the club tonight. And after, I’m meeting with the volunteer moms about the cheer program they want to start, remember?”
“That’s right,” I sighed. “I forgot all about that. Do you want to come to my place later?”
“I need to stay home tonight. The landlord is stopping by in the morning to look at the garbage disposal. I’m sorry, baby. I can tell you’ve had a rough day. Do you want me to cancel practice?”
I shook my head. “No. I wish you could hang out with me, but I don’t want the kids to be disappointed.”
“You could go to my place. I’m not sure what time I’ll be home. But we could have a little time together.”
“That’s okay. I really feel like being home right now. Tomorrow night?”
“It’s a date,” he agreed. “Go home, take a hot bath, and pamper yourself. I’ll call you when I leave the club.”
I leaned in for a quick hug and then turned toward the door. “Have a good practice,” I called over my shoulder.
“Thanks, baby. I’ll talk to you soon.”
The sound of his basketball bouncing off of the court echoed down the hallway as I made my way out of the building. I slid behind the wheel of my blue Prius, a graduation present from Uncle Walt, and drove out of the King neighborhood and into a much older, more white collar Irvington area.
When my parents passed away, I was left with just shy of a quarter of a million dollars in life insurance money. Half of it was safely in the bank, earning interest. I’d spent the other half on a small condo about twenty minutes away from the school. If I’d gotten my way, I’d have bought something closer to work. But Walt insisted that I live in a safer area. He didn’t believe the King neighborhood was as revitalized as the locals claimed.
I pulled into my parking space and quickly retreated to my unit before any of my neighbors spotted me. After the day I’d had, I was in no mood to make forced, friendly small talk.
I changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, pulled my hair on top of my head, and settled in on my soft white sofa to binge on reality television. After three hours of watching spoiled socialites choose their wedding gowns, I realized I’d forgotten all about dinner. And the meal I was craving came from a diner that didn’t deliver.
I’ll call it in but eat at the counter so I don’t have to deal with the take-out trash.
I padded across the beige carpet in my socked feet and retrieved my phone from my purse. I called in my order and was told it would be ready in fifteen minutes.
That doesn’t give me time to change. I’ll probably run into half of my parents if I leave the house looking like this. Screw it. My job is to teach their children, not wow them with my fashion sense.
The Day School was technically a public school, so families weren’t charged tuition. But the school’s innovative teaching programs drew both the lower income families in King as well as the more affluent families in my neighborhood. Some days, I felt like I couldn’t turn around without tripping over someone from the school. But I was starving and didn’t have time to worry what they’d think of my sweats and oversized t-shirt. I stuffed my feet into laceless sneakers, grabbed my purse, and set off for the diner.
I arrived ten minutes later and found the parking lot nearly empty. A bell chimed when I pushed open the heavy glass door and the smells of bacon, coffee, and pie hit my nose. A short, curvy woman with curly grey hair greeted me as I sat down at the counter.
“What can I get for you, darlin’?”
“I called in an order for Emily,” I explained.
She looked at a little notepad. “Chicken fry with mashed potatoes and salad?”
“That’s the one.”
She turned to the order window, where a small bowl of ranch covered lettuce and tomatoes waited atop a bucket of ice. She delivered it to me with a set of silverware rolled in a paper napkin.
“Your steak will be up shortly. What can I get you to drink?”
“I’ll have a Coke, easy on the ice,” I replied, mixing the salad with my fork.
She filled a tall plastic cup and slid it across the counter. I took a long drink and shoveled lettuce into my mouth with a saltine. The bell chimed again and a few moments later, the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen sat down two stools away from me. I felt my face flush hot and kept my eyes fixed on my bowl.
“Back so soon, Ethan?” the waitress asked, passing him a menu.
“What can I say, Gladys. I dream about your apple pie.” His voice was warm and deep, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.
“Water with lemon?” she asked, already filling his glass.
“Yes, ma’am. And I’ll have my usual.”
“You got it,” she replied. She jotted a few words on a ticket, tore it off her pad, and hung it in the window. “Order up, Earl,” she called into the kitchen. She turned back to my new dinner companion with an almost star-struck grin.
I don’t blame you, Gladys. This guy looks like a statue of a Greek god brought to life.
“So how was practice?” she asked. “Think you’ll be ready next month?”
