Willow

 

“Honey, do you mind if Bob and I stop by?” My mom, newly in love, couldn’t keep the sweetness out of her voice.

“Of course not. Make it six, and I’ll cook.”

“I’ll bring something. We have news,” she said.

I smiled, surprised they’d waited this long. “Okay, I’ll see you then.” Glancing at my office door, I took in a battered-looking Andy as I ended my phone call.

“What are we so smiley about?” he asked.

“Oh, just my mom. Bob proposed.”

“Joy.” He grunted, taking a seat.

“Are you all right?” I’d been concerned for some time, but he was my boss and I wouldn’t cross the line. He’d never been one for getting too personal, and I respected that. But for a few weeks now, he’d been showing up to work hungover, untidy, and in a foul mood. I hadn’t wanted to approach him for anything.

He blew out a deep breath before he spoke. “Carmen left me.”

“I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized you were having trouble.”

“No trouble. Just her cheating on me.”

Not to mention your gambling problem. I stood and walked over to him. “I’m sorry she treated you that way.” I patted his shoulder, not knowing what else to do, or why he’d confided in me.

His head tilted to the side, examining my touch. “Willow, I know—”

“Andy, can you check the downtown music piece?” Chelsea interrupted, coming to a halt in the doorway. “I’ve got half an hour until I have to go to the gala.” The intern’s eyes shot to my hand on his shoulder.

I pulled my hand back quickly, which only made me look guilty. Her eyes widened, and I grimaced. Crossing my arms, I tucked my hands tightly into fists, realizing she’d gotten the wrong idea.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He stood and nodded. “Thanks, Willow.”

“You’re welcome. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

He nodded and trailed behind Chelsea.

After Andy confessed his troubles, I chose to remain at my desk for the rest of the afternoon. I hated that his life seemed full of chaos, but at the same time, I could tell he was making personal choices that were probably contributing to it. Every few minutes, I found myself glancing at the clock on the wall, praying an hour had passed. And every single time, it had been no more than twenty minutes. Frustrated with the whole situation, I packed up my belongings at four-thirty, willing to risk slipping out, hoping no one would notice.

My stop at the grocery store took no more than ten minutes. Uneasiness set firm in my gut, as I grabbed both grocery bags from my car, and headed inside to start dinner. The last thing I wanted or needed was unnecessary drama in my workplace.

Still in a funk, I barely heard my mom as she settled into her place at the bar. “Did you hear me, honey?” The stool scraping across my tile floor startled me.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I stirred the sauce, giving her my full attention.

“Are you okay? Have a rough day at work?”

“Something like that,” I chose to say, instead of what I was thinking. I’m pretty sure my boss is using, because as much as I hate to admit it, my past experience flies through my brain like a red flag when I look at him.

“Let me finish this, okay? Go take a load off. I’ll meet you in the dining room.” She slipped past me and pulled the utensil out of my hand, before shooing me away.

“Thanks, Mom.” I grabbed my wine, and joined Bob in the dining room.

He smiled as I took a seat across from him, then got right to the point. “Just so you know, I love your mother very much. I know it seems fast, but I don’t want to waste any more time. We’re not getting any younger.” His hands were clasped together, resting on the table.

“I appreciate that, Bob. I just want her happy.”

“I plan on spending everyday making that happen.” He grinned again, wider this time. It was clear by the relaxation in his shoulders, he was relieved by my response.

“What are you going to make happen?” Mom asked, bringing the pasta to the table.

“I was just telling Willow that I plan on making you happy every day.”

She kissed his forehead and took a seat beside him. “I’m very happy, dear. You both make me happy.” She looked to me. “And you’re okay with everything?” Mom held her left hand in the air to show off her ring.

“Of course. I love you.” I took another sip of my wine. “Sorry if I’ve been distracted; work is nuts right now.” I reached for her hand. “Tell me all about how you guys plan to celebrate.”

I focused on her the rest of the dinner, making sure to talk nothing but wedding and honeymoon plans. I listened as she and Bob told me every small detail they’d already decided on, and the larger ones she expected my help with.

At eight o’clock, they left hand in hand, but only after my mother cleaned every square inch of my kitchen. I knew better than to argue, so I humored her. Turning off the lights, I headed straight for my bed. I wasn’t even tired. I’d surpassed that long ago. I was worn out.

Sinking into my pillow, I closed my eyes. A smile spread across my face as a rogue thought of Conner Payne came to me. His tough exterior and no-nonsense disposition probably scared a lot of people away, but not me. Curiosity rolled through my mind a mile a minute. Questions, probabilities, and genuine interest circled my gut like the wings of a hummingbird.

