by Alex Wolf
“Girls,” their mother snaps to get their attention as they play tug of war with the video game controller. “Can you two stop for five seconds and say hello to my friend, Tate?”
They both look up at me. Each of them gives me a quick, “Hi,” then they go back to what they were doing.
Alexis rolls her eyes. “Have kids, they said. It’s fun.” She grins at me and I laugh. “Let’s go to the kitchen. I have wine.”
“Perfect.”
I have a seat at the breakfast bar while she gets glasses.
She places them on the counter, slides one over by the stem, and gives me a look.
“What?” I take a sip and play coy.
“Out with it. What happened?”
“Nothing.” I shrug. “Can’t I just want to see my friend?” I do my best to smile, but it doesn’t work. Not even close.
“Bullshit. We may have been apart for a long-ass time but I’m still your friend and can sense when something is wrong.”
I lick my lips and take a longer drink. I really should slow down or I’ll end up drunk. With my luck, Weston will call, and I’ll slur my words all over the place. I can’t think of a more perfect ending to this ridiculous day.
“Tate.” She grates my name out like she would with her kids.
I smirk and give her the I don’t want to talk about it, but I know you’re going to make me stare. “Fine. I met someone and he wasn’t who I thought he was.”
“What’d he do? I have two shovels and a plastic tarp in the garage. We can bury him out back and plant flowers over his grave.”
I laugh. I can always count on Alexis no matter how much time has passed. We’ve always just gotten one another. “He wasn’t honest with me and it bit us both in the ass. I straight up asked the dude if he was involved with anyone and he told me no. I knew he was hiding something, but I couldn’t put my finger on what. I overlooked all the warning signs and red flags and went with my heart. Turns out he has a kid and possibly a wife or girlfriend. She turned up outside his door right after we—” I glance around making sure the girls aren’t around to hear me. “Well, use your imagination.” I suck down the rest of my wine.
Alexis looks up at the corner of the ceiling, quietly contemplating the most embarrassing day of my life. “Well, that sucks.” She takes a few more seconds to collect her thoughts. “Do you know for sure they’re still together? Could it have been bad timing? Did he say what was going on?”
“Nope. He practically kicked me out and slammed the door in my face. What’s left to say?” I grind my teeth, the rational part of my brain glad the wine glass is empty because I might down another one like I’m drinking at a college frat party.
Alexis stares at me long enough for it to be awkward. I can’t tell if she’s contemplating or if she’s upset with me, though I can’t imagine what I could have possibly done. “Do you like this guy?”
I sigh and lean back. “Thought I did.”
“Then yes, there’s a lot left to say. Did you give him a chance to explain?”
I don’t like where this is headed and my face heats up. I say to her through my teeth, “No. I left the office and came here.”
“Oh God, you work together?” She shakes her head in that motherly way, like she wants to scold both of us and put us in time out.
I want to get upset at it, but inside I’m looking at myself the same way. How could I fuck up so bad? How could I be so stupid? “Yup. At least until I go back to Dallas. Which I’m thinking should be sooner rather than later. I shouldn’t have gotten involved.”
“Probably so. The situation sounds complicated.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand.
“Your girls are being quiet.” I tilt my head toward the living room, trying anything to distract Alexis from the problem at hand. I think it’s more to take my mind off what I feel and all the thoughts running through my brain. We both pause to listen.
Alexis crosses the kitchen and looks in on them. “All that fighting must have knocked them out. They’re asleep.”
I stand up, not wanting to wear out my welcome. “I should go. You should enjoy your quiet.”
“Nonsense. Stay for dinner. I’m sure Tucker would love to see you.”
I shake my head. “Next time,” I promise and give her a hug.
As I head toward the door, Alexis stops me. “I don’t want to sound condescending, so don’t take what I’m about to say that way.”
I step back and look her in the eyes. “Okay.”
“Maybe you should give him a chance to explain. At least five minutes. Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding, and your feelings and everything that’s going on are amplifying it into a bigger issue than it is. I say this as your friend and an outside observer looking in. I know I don’t have all the details, but I don’t think it could hurt, if you can manage it.”
I nod. “I’ll think about it.”
I mean what I say. I will definitely think about it. There’s only one problem. I don’t know if I want to give him a chance to explain, because a part of me just wants to see him, touch him again, and I’m afraid I might believe whatever he tells me, even if it’s not the truth.
Tate
The cab drops me back at the hotel. I’m exhausted. The doorman smiles at me but I don’t have the energy to offer him one in return. It’s been a hell of a day. I start toward the elevators when I see him.
Gotta be fucking kidding me.
Decker Collins is sunk down in one of the high-back cream-colored chairs turning his cell phone over in his hands. He hasn’t noticed me, and I want to keep it that way. I fall into step with one of the bellboys pushing a luggage cart, praying I can avoid him.
I stupidly look back in his direction and those icy blues slam into me. My face heats.
“Tate!” He hops up, rushing toward me as I get into the elevator. I shake my head as the doors start to close.
At the last minute he squeezes in. “Just listen.”