“I think so,” he told her. Before he could say more, the bell chimed again and a group of a dozen teenagers filled the diner. They spread out in four of the six booths and a few clustered around the jukebox. My meal appeared in the window and Gladys delivered it before setting off to greet her new customers. I stared down at my giant, gravy soaked plate and felt myself blush again.
Fantastic. I’m sitting three feet away from Adonis, about to pig out in four-year-old sweatpants. I’ll eat fast and get out of here before I have to make eye contact with him.
“That’s quite a steak you’ve got there,” he commented, shattering my hope to get through my meal unnoticed.
“I’m hungry,” I explained awkwardly.
Hungry and lame.
“It’s nice to see a woman with an appetite,” he replied, but I couldn’t tell if he was teasing, serious, or simply grossed out.
I finally looked up at him and my heart instantly raced.
Like me, Ethan was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of sweats. He had dark hair, hypnotic hazel eyes, and I could tell by the fit of his shirt that his body was as chiseled as his chin and cheekbones.
“I’m Ethan McAlister,” he said with a cocky, expectant grin.
Well, isn’t he impressed by himself? Though I guess I’d be a little cocky too, if I looked like that.
“Nice to meet you, Ethan. I’m Emily Kinkaid.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.” The expectation on his face turned to amusement and he spun on his stool to face me. “So tell me, Emily Kinkaid, how is it that a beautiful woman such as yourself is dining alone tonight?” His voice dripped with charm.
“My boyfriend coaches a pee-wee football team at the Boys Club, and they have practice tonight.”
“And you didn’t tag along? Not a sports fan, I take it?”
“I’m a huge sports fan. I just don’t like football.”
He gave me an understanding nod and took a long drink of his water. “Let me guess, you think it’s too violent.”
I swallowed a bite of my potatoes and chased it with a sip of my soda.
“I think it’s too dangerous,” I corrected him. “For kids, at least. I don’t mind watching it on television, but when it’s one of your children on the field, it’s a completely different story.”
His eyes widened with surprise. “You have kids?”
“No,” I replied with a laugh. “I’m sorry. I teach kindergarten. I have a bad habit of referring to every kid in the school as mine.”
The shock changed to relief and Gladys reappeared behind the counter. A platter of pancakes, sausage, and eggs appeared in the order window and she set it in front of Ethan before returning to the booths with a pot of coffee.
“Kindergarten, huh? You must have a lot of energy,” he commented, covering his pancakes with syrup.
“It ran out long before the final bell today, which is why I look like I’ve been hit by a truck,” I explained with a light-hearted laugh.
“If you’re this beautiful when you’re exhausted, I’d love to see you on a good day,” he countered. I still couldn’t tell if he was teasing or being serious, but I was surprised by how at ease I felt around the handsome, charming stranger.
He’s like Linda. I bet he’s never met a stranger. And I’m sure he flirts like this with every woman he comes across. But what the hell? It’s harmless. I may as well enjoy it.
“I’m serious,” he continued. “I’m new to the area. I’d be incredibly grateful if you’d show me around sometime.”
I shifted on my stool, suddenly nervous. “I have a boyfriend,” I told him again.
“Which is why I’m asking for a tour, not a date,” he replied, completely undeterred. “Come on, you’d be doing me a huge favor.” He gave me the most adorable, pitiful puppy dog eyes and I had to turn away. I knew if I stared at him much longer, I’d agree to anything he wanted.
“I really can’t,” I insisted. “Even if it’s innocent, it’s a line I’m not willing to cross.”
“So you’re beautiful and loyal. Your boyfriend is a lucky man.”
“Thanks.”
I stared down at my half eaten meal and knew I couldn’t take another bite. I leaned over the counter and fetched my own to-go box.
“In a hurry?” he asked.
I lifted a shoulder. “Sort of.” I filled the box and pulled a twenty from my wallet.
“Gladys looks like she’s going to have her hands full for a while. Will you make sure she gets this?” I asked, setting the bill on the counter.
“Sure,” he agreed. “If you’ll give me your phone number.”
I blushed and shook my head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
“I understand. But I can’t stand the thought that I may never see you again.”
I knew he was just flirting, but my pulse quickened and my heart felt like it might explode from my chest with excitement. I slung my purse over my shoulder and met his eyes with a smile.
“I guess if we’re supposed to meet again, we will,” I teased.