Then thoughts of Andy invaded my Conner daydream. I rolled over, pulling the blankets up over my head. I despised that I had once been where he was. His blatant disregard for his well-being, his career, or anything else for that matter, made me feel sorry for him because I saw his reckless abandonment for what it was…total and complete hopelessness. I had known that feeling all too well.

 

***

 

Lena nudged my shoulder as we entered the club. “I can’t believe you took Tommy up on his offer.”

“Stop saying it’s a date.” I rolled my eyes. “He casually mentioned that he’d be out, and asked if we wanted to stop by and hang out. That’s all.”

“I never said it was a date.”

“I know you’re thinking it. So, shut up.” I poked her in the chest, and she laughed, trying to dodge the contact as we approached the doorman.

The club was packed, and the bar was three deep. “I don’t think we’ll be able to find a table,” I said, side-stepping bodies at every turn.

“Doesn’t look like we’ll need one.” Lena pointed to the VIP area, just one floor up. Tommy and his friends were sitting on a red velvet couch, waving for us to join them. I nodded and took Lena’s outstretched hand to follow her lead.

Tommy was waiting on us at the top of the stairs. “Hey, ladies. Welcome to my party.” His boyish grin gave away the few drinks in his system. I leaned in for a quick hug before he led us to the couch, where the rest of his group were hanging out. “Guys, this is Willow and her friend, Lena. I think some of you may have done an interview with her the other day.”

I recognized a couple of the guys as they nodded and raised their drinks in my direction. It was rowdy—to be expected—but controlled as well. We were the only women in the area, which surprised me. After exchanging pleasantries with one of Tommy’s buddies, I glanced to my right. Conner Payne stared back at me, as though we were the only two people in the room.

I glanced down, feeling embarrassingly explored. As if his cognizance was all he needed to discover my cloaked character. Without speaking a word to me, his silence spoke volumes. He saw something in me. I swallowed, wondering what it was.

My mind was strong. The outer wall of self-preservation that therapy had provided over the years had given me a mental armor no one had been able to penetrate, including Lena. Until that very moment, that is…when he looked through me, as if he was able to gauge my moral compass.

Even in a crowd, seated with people to either side of him, he had a loneliness about him. Seemingly out of place, even though he appeared chill. Conversations rolled on around him, but not once did he join in. The black T-shirt he wore stretched tight across his chest as he leaned back into the couch, his right arm resting comfortably on the back cushions. Long legs stretched out before him; his left hand relaxed on his thigh. His mood to anyone else may have come off as bored at best, but the tension pulsating between us shook my insides like an earthquake, and I was confident he had the same feeling. His gaze held mine as the drinks were being poured and laughter bellowed around us.

I moved to sit down with Lena and Tommy, giving Payne my back.

“How long have you worked at the paper?” Tommy asked as Conner’s silence beat against my back in perfect time with the slow, soulful music.

I smiled, but it felt fake. “Two years.”

“Cool. I’d be fine with more interviews, if you ever need someone to fill a column.”

“I appreciate that.” My skin burned, tiny bursts of heat spreading, as if a tattoo gun repeatedly punctured my sensitive skin. His stillness created an atmosphere where my senses were in overdrive. “I may take you up on that. It seems I’ve missed out on some juicy stories by not covering you guys before.”

“Oh, we got juicy.” Tommy smirked. “We’ll knock the socks off your readers. Plus, it will help us out too. Most of us are trying to make it to the AFL.”

“AFL?” I sipped my wine, genuinely interested in the direction our conversation was going. Last week, I hadn’t even known the league existed, and now I was trying to get the inside scoop. I blamed it on the reporter in me.

“American Fighting League. Trevor Steele, you know the owner of the gym we were at the other night? He fights in it. It’s a pro league.”

“Oh. So why does he have amateur fights in his personal gym?” I was almost as curious about Steele as I was about Conner Payne.

“He’s just cool like that,” Tommy replied. “Steele helps all of us out. He lets us train and fight at his gym, and certain fights attract the AFL owner. He has the connections.”

I nodded, agreeing with him that Steele was cool. Helping the other guys out like that was indeed a nice thing to do, especially knowing he didn’t benefit from it.

“I’m heading out.” Conner interrupted our conversation to give Tommy a tap on the shoulder.

“Come on, man. It’s still early,” Tommy said.

Conner shook his head. “I got shit to do.” He made it seem effortless; walking away.

Tommy nodded. “You working-out tomorrow?”

I couldn’t help but stare at him, waiting for another word from those lips. He glanced at the rest of the group, then back at Tommy. “Don’t know yet. Catch you later.”