“I’m not discussing this with you in an elevator.” I hiss the words in his general direction and stare at the ceiling. I can’t look at him right now. He’ll win me over, somehow, I just know he will. I can’t allow that to happen.
Yes, he deserves a shot at an explanation, but later, after I’ve calmed down and can think rationally about the whole situation.
We arrive on my floor, and I step out hoping I can make it inside my room without him barging his way in.
It doesn’t happen. The man is on my heels.
Part of me smiles on the inside at how insistent he’s being, and that’s exactly what scares me. Decker Collins has an ability to grind me down until I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror. Until I’m acting like a giddy teenage girl with a crush on the quarterback.
I groan internally and unlock the door. There’s no point in fighting him. He’s determined to talk to me, and my mind is one big jumble of frayed wires and misfiring neurons.
Decker comes in behind me. His hair is disheveled, and he looks like shit. Good.
I kick my shoes off and place my bag on a chair.
“Will you look at me? Fuck, Tate. Let me explain.” He reaches for one of my arms from behind.
I can’t see him do it, but I can just feel it. There’s no explanation for how two people can be in sync to each other’s thoughts and actions this quickly, but I feel it with Decker, and I can’t give in to it. I just can’t.
I spin around and yank my arm back to avoid his touch. The touch that will have me melting in his arms like nothing ever happened. “There’s nothing to say. You were right. We shouldn’t have gotten involved. Now look at us.” I wave an arm between us. “I didn’t come to Chicago for this bullshit. I don’t want it in my life.”
He takes a step back and raises both his hands. “I owe you an explanation.”
“No. Really. Please don’t. I don’t need to hear any lines or lies. You don’t owe me anything, Decker. Okay, we had sex, and it was great. That’s the end of it. No strings attached.
”
His face falls, just slightly. Not in a disappointed way. In a way that says he failed me. “I want to tell you everything, Tate.”
“Decker.” I let out a sigh.
His blue eyes plead with me and I don’t know what to do. This is new territory for me. Why can’t he just give me a day or two to process? What is it with men not being able to take a hint?
I do my best to avoid the way he looks at me, but it’s impossible. It’s excruciating, because I want him no matter what. I want his arms around me. I want him to comfort me and tell me whatever I want to hear that will make it all better.
I absolutely hate myself for feeling this way right now. It’s like my heart is sitting on the chopping block, and I’ve just offered to have a knife plunged into it.
He grabs my hand.
I look away and stare off at the wall, knowing I should yank my hand away from him, but I can’t and it eats me up inside.
“I didn’t lie to you. I’m not with anyone.” He sighs, and stares right at me, like he can sense my apprehension. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable right now.” He lets go of my hand and backs away toward the door.
My eyes drift over to his. This wasn’t how I expected him to react. I thought he’d say and do whatever he could to try to get in my head again.
“This was a mistake. I should’ve given you more time. I apologize. I just wanted you to know that nothing back there was what it seemed, and I want you to give me a chance to explain. Nothing more.”
I nod to him, as if to say thank you, and you can go now.
“My schedule is full this week with that gym bullshit. And I know you need a few days to process things. But Saturday night. Come to dinner at my place. I’ll cook and we can talk about it then. Please.”
“I don’t think…” I take a step back, trying to escape his pleading gaze.
His face tightens and his brows narrow in on me. “Stop thinking so damn much and just say yes. Seven pm. Saturday night. Say you’ll come.”
“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”
He nods. “You won’t hear from me all week unless it’s work related.”
“Fine. I’ll come. But no bullshit. You’ll give me the truth. I deserve it, and my bullshit meter is off the charts. If I detect a hint of a lie, I’ll be gone.”
“Okay.” He nods again.
“Now go. I need to be alone.”
“Thank you. You won’t regret it.” He turns the knob, pushes the door open, and walks out of the room.
As the door closes, I stumble back against the wall. I need to tell him about the BankIt lawsuit, but I just can’t bring myself to do it right now. I can’t introduce even more tension into the situation. It’s like the entire world crashes into my chest all at once. How does this man make me feel so helpless? So, not myself? My lungs constrict when I exhale, like I was holding my breath the entire time he was talking to me. It’s so bad I don’t know if I’m having a panic attack or hyperventilating. He’s just so intense, and gorgeous, and forceful yet respectful and sweet at the same time. After a few moments, my breathing returns to normal.
If there’s one thing I know, it’s that I’ve never felt this way in my entire life, and I really hope my brain decides to act normal again before dinner on Saturday. I don’t know if I can survive much more of this.
Decker
“What are we doing here? You never do the shopping these days.” Jenny raises her brows at me.
I can’t help but smile any time I look at her. She’s beautiful, smart, funny, and everything I want her to be and more. She really is the perfect daughter, which makes things easy for me as far as raising her goes. Things could’ve been a million times worse. We’re a team, though. Always have been, and every day I wait for it to happen, for her to have a defiant streak, for us to grow apart. It never comes.
I grab a cart and pull up the ingredient list on my phone. I give Jenny a look that says sorry. It’s been like this for about six weeks, me working crazy hours. Once this merger goes through, things will be different, and I’ll be home every night for dinner.
“I told you. I’m making dinner and I invited a friend.”
