Baby Daddies: Puck Buddies Series

by Tara Brown

  “Nothing too sweet, Nat has to fit into her dress!” Sami shouts after him as Nat lifts her middle finger but not her eyes from her phone.

  “Who cares about the sweetness, this girl ate an entire pizza last night,” Brady says with a laugh as Nat lifts her gaze and glares at him.

  “What?” Sami gasps and sits on the wide leather sofa. “I told you two weeks before the wedding you have to eat total protocol so your skin is glowing and you’re as thin as can be. The camera adds weight.”

  “Listen, I had a craving and there was no satisfying it. I tried your stupid strawberry smoothie. And the kale salad and eventually I’d eaten like ten things trying to crush the craving for pizza. It made more sense to just have pizza.”

  “She has a point.” Carson flops onto the sofa next to Sami who snuggles into him. “When you have a craving, it’s better to give in than fight. It gets worse if you ignore it.” His eyes dart to mine. “And then you end up flying to LA to satisfy that craving.”

  Matt laughs and Brady nods. “Fuck yeah. I still can’t get over it. Watching you beat his ass made me happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

  “Wow.” Nat gives Brady a look.

  “Different kind of happiness, Banks,” Brady defends himself quickly. “It satisfied a caveman urge that nothing but a good fight can cure.”

  “You should stop while you’re ahead,” Matt suggests.

  “Oh, he’s not ahead.” Nat gives him crazy eyes.

  “Anyway, yes, Liam got about half of what he deserves. Let’s get back to the wedding details.” Sami sits up and we all die a little inside. Even Nat.

  Fortunately, Rich brings in a tray of slushy concoctions in varying colors that provide a treat to motivate us to suffer through Sami’s spiel. She stands and uses her iPad to show us the designs she’s been working with and the plans for my house on Martha’s. Nat eventually gets into it too and between the two of them I’m convinced this will never end.

  We’re about two hours in when Brady glances at me and mouths, “Sandwiches?”

  “Yup.” I get up with Simon on my heels. He always senses when I’m headed to the kitchen. I bring out the pâté Millie left for Simon, even though he shouldn’t be eating it, and place it on the far side of the counter. He jumps up and starts eating, making that funny picking sound he does every time he has it.

  Millie and Grace would both be proud of the result when I carry in the tray of food and place it on the coffee table.

  “God, she makes you look good,” Matt says with a laugh and lifts a gooey, hot pesto panini.

  “I love her,” Brady moans when he takes his first bite.

  “What is that zesty flavor?” Rich asks as he wipes his mouth.

  “It’s a relish, I think. She makes all these sauces herself and cans them or jars them. We have shelves of it but I don’t know what they all are.” I take a bite and sigh as the pesto and perfectly ripe tomato blend into the warm smoked Gruyere.

  The room is silent apart from the odd appreciative moan or sigh.

  “What the actual fuck?” Bev asks as she grabs for a second piece. “This is the best sandwich I’ve ever had. Has this one got dates with bacon?”

  “Bro,” Brady agrees with a nod and another sandwich.

  “Geoff would love this—” Bev slips and freezes as Matt and Sami both turn their heads.

  Nat and Brady wince.

  Carson stops eating and stares, his sandwich remains in the air like he’s about to take a bite.

  Rich keeps eating, oblivious to what just happened.

  “Who?” Matt asks.

  “My camera guy, Geoff?” Sami laughs as if this is absurd. “How do you know what kind of sandwiches he likes?”

  Bev narrows her gaze for a second before she nods. “Because we’re dating. Get over it.” It’s brave and maybe not the approach I would have taken with Matt since he and Sami have been fighting almost nonstop for weeks.

  “I see.” Matt resumes chewing but his mind is reeling as things click into place. “That’s why you’re still here? That’s why you came to Manhattan?”

  Sami’s nose wrinkles and for a second I’m praying she doesn’t say anything bitchy.

  “Well, sort of.” Bev glances at me.

  “Sort of.” I chuckle.

