Sage Advice

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Sage Advice Page 2

by Katie Graykowski


  He was pretty sure he’d loved Brittany. She had been his perfect partner: drop-dead gorgeous, smart, and he hadn’t minded spending lots of time with her. She was good with kids, and he wanted a family. If that wasn’t precisely love, it was damn close.

  But she’d broken off their engagement because of Sage Advice. And then six months later, she’d become engaged to a podiatrist. It had hurt … sort of. He’d been angry and was still a little bitter. It had taken him a couple of months before he’d started dating again. Now he went out on lots of first dates, but he hadn’t found anyone who didn’t irritate him enough for him to want a second date.

  So, yeah, it had been love.

  He scanned Sage’s latest blog post. Damn right, Wedding Woes should elope and stop shopping for her next boyfriend across the Thanksgiving dinner table. And Dinner Party Disaster was lucky she’d found a man who put up with her control-freak self. She needed to lay off of her man’s BFF. But he didn’t necessarily agree with Sage on Confused. Just because a man liked to get together with his friends didn’t mean he was a bad guy. The lipstick and perfume were a bad sign though.

  “Why are you laughing?” Sweet Louise Harding, official Lone Stars team mom, closed her car door and sauntered up to him. They were in Coach Robbins’s circle drive. While coach no longer coached and was now the general manager of the Lone Stars, everyone still called him Coach.

  Sweet Louise tilted Pierce’s phone down so she could read it. “I thought you hated Sage Advice.”

  “I do, but come on, sometimes it’s funny. I like knowing there are people in the world who are even more screwed up than me.” He turned off his phone and slid it into his pocket. “While I hate Sage Advice, I love you. When are you going to agree to run away with me?” He pulled Sweet Louise into a hug.

  Half-heartedly, she pushed him away. “I’m almost old enough to be your grandmother.”

  “Age has nothing to do with love. I’m in love with you.” He gave her a big, juicy kiss on the cheek. “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

  She laughed, and her husky voice with its Tennessee twang made his heart go pitter-pat. She might be a good forty years older than him, but she was the sexiest, most self-assured woman he’d ever met.

  “We both know you couldn’t handle me.” She returned his hug and then dropped her arms. “But I do know someone you should meet.”

  He threw his hands up and stepped back. “Oh no, I don’t want another fix-up. The last one was a nightmare. She used her fingernail to pick her teeth at the table. It was disgusting.”

  He shivered at the memory of the blonde picking prime rib out of her capped teeth at the Steiner Ranch Steakhouse. Her name had been Elizabeth, or maybe it was Elsie, or possibly Elise.

  Sweet Louise nodded. “I’m willing to admit that Elly was a bad match for you. Bless her heart, she has the common sense God gave a mocha latte. But Chloe is a doctor, very smart, and she has common sense. You’re going to love her.” She slipped her hand into her cleavage and pulled out her purple, sparkly phone. She thumb-typed faster than a high school freshman. “I’m texting you her number.”

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. “I noticed you didn’t say anything about her looks.”

  “Looks aren’t everything.” Sweet Louise grinned.

  “Words a man never wants to hear.” He sighed. He’d have to at least text this mystery woman or Sweet Louise would get angry. There were two beings he never wanted to anger, Sweet Louise and God. In that order. At least God was forgiving. “Fine, but I want to see a picture.”

  “Nope, trust me. She’s pretty.” Sweet Louise grinned up at him. “And she’s a licensed psychologist.”

  “Oh good, someone who’s qualified to tell me exactly what’s wrong with me.” He hated her already. “You don’t have to fix me up. I can find my own dates.”

  “Right, because you’ve been so successful. Your last date was great to look at but dumb as a box of rocks. When I asked her how to spell her first name, it took her three tries to get it right.”

  “Susy can have many spellings.” He offered Sweet Louise his arm. They were headed in for a team family dinner. While Sweet Louise’s son, Devon, wasn’t still a player, Sweet Louise was still the team mom and Devon was still part of the team.