His eyes smoldered and he dropped his voice an octave. “I eat dinner here every Wednesday around this time. If you decide we’re meant to run into each other again, you know where to find me.”
He’s serious. He’s actually interested in me.
My smile softened and I dropped my tone to match the seriousness of his. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I promised.
“Till next time, then,” he offered with a grin.
“Till next time.”
I walked out of the diner, filled with emotions I didn’t understand. I loved Ben, and I wanted to build a life with him. But when Ethan asked for my number, I regretted not being able to give it to him. I took the long way home, trying to sort out my feelings.
I’m exhausted and my head isn’t on straight. Ben and I haven’t had much time together since school started. That’s why I got so caught up in Ethan’s flirting. I didn’t cross any lines. But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, I don’t need to see Ethan McAlister ever again.
***
On the second Friday of the school year, I reached a milestone in my class. Not one single child cried about missing their parents. I rewarded myself with a hot bath, followed by a night in bed with a bottle of wine and a week’s worth of television. I turned my alarm off before I drifted off, determined to sleep in Saturday morning. My friend Melissa had other ideas. She called bright and early at seven a.m.
“This better be good,” I mumbled into the phone.
“Good morning, sunshine. I’m sorry to wake you. I thought you’d be up by now.”
I pushed myself up against the headboard and reached for the bottle of water on my nightstand. My mouth tasted like sour wine and a dull throb filled the back of my head.
“Monday through Friday, I would be. On the weekends, I sleep,” I reminded her.
“Right, I’ll try to remember that next time.”
“It’s okay,” I replied through a yawn. “What’s going on?”
“I’m about to go watch the Stallions practice. I’m interviewing some of the players after, and I have an extra press badge.”
The Stallions were Portland’s new professional football team. The city had been petitioning the powers that be for years, and eighteen months ago, they finally gave their formal approval. The Stallions were owned by Victor Montez, Oregon’s wealthiest citizen. Montez had spent his career building an empire of casinos. He’d moved to Portland after selling out to Montgomery Enterprises, an even larger chain of destination resorts. Rumor had it that he’s a hot head and incredibly difficult to work with. Sportscasters insisted he was exactly who you’d want in charge of a startup team.
“You’re going to the stadium?”
“Yes. Phillip was supposed to go, but his kid has the chickenpox. He’s never had it before, and the last thing he wants to do is walk into practice like Typhoid Mary. Bill threw it to me, said it was my chance to prove I could hold my own with the sports desk. I know it’s short notice, but I have an extra press pass and I thought Ben might like to tag along and fanboy out while I get my interviews.”
“Aw, man, he would have loved that. But he’s working at the club today.”
“Even better. You can come with me and we can gawk at the hot football players,” she suggested and I could almost hear her waggling her eyebrows.
“I don’t know. It sounds like fun. But I had such a long week. I was really looking forward to doing nothing today.”
“I promise you won’t have to do anything physically or mentally exerting,” she pleased. “It’s going to be a beautiful day. You don’t have to do anything but sit in the stands and soak up the sunshine.”
“Okay,” I finally agreed.
“Great. We’re supposed to be there at noon, so I’ll pick you up at eleven.”
“I’ll see you then. Thanks for inviting me, Mel.”
“No problem. I’ll see you soon.”
I ended the call and let the phone fall to my bed. I shuffled to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and then dove back between my sheets. I chased two Advil with the rest of my water and told myself I was just going to close my eyes until the throbbing stopped. I woke up three and a half hours later.
Shit, shit, shit. Melissa will be here in thirty minutes and I’m still in my pajamas.
I threw open my closet door and grabbed my go-to boyfriend jeans and a blue and grey raglan t-shirt. I stuffed my feet into black Converse and trudged back to the bathroom to check my reflection. The extra hours of sleep hadn’t done anything to improve my bloodshot hangover eyes and my long hair hung limply around my tan face.
Screw it. I’ll just throw on a hat and a pair of sunglasses. It’s not like I’ll run into anyone I know. But I’ve got to stop making a habit of leaving the house like this.
I swiped a light layer of powder over my face and tied my hair into a ponytail at the nape of my neck. From there, I moved on to the kitchen, brewed myself a cup of coffee, and rifled through my fridge for something that would pass for breakfast. I settled on a yogurt, which I ate over my sink. My doorbell rang just as I set my second cup of coffee to brew.