  “Weird, slumming with the help,” Sami offers and that’s the end of the discussion, thank God.

  “Anyway, back to the wedding.” Nat waves a hand and continues eating.

  Everyone but Sami gets a deadened stare in their eyes as she starts up again, refreshed from the food and ready for hours of final touches for a wedding that will rock the pauper world.

  5

  Slumming it

  Sunday, July 16

  Jenny

  “Okay, so that’s the most insane story I’ve ever heard, and if you weren’t jobless and currently trending on Twitter, I would call you a liar,” Claire says with a laugh as she sits back and wipes her mouth. “Why didn’t you tell us everything that was going on when we all got together a couple of weeks ago?”

  “I didn’t know where to start. Talking about the Ben thing with you guys was more than enough.” I force a laugh.

  “We should have called a full girls’ sushi date. Jenny, you’re living back in Woodlawn, dating a billionaire, but thinking about taking a job in Canada? This is a big deal. You can’t just go back to BC without us all having our say.”

  “I know, but it’s a good job.” I sigh and stare out the window of our favorite Japanese restaurant in South Bronx. “Massive starting salary. Moving costs covered. Signing bonus. And it’s back on the West Coast, in Vancouver. I’d be closer to Josh.”

  “Your life’s here.” Claire holds her hands out like my life is in this restaurant. “And what about Lawrence? You guys just started dating.”

  “I know.” I don’t mention he’s the reason I haven’t accepted my dream job offer that came in yesterday when a friend heard I was back on the market and phoned me. It’s the sort of place I’d want to work and feel proud about.

  “You can’t be serious. It’s the far end of the earth.” Claire is not letting this go. “Like add eight hours to everything you want to do. Go to Europe. Visit your parents. Come see us. Canada has the worst flights I’ve ever seen.”

  “I know.” I lower my gaze. “But Josh has an apartment in Van, so I could stay there in the beginning until I find my own place. Being jobless and three months away from homelessness is not how I saw twenty-eight going for me.”

  “Okay, but would you honestly break up with a billionaire to take a job in Vancouver?” Claire’s face is flooded with confusion.

  “I don’t care about the billionaire part—”

  “Lies. Every girl cares about that much money. That’s never working for the rest of your life and buying houses for fun. Stop with your ‘I don’t care that he’s richer than anyone else we know.’” She rolls her eyes.

  “You know I wouldn’t be with him for money. And I want to work.” I laugh at her “buying houses for fun” comment because Sami and Nat do that. “I like him. But we just started seeing each other. I can’t make a decision based on a guy I hardly know.” I lift my eyebrows. “If money was off the table and he was a poor—florist, would your advice be the same?”

  “No, of course not. I’d say take the job.” She shrugs. “And I’d miss you every single day.” She pauses. “Why a florist?”

  I nod at the window, toward the florist shop across the street.

  “Right.” She takes a sip of her tea and taps her finger against the tiny mug. “You’re taking the job, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know.” It’s the truth but I think deep down we both know I will.

  Her eyes narrow. “We’ll see. But changing the subject, can we talk about how big your boobs are in that shirt? What’s happening here?”

  “It’s the bra. It’s one of those push-up ones you wear when you’re a teenager. I haven’t done laundry since the move so I’m dow
n to the bottom of the drawer. It’s killing me. I haven’t worn it in ages, and I’m for sure up ten pounds since I stopped playing so much hockey.”

  “You’re the only girl I know who gains ten pounds of tits and ass. So not fair. I gain ten pounds and it’s all chin.”

  We laugh.

  “Actually, my thighs have taken the brunt of it. But I appreciate you lying to spare my feelings.” My phone vibrates and Lori’s face flashes on the screen. I almost consider not answering but dodging him because I’m too chicken to tell him about the job is unacceptable. It’s time to face the music. “Do you mind?” I ask.

  “No, my God.” She laughs. “Get you some sexy billionaire ass.” She winks.

  “Hey,” I answer and roll my eyes at her.

  “Hi, are you busy?” He sounds like he just woke up, though it’s lunchtime.