  “You better call Chloe.” She slipped her arm through his. “And I want you to do it right. Take her out to dinner—nothing cheap, either. Be the perfect gentleman I know you can be. Pick her up, open doors for her, and get to know her.”

  “Is this where you tell me she’s beautiful on the inside?” He trusted Sweet Louise, but still. After Brittany, he wasn’t sure he wanted anything serious.

  “It’s time you grew up and dated a good quality woman, someone who values you as a person and not as a paycheck. Chloe’s a wonderful person, and she has her own money.” Sweet Louise rolled her eyes up to his. “And that money isn’t slipped into her G-string while she twirls around a pole. Chloe isn’t shallow. You can actually have an intelligent conversation with her.”

  In his experience, conversation was overrated. He liked simple females; they were easy on the eyes and never complicated things. “What if I like shallow? I’m shallow.”

  “You’re about as shallow as the abyss. It’s time you had a real girlfriend instead of a plaything. I expect for you to call Chloe within the next twenty-four hours.” She patted his arm. “Now, let’s talk about your personal appearance at Dell Children’s Hospital next week.”

  He mentally reviewed his schedule. “I don’t have a personal appearance next week.”

  “You do now. I’m donating a science lab in my daughter’s name. Lara loved science.” Sweet Louise smiled to herself, but he heard the sadness in her voice.

  Coach Robbins had mentioned something about Sweet Louise adopting a little girl who had died of cancer. Pierce put his arm around Sweet Louise. He didn’t want to ask about Lara in case it made her even sadder.

  “Just tell me what time to be there.” He’d do anything for Sweet Louise, which was why he would call … um … Clara, or Cally, or maybe it was Connie. “I’ll even bring Crissy.”

  “Who’s Crissy?” Two broken lines dented her forehead.

  “The lady you want me to go out with.” He was like fifty percent sure her name was Crissy … okay, forty.

  “Chloe. Her name is Chloe Caldwell, PhD.” Sweet Louise stepped out of his half-hug. “Now that I think about it, she’s not your type. She’s too good for you. I think Handsome Hansen is better for her.”

  “Now that’s just hurtful.” Noah Hansen, a.k.a. Handsome Hansen, was his friend and fellow teammate, but when it came to women, the guy was even more of a dog than he was. Noah’s idea of a long relationship was spending the night with her after sex. In the past, he and Noah might have been a little competitive at just about everything, including women. Like hell was he going to let Sweet Louise give his good girlfriend potential to Noah. “You did that on purpose.”

  Sweet Louise threw him a broad smile. “Son, I’ve been manipulating men since the day I was born. You didn’t stand a chance.”

  “The fact that I know that should make me angry, but I’m inclined to let you manipulate me all you want.” He flashed her his most charming smile.

  “Don’t waste that smile on me. Save it for Chloe.” Sweet Louise glared at him. “Say her name with me … Chloe … Chloe … Chloe.”

  He said the name with her.

  “I read somewhere that if you say something three times out loud, you commit it to memory.” Sweet Louise took his arm again.

  “Is that why Dorothy said, ‘There’s no place like home,’ three times as she clicked her heels together?” He clicked his heels together. “I promise to call Carla and remember her name.” He did his best to sound serious, but he couldn’t pull it off.

  Sweet Louise waggled her right index finger at him. “You’re coming dangerously close to never getting another slice of my famous peach pie.”

  He stopped in hi
s tracks. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” This time he had no trouble being serious. He lived for her peach pie.

  “You’re going to have to up your groveling game to get out of this hole.” Sweet Louise waited at the front door. She expected men to open doors for women and withheld peach pie if they didn’t. Around Sweet Louise, men jumped at the chance to do her bidding.

  “I’m up to the challenge.” He’d never backed down from a challenge.

  “Good. Do you have a pen I can borrow?” Sweet Louise smiled sweetly up at him.

  He checked the pockets of his jeans. “Not on me.” He held up one finger. “I’ve got one in my car. I’ll be right back.”

  He sprinted to his car and grabbed a black Sharpie from the glove compartment and then sprinted back.