I opened the door and Melissa greeted me with a broad smile and a bag from the Eight Street Bakery.
“Cinnamon chip scone,” she explained, thrusting the bag into my hand. “I thought you might need a pick me up. You sounded exhausted when I talked to you this morning. Please tell me you were able to get back to sleep. I felt like an ass for waking you.”
I tossed the bag next to my purse on the coffee table and turned back toward the kitchen.
“I just woke up about half an hour ago,” I explained. “Let me pour my coffee into a travel cup and I’ll be ready.”
“We have a little time, if you want to finish your makeup.”
I didn’t even get insulted at the hint. “I’m just going to throw on a hat and sunglasses. There’s no point in doing my face when everyone’s eyes will be stuck to you,” I insisted. “You really do look fabulous.”
Melissa held a hand to her flawless chocolate complexion and smiled back at me. “Do you really think so? I finally had a reason to use my ‘on camera’ makeup my Mom gave me when I landed the job at the station. I was a little worried I’d gone overboard.”
“I think you look perfect. After today, the viewers will be insisting that you cover the sports desk. You know as much, if not more, than the men and you look three times as good doing the commentary.”
The motivation behind my comment was easing Melissa’s obvious nerves, but that didn’t make the words any less true. Melissa grew up in Portland as the only girl in a family of eight kids. She was also the baby and spent her childhood cheering her seven older brothers on from the sidelines of their various athletic events. Melissa paid attention and by the time she was twelve, she was offering her brothers’ coaches pointers during practices.
And Melissa wasn’t just smart. She was also drop dead gorgeous. Her skin was smooth and clear, the color of coffee with just a hint of cream in it. She had dark, doe-like eyes, beautiful, perfectly straight teeth, and the kind of body most people could only achieve with the help of a plastic surgeon: curvy and alluring, without an ounce of extra fat.
“I’m ready when you are,” I announced, stepping back into the living room with my coffee. I tossed one of Ben’s club ball caps on my head and slung my purse over my shoulder. I held my coffee and scone in one hand and locked the front door with the other.
“I can’t believe I’m finally getting some airtime,” Melissa said, her words brimming with anxiety. We buckled ourselves into her Subaru and she backed out of her parking space.
“I’m so proud of you, Mel. I really think this will be your big break. Just try to relax and be yourself during the interviews. The rest will take care of itself.”
“I hope you’re right,” she said, navigating through the city. “I need to think about something else. Distract me. What’s been going on with you?”
“Same old, same old. I’ve settled back into my school routine. And I think most of my kids have gotten the swing of things. Aside from that, I’ve just been spending time with Ben and hanging out with Uncle Walt. He’s met a woman and retired, by the way.”
Melissa’s eyes widened. “She must be one hell of a woman.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t met her yet. We’re supposed to have dinner on Tuesday.”
“Do you think he’ll finally get married?”
“I don’t know. If you asked me last week, I’d have sworn he’d stay a bachelor his entire life. But now, I’m not so sure. I guess time will tell.”
I stared out the windshield as the stadium appeared in the distance. “It really is an amazing building,” I observed.
“I can’t believe we get to be some of the first people to see the team on the field. My brothers are going to shit when they find out about this.”
“Ben too,” I agreed. “But I’m glad he’s working and I get to be here on your big day.”
“Me too.”
Melissa pulled into the stadium’s parking lot and eased into a spot near the front entrance. There were only a few dozen cars in the massive lot, and I knew most of them had to belong to the players. Melissa killed the ignition and pulled two press passes from her glove compartment. She passed me one of the stiff, laminated cards and I pulled the lanyard over my head.
“Are you ready for this?” I asked, my voice enthusiastic and supportive.
She took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m ready. My camera crew isn’t here yet, but they can meet up with us inside.”
We climbed out of the car and made our way to the main entrance. We were greeted by an official looking man wearing a headset. He took one look at our passes and directed us to the press seating near the fifty-yard line.
After finding our seats, Melissa and I spent the next hour watching the players scrimmage on the field. As I watched the game, I felt the strangest sense that I knew one of the quarterbacks.
That’s impossible. I’ve never met anyone capable of playing professional football. Last night’s wine is messing with my head.
About fifteen minutes before the practice wound down, Melissa’s camera crew showed up and shot some footage of the team in action. I’d assumed the after practice interviews would take place on the field and was shocked when Melissa pulled me toward the locker room.