Jenny grins from ear-to-ear. “Oh, is this friend a girl?” She drags the word out in a singsong voice. She beams at me with the same green eyes her mother has. It takes my mind back to the moment in my office. The worst possible timing in the history of the universe.
I haven’t heard from Monica since then, but I’m sure she’ll be calling soon with her hand out. I’ll happily cut her a damn check and send her on her way to wherever it is she said she’s going. I’ve kept tabs on her over the years. Made sure she kept her distance from Jenny. Monica is, well, Monica. To her credit, she’s never pretended to be anything she wasn’t, for the most part. Her little act at the office was totally out of character and I wonder what brought it on.
I guess she does always seem to put on an act when she’s asking for money. She never just comes out and says it. We have to go through the same song and dance. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism and she’s just embarrassed or ashamed.
Her showing up like that really did a number on me, though. Thank God Monica didn’t come to the house. That’s the only silver lining I can take away from the experience.
Jenny makes a show of clearing her throat to get my attention. “Well… Dad? Is it a woman?”
“Maybe.” I smile thinking about Tate.
I kept my word and my distance all week. It was damn hard, and she made sure to look hot as fuck every single day too. Every time I sat at my desk, all I could do was think about fucking her on it. The way my thighs clapped against her ass, and the way she clamped down on my cock when she came.
I wouldn’t have had time to pursue her this week, even if she’d given me a chance to. The firm representing the victim in the social media body shaming case played hardball, but I think we’re going to be able to reach a settlement outside of court.
Jenny hooks an arm in mine as we slowly ease our way up the aisle. “So, what are you making?”
“Grandma’s meatloaf.”
Jenny’s eyes dart up to mine. “Do you even know how to make it? Why don’t you just have Molly do it?”
I grab a carton of eggs and put them in the top of the cart, thinking about when Jenny was a baby and small enough to sit in the same spot with her chubby little legs dangling through the holes. Seems like a lifetime ago. I shrug. “Tate’s special.”
Jenny unhooks her arm from mine and spins around, stopping us in the aisle. Her face lights up. “So it is a girl? Is she your girlfriend?”
I don’t know if I like how excited she seems to be over this. I don’t know what to think. Part of me thinks I was hasty to invite Tate over. I don’t know if I should be bringing her to my house, introducing her to my little two-person ecosystem. The other part of me knows this is the best way to explain my life to her. To let her see the real me and not the uptight asshole Decker Collins who struts around the office making impossible demands of people. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. What’s with all the questions? Feel like I’m on The First 48.”
“I’m just curious. You’ve never mentioned a woman before.” She glances down one of the other aisles. “Any woman, for that matter.”
I give her a playful punch on the shoulder. “Just help me with the list and stop acting so—girly.”
Jenny laughs at that one. “Don’t know if you know this, Dad, but I am a girl. And I’m in my formative years where I gush over romances and teen heartthrobs, so while this dinner takes place, I’ll be deciding if I can ‘ship’ you two.”
I stare at her like she’s an alien from outer space, having no clue what the hell she’s talking about. Finally, I shake my head to rid myself of whatever teenage jargon she’s speaking. “Go see if you can find a can of breadcrumbs.” Kid is too smart for her own good.
She runs off down another aisle to get them. I survive the rest of the trip without another sixty-question i
nterrogation.
I get busy banging around the kitchen with the pots and pans trying to figure out where Molly puts everything. I think my entire kitchen has been rearranged over the last month and a half, and I have no clue where anything is. It eats at me that I’ve grown so distant. It’s like I don’t even know my own house. Part of me, I think, worries about the fact it seems like I’m not needed at home. Like Jenny and Molly can get on without me.
It gnaws at my stomach. One day, I’m aware, Jenny will be out on her own, living by herself. But that day should be far off in the distance. I tell myself it will all go back to normal as soon as the merger is finalized.
Molly has been making all the meals around here and normally on the weekend all I have to do is order takeout or pop something from the freezer in the oven when I’m not working. I used to cook every night. I start chopping the onions and get the meat ready.
Jenny sits at the table with her homework spread out. She’s working on an English paper. “How did you meet her?”
I stop dicing the onions, and I glance up at Jenny. “Work.”
I spray my hands with cooking oil, so the meat won’t stick to my fingers, and begin mixing everything together.
“She a lawyer too?”
I walk over and look at the blank screen on her laptop that’s open next to her book. “Don’t you have a paper to write?”
“Answer the question, Dad. Stop deflecting.”
I’m being cross examined in my own home. I ignore her and set the timer on the oven and put the pan of meatloaf in. Next, I move on to peeling the potatoes.
“If you’re not going to write anything, you wanna help with the corn?”
“Sure. I got writer’s block anyway.” She puts her stuff away then joins me at the sink to shuck the corn.
My eyes dart back and forth between our hands. This is perfect. I miss it so much. Us, together, making dinner. I don’t normally turn into a sap, well, ever really. But something in this moment, thinking about all the time I’ve missed with her lately, it hits me all at once. “I miss this. I know I’ve been working a lot lately. I want more than just making it home in time to tell you goodnight.”
