Ben leaned against one of the leather bar stools on the perimeter of the Players’ Club and spun a dart between his fingers. Since he and his two friends had joined the club a while back, it had always been a place of refuge for them—a spot where they could come and hang out with other professional athletes and take their mind off life’s problems. But as Ben played what should’ve been a relaxing game with his buddies, all he could talk about was the most recent issue that’d been plaguing his mind: his brother David’s upcoming wedding. “So what do you guys think? I’m out of ideas.”
“I think you should move out of the way,” Jace said. “Gabe’s up next.”
Ben looked at his location in proximity to the game. “I’m nowhere near the dart board.”
“That’s exactly why you need to move,” Jace replied.
“I’m not that bad,” Gabe said before tossing a dart that landed about a foot and a half above the board.
“Watch it, Torres,” Mike yelled to Gabe from across the club. “Unless you plan on patching up my walls, you better improve your aim.”
The guys laughed, but Mike had probably only been partially kidding. He put his heart—and a shit-ton of money—into the club, which catered to select current and retired professional athletes. Ben was sure Mike didn’t want any holes in the wall.
“How are you even a shortstop for a major-league team?” Ben asked Gabe. “Your aim is shit.”
Gabe ran a hand through his short dark hair and threw another dart, which hit the board this time. “Darts and baseballs aren’t even close to the same thing.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Jace said.
“You better watch it or this next one’s getting thrown at your pretty, blond little head,” Gabe retorted, his dark eyes daring his friend to test him, though the guys knew Gabe was all talk.
Jace shrugged. “Fine with me. You won’t hit it.”
Before Gabe had a chance to make another dumb comment, Ben spoke again. “Can we get back to my problem, please? I’ve had months to think about this, and I still haven’t come up with anything.”
“Why don’t you say you’re injured?” Gabe suggested. “My knee’s still fucked up, and my surgery was over a month ago. Which, by the way, is one of the reasons that my dart game sucks.”
Ben chose to only respond to the first of Gabe’s comments. “Saying my knee hurts isn’t going to get me out of having to go to my only brother’s wedding. It’s not even a month and a half away. And besides, my family will know it’s a lie. I’m a professional hockey player, not to mention one of the few black players the league has. If I were having knee surgery, the news would be all over it.”
Ben stood and walked over to line up for his turn. “My family gives me enough shit for choosing to play a ‘game’ for a living,” he said, using air quotes to emphasize how little his highly educated parents thought of his career choice. “I don’t need to give them another reason to get on my case. My mom already made my brother push the wedding back to accommodate my season. David and Natasha wanted it to be in the spring because New England summers are humid as hell. Just gives David one more reason to hate me.”
“I’m confused,” Jace said. “How is your mom making your brother push back the wedding your fault?”
Ben rubbed a hand over his short beard before tossing a dart hard at the board. “It’s not. But he’ll act like it is.”
“You should’ve told him the end of April was fine,” Gabe said. “The Knights haven’t gone past the first round of the playoffs since you got drafted. It’s like the Curse of the Bambino, only instead of the team sucking because someone left it, it sucks because someone joined it.”
Ben glared at him, but he couldn’t argue with Gabe’s point about the postseason. The fact that the Knights hadn’t made it into the playoffs was the reason he was able to leave Denver for part of the spring and into the summer, so he could shoot the shit with his buddies in Philly until Jace went to training camp and Gabe was healed enough to play baseball again. “I’m the Knights’ leading scorer. It’s obviously not my fault we’ve become allergic to the postseason.”
“So what are you trying to do exactly?” Jace asked. “I mean, what’ll make the time you have to be up in Connecticut easier on you?”
Ben thought for a moment. “I need a buffer or something, I guess.”
“Well, me and Aly’ll be there. And you’re going, right?” Jace asked Gabe.
“Yeah, for sure. I need to get a date to this thing, though.” Gabe took a sip of his beer before setting it down on the sleek, wooden ledge that ran around the perimeter of the club. “Wait,” he said suddenly. “I have a great idea for a bet.”
Ben couldn’t help but laugh as Jace shot a “Fuck you” at Gabe for mentioning something Jace would much rather forget.
“Maybe ‘buffer’ isn’t really the right word. I think it’s more like a diversion—something to get my parents off my back. They’re already disappointed that I don’t have a career that requires me to use my brain instead of possibly injure it. And now that I’m close to thirty, my mom’s been on my case to settle down and start a family.”
“Ha!” Gabe said loudly. “Your mom does know you’re ugly as fuck, right? So no woman’s gonna want to make you the father of her children.”
“You sure your knee’s not healed enough for you to play?” Ben asked, thinking that if Gabe had been traveling with the Premieres right now, he wouldn’t be here.
“Nope,” Gabe said. “I’m all yours for at least another month until I’m better.”
“Great,” Ben replied.
“All right, all right,” Gabe said. “I’ll be serious and help you.”
“Thank you,” Ben said, happy he had the support of both his best friends. The three had been practically inseparable since they’d met in college and roomed in the athletic dorm. All three had been lucky enough to play professionally, Gabe as a shortstop for Philadelphia and Jace as a quarterback for New Jersey. His friends’ close proximity to one another was the reason Ben chose to get an apartment in Philly and spend his time here in the off-season. “I knew you were kidding when you mentioned the bet, but—”
“I wasn’t kidding. I have an idea that might work.”
“No,” Ben said sternly.
“Didn’t you learn anything from me, Torres?” Jace asked Gabe. Now that the bet they’d made last summer was behind them, they could all joke about it. But a year ago, it would have been a different story. Jace had nearly lost Aly when the three friends had competed to see who could bring the hottest date to an awards ceremony. Jace had unexpectedly fallen hard for the beautiful doctor, but all of that had almost crumbled when she’d learned he’d initially asked her out because of a bet.
“Okay, I get why doing a bet again would be a bad idea, but I do think that finding some arm candy as a distraction is a solid plan. A buddy of mine brought some chick he met at an airport to his parents’ anniversary party, and everyone thought they’d been dating for months.”
Ben was skeptical. “Like a fake girlfriend? There’s no way that’ll work.”
“I don’t know, man,” Gabe said. “It might. The secret to a good lie is you gotta believe it yourself.”
“You’re so wise,” Ben said flatly.
“I’m serious,” said Gabe. “The chick I was telling you about ended up getting my buddy’s grandmother’s crab cake recipe, and that shit’s for family only.”
“Just to make sure I’m understanding you right, I should believe you because of a crab cake recipe?”
Jace raised his eyebrows at Ben and Gabe. “It’s actually not a bad idea.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Not you too.”
“You got any better ideas?” Jace asked. When Ben was silent, Jace continued. “I didn’t think so. There’s a decent chance this could work. We just need to figure out who to get to pretend to be your girlfriend. You’re gonna be up there for a few days.”
Ben rubbed a hand over his forehead in frustration. “I don’t know. Fuck. No one’ll want to spend that much time with my family. A few hours with them is more than enough.”
“She doesn’t have to want to spend time with them,” Gabe said, a look in his eyes that told Ben he was up to something Ben was probably going to want no part of.
“Should I even ask what you’re talking about?” Ben said.
“Probably,” Gabe said. “Because I have the answer to your problem.”
Ben looked at him expectantly, but when he realized that wasn’t enough, he said, “Fine, you’re really gonna make me ask, aren’t you? Why doesn’t it matter if she doesn’t want to be there?”
A smile spread across Gabe’s face. “Because you’re gonna pay her,” he said simply.
“Like a prostitute?” Ben replied.
“Not a prostitute,” Gabe said. “An escort.”