“I can’t go in there,” I insisted. “There will be strange men showering, and changing, and God knows what.”
“Oh come on, Emily. Don’t be such a prude. We’re all professionals and the players are expecting us. No one’s going to be naked.” She pulled me into the room before I had a chance to make any more objections.
To my relief, all of the players were clothed from the waist down. Some still wore their pads and jerseys, but most were lounging around bare chested. The sight was distracting, to say the least.
Larry Davis, the head coach of the Stallions, approached Melissa with a smile and an extended hand. I shuffled behind her cameraman and did my best to blend into the wall.
“Thank you so much for having me, Mr. Davis. I was hoping to ask you a few questions, and then maybe interview a few members of the team,” she explained.
He released her hand and gave her an indulgent grin. “Let me guess. You’d like to have the first local interview with our new star quarterback.”
“I’d love to talk to everyone on the team,” Melissa assured him. “But, of course, if Mr. McAlister is willing, I’d love to speak with him too.”
McAlister? Quarterback…? No. It can’t be.
“I’m willing to speak with you,” a familiar voice boomed through the room and my face flushed hot as I fought the urge to look toward the voice.
“Thank you so much,” Melissa answered, a note of gushing in her tone.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Ethan warned. “I’ll talk to you now and I’ll throw in a sit down after our first home game… on the condition that I can have a few moments alone with Emily. Just to talk, of course.”
This isn’t happening. It’s the wine. I’m home asleep in bed, and this is all just a terrible dream.
I looked up from the locker room floor; every eye was on me. Melissa’s mouth had fallen open in shock while the rest of the team seemed amused by the exchange. I cleared my throat and finally met Ethan’s charming, apologetic gaze.
“Where would you like to talk?” I asked him, forcing a smile that was brighter than I felt.
“Why don’t we step back out to the stadium? Melissa can find us there when she’s wrapped up the other interviews,” he suggested.
I exhaled deeply. “Lead the way.”
Melissa mouthed a quick thank you and turned back to the coach. Ethan walked past his teammates and led me back into the stadium. I was still recovering from my surprise at seeing him and was at a complete loss for words. He didn’t seem to mind the silence though. We sat down and stared at the field for a few moments before he finally spoke.
“You said if we were supposed to meet again, we would,” he reminded me. “So what do you call this?”
“I don’t know,” I hesitated. “I guess I’d call it a coincidence.”
I wanted to believe that’s all it was, but I didn’t. I loved Ben, I reminded myself. At the same time, I felt the strangest pull toward Ethan. And when I looked at him, my heart soared with not only attraction but an odd sense of familiarity. The way it would after seeing someone I loved after a lifetime apart. I didn’t understand my feelings, and that terrified me.
“I’d call it more than that,” he argued. “I think fate is trying to tell us something. You’re destined to give me a tour of this city, Emily Kinkaid,” he teased.
We both knew he wanted a lot more than a tour, though for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why. I was sitting in front of him looking my absolute worst for the second time in a week. He was a professional athlete, surrounded by groupies and cheerleaders on a regular basis. Yet, he wanted me.
“I still have a boyfriend,” I reminded him.
“I still don’t care,” he insisted. “I’ve decided he’s not good enough for you.”
I let out a quick laugh. “Oh yeah? And I assume you are?”
He nodded. “Yes. And before you shoot me down, let me plead my case. First off, I am incredibly attentive. This boyfriend of yours seems to leave you on your own an awful lot.”
“Maybe I’m an independent woman who likes her space,” I suggested.
Ethan stared into my eyes, his face full of understanding. “I can tell you’re an independent woman. But I think that’s more out of necessity, not choice. You’ve spent a lot of time alone in your life, haven’t you?”
I nodded, amazed by how well he seemed to know me. “How did you know?”
“I’ve spent a lot of time alone, too. It’s a pretty common story. My parents divorced when I was eleven. Dad sent checks until I was eighteen, but he stopped showing up for his weekend visits when I was in junior high. Mom married a pompous ass who I still can’t stand, and I avoided them both as much as possible.”
“That must have made for a lonely childhood.”
He nodded. “But lonely was better than pissed off and bitter. So what’s your story? I shared mine.”
“My uncle raised me. He was a pilot, so he was away a lot. And we moved almost constantly, which made it hard to make friends.”
