by Amy Brent
We both got in the punches we felt we deserved, and now it was time to act like adults.
Specifically, it was time to figure out why my fucking brain couldn’t toss her to the curb.
“How’d you sleep last night?” I asked.
“Fine,” she said.
“Would it help if I told you I was sorry?” I asked.
“No,” she said.
“Are you going to be like this all through lunch?”
“Maybe.”
“Would it help if I told you I woke up with you on my mind?”
She slowly panned her gaze over to me, and I could tell I had her attention.
“You what?” she asked.
“Yeah. Don’t worry, it shocked me, too.”
“Thanks,” she said flatly.
“Not like that. Quit taking everything so personal. You’re better than that.”
“Check, please,” she said.
“Okay, okay, okay. Look, I just want to get to know you a little better, is that so wrong?”
“You could’ve done that last night. Would've made for some nice pillow talk,” she said.
“Well, we can’t go back to last night. We’ve only got right now. So, can we just toss the first two dates and start right here?” I asked.
She looked at me like I’d grown a third head. Like I’d just sprouted two fucking heads beside my own, and she was still trying to decipher what was happening. And I had to admit, I was just as taken aback, but we both couldn’t look like flabbergasted idiots in the same restaurant.
“Sure. I’ll bite,” she said.
“Wonderful. So, tell me a bit about yourself. What’s your favorite color?” I asked.
“Orange,” she said.
“Mine’s chrome.”
“Chrome isn’t a color. It’s a metallic element,” she said.
“Then silver,” I said. “Silver’s my favorite color.”
“Technically, it’s metallic gray,” she said.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“You feel that feeling inside you right now? That gnawing, annoyed sensation that’s eating at your gut?”
“The one that’s telling me to flip this fucking table on top of you right now?” I asked.
“Yep. I fucked you the first time with that same feeling,” she said.
Now she was the one that had my attention.
“Can I ask why?”
“Because I viewed you as every other man. Every other cheating, lying, disgusting man that ever crossed my path. No man has ever treated me with the respect I deserved, so I figured giving you a fun run for your money before leaving you in your most vulnerable state would somehow vindicate me because of all the hurt men have bestowed upon me.”
That actually made a hell of a lot of sense.
“Did it work?” I asked. “Did you feel vindicated?”
“For about an hour. Then I got home, got undressed, crawled into bed, and still cried myself to sleep.”
I held her gaze for what seemed like hours. She openly admitted something I didn’t have to pull from her. A weakness she had. A vulnerability she only showed when she was alone, in the dark, in her room.
“And I’m guessing you did what you did last night simply to get back at me,” she said.
“You’d be right, yes.”
“So, now that we both have hopped off the petty train, let’s try answering some questions that aren’t bullshit questions. How does that sound?” she asked.
“What non-bullshit question would you like answered?”
“What’s the real reason why you won’t try to fix things with your mom?”
I sat there for a long time as our drinks were finally set in front of us. My gaze drifted over her body. Along the smooth frame she held as she sat back into the wooden booth. The way her eyes were kind but held a dagger-laced stare that would threaten to bludgeon me open if I answered her with a lie. She was testing me, giving me one last chance to prove I wasn’t like all those other men.
And even though I had no idea why, I didn’t want to be like all those other men in her life. I might bounce from woman to woman, but I sure as hell treated her with respect when she was with me.
Mostly.
“Because if I attempt to rekindle things with my mother, then to me it seems like I’m somehow putting a stamp of approval on what she did. Like me fixing things with her is me telling her that I approved of her leaving. And I didn’t. I still don’t, and I never will. I’ll never forgive her or be okay with her abandoning my father and me.”
“You mentioned she had a family after she left,” she said. “And that her daughter tries to convince you to fix things with her.”
“Yep,” I said.
“I think you should. If not to have a relationship with your mom, then to have a relationship with her. I don’t have any siblings. My parents were it, and they blew it. I haven't talked to them, and even if I wanted to, I have no idea where they are now. I don’t even know if they’re alive. I’d kill to have a sibling, someone in this world I could call family.”
“Don’t you have any cousins or something?” I asked.
“I come from a long fucking line of ‘only-children’ families. No aunts, no uncles, no cousins, and no grandparents. It’s just me. All the time. And it’s fucking lonely. And if I knew I had a sibling running around out there somewhere, I’d tolerate anything they threw at me to have them in my life.”
I could see tears threatening to brew behind her eyes. She was teetering on the edge of strength and vulnerability. I could see her arms shaking, no doubt from the force she was applying to her hands. She was probably gripping them or balling them up. Possibly wringing them in her lap.
Either way, she was trying to appear strong while simultaneously trying not to slap me for spoiling something she wanted so desperately.