After his brief goodbye, Conner looked over his shoulder, making our final connection of the night. I’d never taken my eyes from him, even though Lena and the others were laughing hysterically at something one of them had said.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, while I uncrossed my bare legs. His gaze flickered down at the movement, the hunger in his eyes taking my breath away. My lips parted just as he looked back up at me. My lungs expanded, making my dress tight enough to bust at the seams. I carefully let the air out, managing to release it without feeling lightheaded. He quickly turned for the exit, ending the moment.

Watching his back move through the crowd, I wondered what it was about him that made me feel like I knew him. Not in an acquaintance sort of way. And not in a seen-him-before sort of way. I’m talking about recognizing the inside parts of another human being, and relating with them on a level that scratches the surface of intimacy.

“Want to dance?” One of Tommy’s friends asked, interrupting my one-sided staring contest.

I took one last sip of my wine and closed my eyes, taking a moment to gather my thoughts before I answered him. My limbs were heavy; my body, lethargic. I shook it off the best I could and opened my eyes, focusing on Gage.

A boyish grin spread across his face as I grabbed his hand, and he winked at my acceptance. It seemed he didn’t have a care in the world, and honestly, after the encounter I’d just had with Conner, I welcomed easy.

Gage turned me around, then dipped me—almost dropping me—and we both laughed as I clung to him. There was something intriguing about him. His dark hair curled on the sides because of sweat. He looked like a young child instead of someone who kicked people’s asses for a living.

“What made you want to be a journalist?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I raised my voice loud enough for him to hear me over the music. “I guess I felt like I had something to say. I usually don’t cover sports, but the guy who does is sick. And my boss sort of pushed me out into this world.”

“You like it. I can see it in your eyes!” He grinned, twirling me around. “You’re surprised that us assholes are entertaining.”

“Honestly? Yes. I love the excitement.” I smiled, matching his. “To think that all of you guys are working your asses off to go pro is fun to watch. Hard work and intensity? I can get behind that.”

“Helps that we’re all hot as hell too, yeah?” He laughed this time.

“Right…that is exactly what I was thinking.” I rolled my eyes, and held my smile in. He wasn’t wrong.

“Willow!” I turned to see Lena heading our way. “Potty break. Sorry, Gage. I need to steal her for a minute.”

“I’ll be around,” he said, but didn’t look at either of us. His gaze had already moved on to a sexy brunette who’d been dancing next to us with her friend.

“What’s up?” I tried to ask, but she was already dragging me into the bathroom.

“I cannot believe you left me with that fucking geezer!” She shrieked. “He reached in front of me and grazed my boob. His sixty-five-year-old ass touched my tit.” She grabbed two handfuls and bounced her boobs. “I think it deflated! It’s seriously smaller than the other one now. It shriveled up!”

I chuckled, turning her around so I could inspect them. After grabbing them, I assured her they were both the same size. “What sixty-five-year-old?”

“Some agent they knew.” She turned to the mirror, and reached into her bra, giving both breasts a lift in the cups. I giggled at the sight of her inspecting each one. “He barged in at our table, drunk as a skunk, and set his sights on me.”

“Gross.”

“That’s not why we have to leave though.” She bit her lip.

I knew every time Lena brought up getting the hell out of dodge, when we were not ready to leave, meant that she had done something. Something stupid. I rolled my eyes, then faced her head on, so she could explain the situation.

She took my hands in hers, as if asking my forgiveness, before she admitted her wrongdoing. “It’s not my fault.”

“Go on,” I urged.

“He kept inching closer to me. Looking down my shirt when the other guys weren’t looking. Accidently hitting my boobs. Whispering stupid shit in my ear. I’d had enough, Willow. So, when I got up to come get you, I climbed over him because I knew he’d love it.”

“Okay…why are we leaving without telling anyone bye then?” I knew that wasn’t the end of it.

“I may have crunched his balls with the pointy end of my stiletto.”

My eyes bulged. “You stuck your heel in his dick?”

“By my calculations, I put extra pressure on his nut sack, right at the bottom. I didn’t actually get the ball, though. Only the extra skin.” She pulled her hand from mine to demonstrate with her thumb and index finger.

“You tried to find his nut sack while all this was going on?”

“Hell yeah I did. I was going to make it count. But now I think we need to go, because he was bent over, talking about needing to puke. And I saw Steele scooting around the table to help him. So, needless to say, I don’t think we’re welcomed in the VIP area anymore.”

“I can’t take you anywhere.” I shook my head, grinning at my best friend.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Just not tonight. I can’t have Grandpa hobbling after me all night, fucking up my game.”

Exiting the bathroom, we glanced around the bar to make sure no one was looking for us as we slid out. The last thing I wanted was to have Steele revoking my invitation to the gym. I’d gotten more material from the fighters than I had in a month of working on feminism.