Why am I telling him this? I don’t even know him.
Ethan cleared his throat and stared out at the field. “I understand you’re involved with someone, Emily. I admire that you don’t want to do anything to disrespect that. But I feel the strangest connection with you. I hope you’ll consider being my friend, if nothing else.”
“I think I can do that,” I agreed, knowing it was the last thing I should do. “As long as you understand that we’re just friends.”
“I promise I won’t cross any lines.” He held up a pinky and waited until I hooked mine with his. I let it go quickly. So quickly, his smile widened. “We probably don’t have much time until Melissa’s ready for me. Do you have a pen and paper?”
“I’m a teacher, remember?” I replied, digging through my purse. I pulled out a handful of pens, crayons, and highlighters, along with a small spiral notepad I used to jot down lists of classroom supplies and ideas for lesson plans. Ethan grabbed a black pen and took the notepad from my hand.
“I’m writing down my cell number,” he explained. “A lot of people would pay a lot of money for this, so I’m trusting you here. And I’m putting the ball in your court, so to speak. Call or text whenever you need a friend.”
He closed the notebook and passed it back to me.
“I will,” I promised, opening the book again. I scribbled my number on a black page, my heart racing. I knew I was flirting with fire. I tried to convince myself I had nothing but good intentions, that Ethan and I would just be friends and Ben would be okay with it. But the longing growing within me said otherwise.
“I don’t like sports metaphors,” I told him, ripping the page from the book. I passed him my number with a smile. “No balls, no courts. When you need a friend, you know how to reach me.”
Ethan gave me a satisfied grin and tucked the paper in the waistband of his football pants. I was about to ask him where he’d lived before Portland but heard Melissa’s voice from behind.
“Are you ready for me?” she sang.
I turned and watched her descend the stadium steps, her cameraman trailing behind.
Ethan and I both rose and I stepped onto the staircase. Melissa moved past me, to sit beside Ethan. The cameraman continued two rows down and angled his lens up at their faces. I slid into a seat across the aisle and listened to the interview with rapt attention. The handsome quarterback intrigued me, to say the least, and I wanted to learn as much about him as possible.
“Congratulations on your contract with the Stallions,” Melissa began. “What message would you like to give your critics regarding their claims that nepotism played a role in your coming to Portland?”
Nepotism? What is she talking about? I should really do a better job of keeping up with the local news.
I was a few rows behind Ethan and couldn’t see his face. I imagined him flashing his charming smile at the camera as he answered with ease.
“I’d remind them that my record speaks for itself,” he replied. “I’ve spent my career busting through records. My salary here is well deserved and has nothing to do with the fact that Victor is my stepfather. It was a happy coincidence that my contract with Dallas ran out around the same time the commission granted Victor permission to form this fantastic team. I’m honored to be a part of it.”
Victor Montez is his stepfather? Holy shit… that’s more than a little intimidating. Ethan must have had an eventful childhood.
“You were sidelined by a fractured wrist last season. Are you back to a hundred percent?” Melissa continued. “Has the injury affected your snap?”
“I’m better than ever,” he assured her.
“You were in Dallas for six years. Was it difficult to leave your old team behind?”
“I will always look back fondly on the time I spent in Texas. I made some great friends there. But nothing beats being home.”
Melissa thanked him, paused for a few moments, then yelled “Cut” and rose to her feet. She passed her microphone to the cameraman and extended her hand to Ethan.
“Thank you so much for sitting down with me.”
“You’re welcome. I look forward to doing it again after our opening game. I’ll make sure your camera crew has prime placement that night. And I’ll have tickets at the fifty-yard line messengered over to your office. Unless, of course, you’d prefer to be in a box.”
“Are you kidding me?” she asked, her voice overflowing with excitement. “I know a lot of people probably prefer the luxury aspect of the boxes, but I’m a girl who wants to be close to the action. Thank you so much, Mr. McAlister.”
They shuffled out of the aisle and walked up the staircase side by side. I stood and awkwardly waited for them to reach me.
“It’s my pleasure, I hope,” Ethan told her before flashing me another knee-weakening smile. “I do hope you’ll use the other ticket, Emily.”
“I’ll have to check my schedule,” I replied, dropping my eyes to the ground. I felt Melissa’s inquisitive stare and knew I’d have a lot of explaining to do during the ride home.