Family.
“If it makes you feel any better, I do try sometimes,” I said.
“Try what?” she asked.
“To have a relationship with my sister. Well, half-sister. We tried to get together for dinner a few nights ago, but things didn’t work out.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“You want the truth? I psyched myself last minute and didn’t show up.”
“You stood her up?”
“Not my best form, I can assure you. But I just don’t know. She pushes it so much, and I-I don’t know how I feel about it yet. Having a relationship with her. Opening that door that could lead to my mother.”
“What’s your sister’s name?” she asked.
I could see this moment of dread floating around in her eyes. Her mind was spinning with something, but I didn’t know what. I had a feeling my answering this question would have consequences.
“Emma. Why?” I asked.
I watched her freeze as our food was sat down in front of us. I took a massive gulp of my water, hoping I was reading too much into things. My eyes danced along her panicked face, trying to figure out what the hell I’d done wrong now.
“What did you say her name was? Sorry, I got distracted by the food. Takes a lot of calories to keep these curves,” she said.
“I bet it does,” I said, grinning. “I enjoy a woman who isn’t afraid to eat. Emma. My sister’s name is Emma.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve got to go,” she said.
And there it was. The moment I knew was coming. I had no idea what I’d said, but I wasn’t letting her leave without explaining herself. I needed to know what the hell I was fucking up now. I needed to know why the hell I couldn’t get my footing with this woman.
“What? Our food just got here. Wait. Wait a second. Sarah.”
“I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly.
I took my wallet out of my pocket and tossed some money down onto the table. I tried to run after her, catch her out in the parking lot, but damn, that woman was fast. Even with her thick thighs and those fucking heels, she was already out of my vision as I stepped out in front of the restaurant. People
were already taking out their phones and asking for pictures, wanting autographs and comments and shit like that.
But all I was doing was scanning the parking lot, trying to figure out where the hell Sarah had gone.
I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket as I pulled it out. It was a message from Sarah, and I opened it up immediately. I went inside and sat back down in the booth, my eyes scanning over the message as I shook my head and sighed.
Things aren’t going to work out. Do not contact me anymore.
What the ever blessed fuck was going on?
Chapter 13
Sarah
I took an Uber back to work and tried to clear my head. I couldn’t believe it. Mason Baker was my best friend’s brother. From the moment he told me he’d stood up his sister for that dinner, I felt a bubble of trepidation bounce around my stomach. I’d listen to Emma talk for years about how she wanted to rekindle her relationship with him. How she wanted to get to know him. Love him. Embrace him despite their parent’s estranged relationship. I’d held Emma while she cried over this man. Over the phone calls he wouldn’t take and the dinners he’d cancel last minute.
But never had he stood her up until that dinner, and I could see the anger and heartbreak it planted in my best friend.
I’d never felt so confident about walking away from a man in my entire life. Had I started to like him a bit? Sure. He understood this fame bullshit and need to stay away from the cameras. He was a hell of a beast in the sack and knew how to wield his cock, but it wasn’t worth it at this point. Not only was he my best friend’s brother, he was the brother who was hurting the heart and soul of my best friend. He was bringing her pain. He was the reason she came crying to me some nights, and I wasn’t about to condone any of that shit.
A man like that was bound to cheat on me anyway. Between his playboy attitude and his blatant disregard for his family’s feelings, whether he wanted a family or not, a man like that would only bring trouble for me. There’s no way we could be together, and at this point, I wanted nothing to do with him anyway.
And the scandals! Yikes. I’d probably become another one of them. I didn’t even want to go into those. The pregnant women coming out of nowhere and the sexual harassment lawsuits. What the fuck had I been thinking?
My own heartbreak had I continued with him would’ve been my own damn fault.
The Uber driver pulled up to my work, and I made sure to tip her well. I walked back into the studio with my head high, though my stomach was growling from the lack of food. I’d gorged on sweet tea but didn’t place a damn bit of that food in my mouth. The moment I came around the corner and saw Emma, I froze.
That is until I saw her holding bags of food.
“I bring good tidings of great joy,” she said, smiling.
“You’re the best,” I said as I embraced her.
“Wanna go eat in your dressing room?”
“Yes, please. I had a disastrous lunch hour, and I could use some pity food,” I said.
“Uh-oh. What happened?”
“Oh, I went out to lunch with that guy,” I said.
“Ah, the mysterious guy whose name you won’t give up. What happened?” she asked.
“We broke it off.”
“Why? Who is he? Did he hurt you? I’ll beat his ass if—”
“Settle down, Hondo. Put those guns away. We just didn’t click. I was falling right into the trap you said I would, only this time I caught it.”