  “No,” I lie.

  “I was thinking about coming out to see the new digs, since I haven’t been to Woodlawn before. I don’t know where Woodlawn is, to be honest.” He chuckles.

  “Oh God, why?” I cringe at Claire. “Don’t travel all the way out to Woodlawn to see me. I’ll come to you.”

  Claire makes a face in agreement.

  “I want to. I have something important to ask you. I’m getting in the car now.”

  “Okay wait.” I close my eyes, confessing, “I’m at sushi with my friend Claire in the South. You’ll beat me to my place by at least half an hour if we both leave now. How about I meet you somewhere?”

  “No, send me the address and I’ll pick you up.”

  “O-okay. See you in a bit.” I end the call and hesitantly share my location with him. As much as I want to see him, I don’t want him to see my apartment or hear my news.

  “He wants to see your place?” She wrinkles her nose.

  “Yeah.” I sigh heavily, aware that his apartment and mine couldn’t possibly be more different. Mine’s a postwar brick building with original woodwork, pink countertops, and narrow doorways and hallways.

  “He’s coming from his penthouse at the Plaza in some fancy-ass car and driving you to Woodlawn Heights?” Her tone is how I feel.

  “Yup.” I swallow hard.

  “Can you film his response when he sees those pink countertops and send it to me?”

  “Shut up!” I swat her and laugh but the idea of him there makes my insides clench as we stand and put money in the bill holder.

  I’m more stressed about him coming to my house than I’ve been about a lot of situations we’ve been in. Fortunately, when we get outside, the air is warm and relaxing and the constant hum of the traffic and the warm wind lulls me as I sit on the bench and she fiddles with her phone.

  “You’ll be okay if I go catch the train?” she asks with her eyes still on the phone.

  “Yeah, God yeah. I doubt he’ll be long.” I scoff. “I suspect he’s one of those dudes who drives like an asshole.”

  “Yikes.”

  “Right.”

  “Do me one favor,” she says as she bends and hugs me. “Don’t take the job just because you can’t stand the thought of needing someone.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You know how you are.” She pauses. “I mean, not to be a jerk but your expression while trying to explain that Stan got you an apartment, girl, it was hilarious. I could tell you weren’t comfortable with that place. You were upset he helped you and gave you something. Even if you earned it, you didn’t feel right.” She knows me way too well. “In fact, if I had to guess, you’re happier in your crappy brick apartment with a one-hour commute than you ever were overlooking the park.”

  “Maybe.” I refuse to admit she’s right.

  “You have this inability to let people help you, and I think it comes from Judith and how she’s always downplaying your greatness and pumping up her own kid. You’re so determined not to have help and do things on your own to prove how awesome you are. But you’re the first person to help anyone else.” She steps back, offering a shrug. “Maybe it’s time to let someone in.”

  “I let Ben in—”

  “Did you?” Her tone is high-pitched and mocking. “Did you really?”

  “Yes!”

  “So you let him feel like you needed him and showed your vulnerable side?” She folds her arms over her chest and arches an eyebrow.

  “I was vulnerable.” I say it but now I’m not sure.

  “Okay.” She doesn’t sound convinced. “I’ll let you stew on that since you’re not ready to face the truth. Just tell Lori about the job offer and make the decision that’s truly best for your happiness, not the best route for you to remain an island of independence.” She waves and walks down the street to the station.

  “I love you, which means I’m not an island!” I shout after her, even though her words are fresh wounds.

  “Me too!”

  Before I’ve come to terms with anything she said, a black sports car I couldn’t possibly guess the make of pulls up in front of the restaurant and the tinted window lowers, revealing a smiling Lori. “Hi.”

  Simply seeing his face makes me feel better. Like somehow everything will work out. He’s still Christmas morning magic.

  “Hi.” I get up and walk to the door as he jumps out and gets it for me. “Thanks.” I catch a whiff of his aftershave and try not to inhale him like a weirdo.