“I’ll make sure she’s there,” Melissa promised.
Ethan nodded and perched on the back of one of the stadium seats. Melissa looped her arm through mine and we said a final goodbye before making our escape. When we finally reached the safety of her car, she turned to me with an open mouthed grin.
“This has to be one hell of a story. Start from the beginning.”
***
“Hey Em, do you have a blank copy of the field trip permission slip? My laptop crashed again and Bentley Norris emptied a tub of finger paint onto my hard copies.”
I looked up from my phone to see Linda standing in the doorway of my classroom. Loose strands of hair fell from her braid and her eyes looked defeated and exhausted.
“Long day?” I asked, shuffling through a stack of papers on my desk. I found a blank permission slip and held it out to her.
“Long doesn’t even begin to describe it,” she said with a long-suffering sigh. She crossed the room, took the paper from me, and perched on top of a nearby desk.
“Last night—”
My phone chimed while she spoke, immediately drawing my attention. I read Ethan’s latest message and felt a tell-tale blush spread across my cheeks.
“I’m assuming that’s not your boyfriend,” Linda said with a teasing tone.
I slid my phone into my lap and looked up at her amused face. “No, it was a message from Ethan. But it’s nothing, I swear. He’s really funny, but we’re just friends.”
She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Does Ben know about your new friend?”
I hesitated. Ben knew I’d gone to the Stallions’ practice with Melissa, and I mentioned meeting a few of the players. I hadn’t given him any more details and after cursing his luck for not being able to join Melissa himself, he hadn’t mentioned it again.
“I take that as a no,” Linda announced. I could tell by her tone that she disapproved. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I’ve never been a fan of you and Ben together. But for your own sake, you shouldn’t start a new relationship until you’ve ended the old one.” She dropped her voice as she offered the next warning. “It’s bad karma, Emily.”
“Ethan and I don’t have a relationship,” I argued.
She folded her arms across her chest and stared back at me. “You’ve been glued to your phone for the past two weeks. If that’s not a relationship, what would you call it?”
I felt my face flush hot again and diverted my eyes to my desk. I mindlessly shuffled paperwork and tried to come up with an excuse for myself.
“Fine, maybe I’ve gotten a little carried away,” I relented. “I’ve flirted a little. But it’s still completely innocent.” I swallowed hard. “I love Ben. We have a future together. The attention from Ethan is exciting and flattering, but it will pass. He’s a celebrity, for Christ’s sake. It’s only a matter of time before he hooks up with a cheerleader or a pop star and forgets all about me.”
“So you’re just enjoying the attention while it lasts?” she pressed. I could tell she still didn’t believe me.
“That’s the plan,” I agreed.
That wasn’t entirely true. My rational mind understood that the flirty back and forth banter between Ethan and me was temporary. But my heart was starting to get attached to his entertaining, often thoughtful messages.
“All right,” Linda said. She let out another long sigh and rose to her feet. “Just be careful, Emily. You’re walking a thin line with this. I don’t think you and Ben belong together. But if you’re sure that’s what you want, you need to cut things off with the quarterback and delete all of his messages. Think of how Ben would feel if he found out about this.”
A heavy weight of anxiety gripped my heart. I knew she was right, and I felt terrible for keeping such an enormous secret from Ben… just not terrible enough to stop.
“I’m just trying to look out for you, Em,” she called over her shoulder.
“I know,” I called back as she stepped through the door.
I pulled out my phone again and reread Ethan’s message.
Eating at the diner tonight. Care to join me?
I fired off a quick message turning down his offer and then turned my phone off completely.
Linda’s right. I need to put a stop to this. Flirting with Ethan has been fun, but there’s no future there. I want someone who’s happy with a quiet life, someone who comes home every night. Ben can give that to me. He’ll always be there when I need him.
I slid my phone into my purse, gathered the rest of my things, and set off for the parking lot. I needed to assuage my guilt and decided that surprising Ben with his favorite meal was a great place to start. I drove home, took a quick shower, and spent an hour curling my hair the way Ben liked it. I slipped into my sexiest pair of skinny jeans, pulled on a deep V-neck t-shirt, and brushed on a light layer of makeup before leaving for the market.