  “Here.” He held out the pen to her.

  She took it and wrote Chloe on the back of his right hand. She handed the pen back to him. “Now you’ll remember her name.”

  “Lucky me, that won’t wash off anytime soon.” He sighed.

  Sweet Louise cocked an eyebrow. “Did you just sigh at me?”

  He shot her a blinding smile. “No, I was just practicing my yoga breathing.”

  “It was just one breath. And it sounded like a sigh.” She didn’t sound convinced, and there was some seriously fantastic peach pie at stake.

  “It’s called the big breath method. You just take one big breath instead of all of those short ones. Less effort—maximum benefit,” he said through a smile.

  She cupped a hand around her right ear and listened intently. “Hear that?”

  He looked around as he listened for whatever she wanted him to hear. “No.”

  “That’s because I have my bullshit meter on vibrate. Just FYI, it’s going off.” Sweet Louise rang the doorbell and then tried the door. She opened it and walked in. She left the door open for Pierce.

  Damn it, he hadn’t gotten to open it for her. It didn’t seem to bother her, but it bothered him. Wait, what? When had opening doors for women become important to him?

  He followed Sweet Louise to the kitchen. They both knew this house as well as they knew their own.

  “There you are.” Grace Robbins, Coach’s wife, hugged Sweet Louise and then Pierce. “I was wondering if y’all were just going to flirt on the front lawn and then leave.” She pointed to the TV mounted above the pantry door. It was split screened so she could see the view of nine cameras.

  “I tried to get her to run away with me, but she kept saying no.” He hung his head in mock disappointment.

  Devon, Sweet Louise’s son, gagged. “That’s just gross.”

  “I know what he means.” Coach swept Sweet Louise into his arms and waltzed her around the kitchen.

  Grace nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, please take him. Maybe you can teach him how to take out the trash, sort the colors and the whites, and put his things away.”

  Sweet Louise stepped out of his arms. She leveled a mom-stare on Coach. “What’s this about you not doing your chores?”

  Coach paled under her gaze. “Um … I’ve got to go take out the trash now.”

  He pulled out the tall drawer that held the recycling and the trash, gathered up both bags, and headed out the back door.

  Grace high-fived Sweet Louise. “You’re a miracle worker.”

  “Men have to be reminded of things every once in a while.” Sweet Louise sucked on her bottom lip in thought. “Why don’t women have to be reminded of things?”

  “Because our brains are filled with rapidly firing neurons that don’t get bogged down by thinking of stupid things like food, sex, boobs, beer, sex, and football.” Coco Charming, Coach’s daughter and the team doctor, walked into the kitchen with her newborn daughter asleep on her shoulder.

  “That’s not true.” Seth Charming, her husband and the current Lone Stars quarterback, walked into the kitchen carrying a huge messenger bag, a giant playpen thingy, and a folded-up-chair-looking device. “The order is sex, food, sex, football, sex, boobs, sex, beer, and sex.” He dropped everything next to the huge kitchen table and pointed to the area of his head right above his left eye. He drew a circle the size of a quarter on the area. “Right here is where we process everything that doesn’t have to do with sex, football, boobs, food, or beer.”

  Grace nodded. “So much makes sense now.”

  “Yes, the greatest mystery of the universe has been solved.” Sweet Louise rolled her eyes.

  Grace wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and practically peeled the baby from Coco’s shoulder and settled her on her own shoulder. “It’s time for baby Gracie Louise to have some grandma time.”

  Sweet Louise patted Coco’s back. “Child, you look exhausted. Why don’t you run upstairs and take a nap? We need to spoil Gracie, and it’s better if you’re not around.”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.” Coco left in a dead run with Seth not far behind her.

  “How long until we can teach her to swear and cheat at blackjack?” asked HW, one of Coach’s twin sons, from across the table.

  Cart, Coach’s other son, leaned back in his chair. “I have dibs on swearing. Everyone knows I’m better at it. Want me to show you?”

  “No,” Grace and Sweet Louise said in unison.

  “That’s not fair. It’s one of my God-given talents.” Cart grinned.