  But he grabs me, wrapping his arms around my waist and buries his face in my nape, taking a deep breath of me. “God, I missed the way you smell.” His warm, breathy words against my neck make me shiver. “Can we not do the six days apart thing again? I know you want to slow it down like we just started dating but dating implies seeing the other person.” He straightens up and grins.

  “Maybe we should continue these gaps. You’ve never been this excited to see me.” I kiss him and realize Ben never mentioned our six-day gaps. Ever.

  “I haven’t even begun to show you how excited I am to see you,” Lori growls against my cheek as he kisses once before pulling back and staring as if he wants to say something but doesn’t.

  “What?”

  “Okay, I’m not trying to disregard your request to slow things down, but I want you to come and be my date at Nat and Brady’s wedding. It’s not like Sami’s. Just a couple of relaxing nights on Martha’s Vineyard, and I already have a place there for us to stay.”

  The question catches me off guard and my first response is to say no, but I just promised to be vulnerable and open to this relationship. And maybe saying yes will help him deal with my taking a job across the country. “Yeah, okay. It’s in like two weeks, right?”

  “Two weeks. Sukii and Cap will be there too. He told me this morning he asked her to come.”

  “Oh nice. I haven’t seen her in person since—the office.”

  “Right.” He wrinkles his nose. “Is that okay?”

  “Oh, it’s fine.” I wave him off. “Sukii and I were friends before I started there. We’ll be friends forever. I haven’t seen her because I’ve been too busy moving again.” A weak laugh escapes my lips.

  “Okay. Awesome. It’s gonna be a blast. It’s low key, especially for Sami. But this is the pauper side of their business. Chill and a small budget.” He kisses again and lets me go, stepping back so I can climb in. He closes the door and gets back in on his side. “I’m so glad you’re going to come. Bev will be stoked.”

  “Me too. But I don’t want to be suckered into playing in a band, at all.”

  “I don’t know, I think it was too hot to skip that. Anyway, where to, madam?”

  “Madam?” I wrinkle my nose. “Is that an ageist thing since I brought up our age difference?”

  “No?” He says it like he’s questioning his answer and offers that smug grin.

  “Ass,” I mutter and pull my phone out, sending him the address.

  He taps at his phone and the car starts talking, “Hello, Lawrence. The trip to 257 East 238th Street will take approximately twenty-two minutes.”

 
“Damn, that is far.” He puts the car in gear and revs the engine, pulling away and following the advice of the nav which seems smarter than I’ve seen before. “So you eat sushi all the way down here?”

  “It’s a great spot. But also, it’s the halfway point for me and Claire to meet. She lives in Brooklyn.”

  “Cool. Who’s Claire?”

  “She’s one of my best friends. We met my first year in the city at a yoga class, about six years ago. We have a group of girls we hang with. None of us are from here. We came to the city around the same time. And Claire and I are the last of the single girls.”

  “Interesting.” He nods.

  “What is?”

  “That you were having lunch with her on a sunny Sunday instead of texting me to see what’s up after you basically avoided me all week.” He glances over at me as he speeds up onto the expressway, driving how I imagined he would. “Which means you needed to talk to your girlfriend, something you’ve been avoiding doing with me since you quit your job. Are you having second thoughts? Do we need to pretend we’re not dating so you can go back to Stan?”

  “What?” I ask, wondering how he’s so smart but also tensing every time he swerves in and out of another lane.

  “If you went back, which we both know Stan would take you back in a heartbeat, we couldn’t date publicly.” He sounds worried.

  “No.” I risk letting go of my seat and reach over to put a hand on his meaty thigh. “No second thoughts about quitting. I mean, the homelessness I’ll be facing is concerning but beyond that, I think I made the right decision. And not just because we couldn’t date.” I don’t tell him what my brother said to me when we were in LA.

  “Okay, then tell me what’s going on.” He eyes me again as he swerves to the right and speeds past someone else.

  His erratic driving makes the words shoot from my mouth before I’m ready to say them, “I got a job offer.” The words taste bad, wrong but it’s time to woman up.

  “All right. A decent job offer? You sound funny about it.” He is way smarter than he looks.