“Girl, good for you. Does this mean you’ll tell me who he is?” she asked.
“It’s not important. Plus, I don’t want to ruin his image with anyone. I’d like to think he’d give me the benefit of the doubt as well.”
“Well, as nosy as I am, I can respect that,” she said. “I’m sorry you guys didn’t click.”
“No, you’re not.”
“You’re right. I’m not. You shouldn’t be jumping into another dating scenario right now, and I’m glad you’re not,” she said.
“Great. Now, all we have to worry about is devouring this glorious lunch you surprised me with.”
“And it sounds like I came on the perfect day,” she said.
“You did, Emma. You really did.”
Just as I went to take a bite of my steak salad, my phone buzzed. I looked down, saw it was Mason calling, and I silenced my phone. If he was going to be this intent on trying to get in touch with me again, I was going to have to fucking shut off my phone. If Emma peaked over and saw his name scrolling across my screen, I’d be in a shit-ton of trouble.
We both sat there and ate our food in relative silence. It was the calm before the storm. Before Angie would descend on me and plaster me with makeup. I was interviewing some of the men from the Dallas fire department after the incredible save they’d made earlier this week. There had been a massive apartment complex that caught on fire because the electrical wiring wasn’t up to date, and I was using them and their stories to bring awareness to the fact that business moguls in the area needed to put the appropriate funds into their buildings in order to ensure they were brought up to code.
Thankfully, no one died in this fire, but that wasn’t always going to be guaranteed should there be another one. I felt the topic affected our area greatly, especially since the whole of downtown Dallas is nothing but studio apartments and apartment complexes.
The owners needed to invest in them. Otherwise, they’d lose their properties altogether.
And people would lose their lives.
Suddenly, my phone started to vibrate again. I silenced it without even looking down, knowing damn good and well who was calling.
“Everything all right?” Emma asked.
“Yeah. If they call again, I’ll have to take it, but I’m hoping they’ll get the gist and leave a voice message I can check after the show today.”
“Who is it?” she asked.
“My doctor’s office,” I said, lying.
“Sarah, are you okay?”
“I had that pain in my lower back checked out,” I said. “They told me they’d call if there was anything significant.”
“Then you need to answer that call,” she said.
And as if Mason could fucking hear us around the corner, he called again.
“Answer the fucking phone, Sarah. I know you hate doctors, but this is serious.”
“Fine. All right. I’ll be right back.”
I felt like shit for lying to my best friend. Pure, utter shit. But what the hell was I going to tell her? I could only brush her off for so long before she’d start getting suspicious. I had to throw her something, and she’d been bugging me about getting my back checked out for months. Honestly, I hadn’t had a problem with it the past few days.
And something in my gut told me to attribute it to the stress release Mason had been.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“Don’t hang up. Look, I’m on my way to your studio to talk with you. Just please, would you fucking let me in when I get there?”
“No. No. Mason, you have shit timing, but right now is, like, pathetically shit timing,” I said.
“I know you’ve got a show to do, but we really need to talk. Please, Sarah.”
“No,” I said.
“Then come over to my place tonight. I can pick you up and we can—”
“I said no, Mason. Get that through your head.”
I hung up the phone on him and turned it off before he had a chance to call me back. I took a deep breath and walked back into the room where Emma was anxiously waiting for me to get back.
“Well, what did the doctor say?” she asked.
“You’d think with how they called me, it would’ve been life-threatening,” I said. “Apparently, I’ve just got some deeply set knots that my regular massages won’t work to get out. They’re suggesting acupuncture or some shit.”
“They blew up your phone for that?” Emma asked.
“Apparently.”
“Sounds like they need to t
ake one of your muscle relaxers,” she said.
“No joke,” I said as I sat down beside her.
The truth was, I hadn’t taken one since my first date with Mason. Not a single one of them. My stress levels had been regulated, and my back wasn’t as tense. Physically, I felt better than I had in a very long time. But Mason was no longer an option, and as I sat next to Emma while we finished up our lunches, I studied her. I could see the familial resemblance, the same green eyes, the same stoic expression, the same long necks. Her skin was paler and her hair was much lighter than his, but when she looked over at me and smiled, my breath caught in my throat.
She had his smile, and something inside of me ached a little at that revelation.
“You okay?” Emma asked.
“Yeah. Fuck, these firemen I’m interviewing are hot,” I said.
“I don’t know how you do it some days. Really,” she said.
“Do you ever watch my show?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, have you ever seen it?”
Surely, if she watched the show, she had seen Mason on it. How could she watch my show, see that I’d interviewed him, and not told me that was her half-brother? Was it possible they’d never met? Even if they hadn’t, how could she at least not know that was him?