  “You have other gifts you could teach her.” Sweet Louise leaned down and kissed Gracie on the top of the head.

  “Yeah, like how he can curl his tongue or teach her to be a coward and refuse to tell Dad the truth about what he and HW have been working on.” Luke, Grace and Coach’s teenaged son, propped his feet on the table.

  “Get your feet off of the table.” Sweet Louise reached around Grace and smacked Luke on the back of the head.

  “Ouch.” He rubbed the back of his head.

  Cart glared at Luke. “Snitches get stitches.”

  “Oh, for the love of God.” Grace rocked her namesake back and forth. “You’re going to have to tell your father sooner or later. Sooner would be better. He needs to hear it from you and not on the evening news.”

  “Tell me what?” Coach walked into the kitchen, went to the cabinet, grabbed a glass, and filled it with ice and water from the fridge.

  Grace glanced at Sweet Louise, and then they both looked at Cart.

  “Um … HW and I are bringing a major league soccer team to Austin.” He wouldn’t look at his dad.

  Coach dropped the glass, and it shattered on the wood floor. “What did you just say? Because I think you just said that you’re bringing a team that kicks around a black-and-white ball that the rest of the misguided world calls a football to our sacred and beloved hometown.”

  He didn’t seem to notice that glass shards and ice water were everywhere.

  “Cart and I are bringing a professional soccer team to Austin. They’re going to be called the Austin Kicks.” HW held his father’s gaze.

  Grace held the baby out for Cart to hold. “Here, take your niece. He won’t kill you while she’s in your arms.”

  “What about me?” HW looked at Grace.

  “Sorry, only one grandbaby to go around. You’re on your own.” She headed to the pantry and came out with a mop.

  Sweet Louise was already on her knees picking up shards of glass.

  “See, I knew he was your favorite.” HW folded his arms across his chest and pouted.

  Pierce had to admit that watching a grown man pout wasn’t appealing. From that moment on, he resolved to never pout.

  He smiled to himself. He loved this family and thought of them as his. They were so much better than his real family. The Robbinses might yell, but there was always love behind it. And Coach, no matter how angry he was, never hit or kicked or threw chairs at his family. No one had to hide from him. He was the father Pierce had always wanted and not the one he’d been born with.

  Chapter 3

  Chloe paced back and forth.

  She could do this. It was
just dinner. She could do dinner. Hell, she ate dinner every single night.

  Only, she would be eating dinner with a total stranger. She pinched the bridge of her nose. How could she have thought that a blind date was a good idea? True, she needed a fake fiancé, but still, this was a nightmare.

  The only other blind date she’d been on had been a complete disaster. Because of her anxiety, she’d taken a Valium on her first blind date. The Valium had been prescribed by her psychiatrist, and it was a very useful tool to help some individuals cope with anxiety. Although she didn’t take it often, it had helped with her anxiety that night, but only because it had made her sleepy. Unfortunately, she’d fallen asleep and face-planted into her lasagna. She’d almost drowned in the marinara.

  She’d blocked the rest of the night out of her mind. There had been an Uber ride home, and the next morning she’d woken up facedown on her living room sofa. She had still been wearing her clothes from the night before, and her white sofa had been wearing the remains of her lasagna. She’d bought a new sofa and considered changing her name and moving to Canada, but she’d settled for moving across town and never going on another blind date.

  Not surprisingly, Dex, her date, had never called her again.

  Who was she kidding? She couldn’t go out on a blind date. This was insane.

  She glanced at the advance copy of her book sitting on her nightstand.

  She could do this. She had to do this. She needed a fiancé, and she needed him fast.

  There had to be a way out of this that didn’t involve faking a breakup or telling the world she’d lied about her fiancé or … she couldn’t think of another scenario.

  Unless … her fake fiancé died, or better yet, disappeared mysteriously in … where did people disappear mysteriously? South America? But wait, South America seemed a bit too vague. Wouldn’t she know the name of the country where her fiancé had disappeared? For that matter, what was he doing in South America?

 

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