Ben was working at the Boys’ Club until seven; I knew he would be tired and wanted everything to be perfect for him when he got home. I hurried through the market, gathering fresh produce, thick cut ribeye steaks, and two different types of red wine. As a last minute impulse, I tossed an already made cheesecake into the cart and proceeded to the register. A few minutes and forty dollars later, I loaded my bags into the back of my car and made my way to Ben’s place.
Ben lived in a large, generic looking apartment complex close to The Day School. With first-come, first-served parking, I was rarely able to park anywhere close. But that night, I got lucky and found an empty spot just steps away from his front door. I found my key to the apartment on my ring, loaded my arms with grocery bags, and decided to make a second trip to carry in the wine.
I unlocked the front door, flipped on the lights, and continued on to Ben’s small galley kitchen. I set the bags down on the countertop and heard a soft, muffled noise from the bedroom.
What the hell? He was supposed to be at practice until seven. I hope he isn’t sick.
“Baby?” I called out, padding down the hallway.
I heard a loud thud, followed by silence.
What the fuck?
I took hold of the doorknob, but it refused to turn. A blend of confusion, fear, and rage grew in my chest and I pounded on the door.
“Ben, are you okay? Why is the door locked? Are you—”
The door opened and my worst fears were realized. Ben stood before me wearing nothing but a guilty scowl. My eyes moved from him to the redhead, half covered by the blankets. She looked at me with an evil, triumphant grin and leaned back on a pillow.
“Emily, I’m so sorry. This isn’t how I wanted you to find out,” he stammered.
“So you did plan for me to find out,” I countered, my voice flat. I was in too much shock to feel anything and reached for the wall for support.
“No… I mean, yes. I mean… I think we’ve both known this was coming. We fit on paper, Em. But the spark just isn’t there.”
“How long has this been going on?” I pressed, the weight of the moment starting to sink in. Tears stung my eyes and I bit the corner of my mouth, determined to hold myself together to whatever degree possible.
“Ben and I—”
“I didn’t ask you,” I snapped, turning back to the redhead. I gritted my teeth when she smirked again, lifting her nose into the air. I spun on my heel and stormed back to the kitchen. I started pulling things out of the grocery bags and slamming them on the counter. Ben appeared a few moments later wearing a pair of boxers. He seemed alarmed by my quick, violent movements and stayed a few feet away from me.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone cautious.
“I thought it would be nice to have dinner together,” I explained, slamming a jar of artichoke hearts onto the counter. “But as I no longer have an appetite, I thought I’d just leave this here for you and your whore.”
“Emily, I’m so sorry. I know you’re upset. But Becky isn’t a—”
“Don’t you dare defend her,” I growled. “Don’t defend yourself either. My uncle was right about you. You’re nothing but a lying, cheating bastard. I recognize your precious Becky. It’s bad enough that you’re having an affair. But did you really have to screw one of the football moms? Does her husband know what the two of you have been up to?”
“Becky and Sean separated eight months ago. Their divorce is supposed to be finalized next week. I know you’re hurt, Emily. As hard as it may be to believe, that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do. If I knew you were planning to surprise me tonight—”
I turned to him, my hands on my hips. Rage was winning out over all of my other emotions, and it took every ounce of strength I had not to knee Ben in the balls.
“What?” I spat. “If you’d known I was coming, you would have screwed your MILF somewhere else?”
He sighed and looked down to the worn tile floor. “I… I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
I couldn’t be in the apartment another minute. I slung my purse over my shoulder and pushed past Ben, storming toward the front door.
“You don’t have to say anything. In fact, if I never hear your voice again, I’ll die happy.” I paused long enough to pull his key off my ring, tossed it over my shoulder, and slammed the door behind me.
I dove into my car and peeled out of the parking lot, trying to outrace my heartache. I failed and pulled over at a home goods store. Killing the engine, I let my tears overtake me. I mourned the loss of the future I’d planned so carefully and tried to figure out where everything had gone wrong. How long had Ben been sleeping with Becky? Was she the first, or just the latest in a string of his conquests? I knew I was probably better off not learning the answers.
I cried until my eyes ran dry, then spent another few minutes composing myself. I didn’t know what to do or where to turn. I knew Uncle Walt would be sympathetic, but I wasn’t up for listening to him rail against Ben. I also couldn’t bear the thought of his inevitable “I told you so” expression. I eyed the two bottles of wine in my passenger seat and decided the occasion definitely called for some drinking. I pulled out of the lot and turned toward home. Somehow, I ended up at the diner instead.