Forward Progress (Men of Fall Book 1)

by S. R. Grey

  I wonder what that could be.

  “That’ll make our agreement binding and official,” he goes on. “Then your first payment can be deposited into your checking account.”

  “Okay, sure.”

  I readjust the phone to my ear.

  Shit, I need that money. I don’t have enough cash to buy gas to drive my brother up to Mansfield to his new school.

  “When and where should we meet?” I ask. “The sooner the better.”

  “Getting cold feet, Miss Vetterly? Afraid if you don’t sign soon, you’ll back out?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that.”

  “Good, good. Still, how about if we meet tonight?”

  “That works for me.”

  “Excellent. I’m down at the training facility right now. I’ll be here for a few more hours. Do you know where that’s located?”

  “Yes,” I reply. “It’s not far from me at all.”

  “Perfect.”

  He gives me instructions on where to park and which door to go in to access the area where the administrative offices are located.

  It hits me then that this is really happening. And despite my earlier excitement, I start to feel ill.

  Swallowing hard, I ask, “Is Graham going to be there tonight?”

  “No.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief.

  I don’t think I’m ready to meet him just yet.

  I’m all nerves and hammering heart when Jock says, “We’ll arrange a meet up with you two real soon. We need to coach you both on the made-up backstory we plan to present to the press and the public.”

  Oh my God, a backstory and everything.

  Can I do this?

  I have to. So Paul can have a good life, the life he deserves. People like us don’t usually get a happily-ever-after, and that’s fine—for me. But if anyone deserves a decent future, it’s my brother.

  I remind myself that it won’t be bad. It’s not like Graham is gross. I can surely walk around with him arm in arm.

  Hell, I may even give him a peck on the cheek—for the cameras, of course—now and again.

  Yes, I can do this!

  I’m pumped as I wrap up with Jock.

  Before leaving the apartment, I touch up my makeup and leave a note for Paul that I had to run out to do something.

  When I arrive at the training facility, I go in through the door I was told to and walk down the hall. I find Jock’s office and knock on the open door.

  Looking up from where he’s poring over papers on his desk, he beckons me in.

  After we exchange pleasantries, I sit down across from him, and he hands me the contract.

  “Wait.” I hold up my hand as I skim through the terms, pausing on one in particular.

  This must be that additional condition he mentioned.

  Clearing my throat, I tap the contract. “What’s this clause about Graham and me living together in the same house? I have my own apartment, so that won’t be necessary.”

  “Uh, actually it will be necessary, Miss Vetterly,” Jock replies. “You may keep your apartment, if you’d like. We can spin a tale that it holds nostalgic memories for you or whatever. As I mentioned, we have a whole sweet backstory cooked up, detailing how you and Graham met and fell in love back in May when he was in town.”

  “Oh, Lord.” I gulp.

  “We’ll also put it out there that you guys kept things quiet in the beginning, but you’re now ready to come clean. Mostly because your relationship has moved to the next level—aka you’re moving in together.”

  He stresses those words, letting them hang in the air, before he adds, “So, as you can see, there’s no way around it. You and my client must reside in the same house for everything to appear believable.”

  “Wow, this is really overwhelming,” I murmur.

  “It shouldn’t be. It’s only temporary, Miss Vetterly. We’ve gotten everything ready, so all you have to do is pack your bags.”

  I snort. “Let me guess, this means you and the team already picked out a place for us to live?”

  “We have indeed,” Jock confirms. “And you won’t be disappointed. The house is a beautiful brick colonial over in New Albany. It’s located on a two-acre tract of land. Very private, so there shouldn’t be any nosy neighbors snooping around. We don’t need questions and prying eyes, right?”

  “Right,” I murmur dejectedly as I feel my free will slipping away.

  Moving in with Graham?

  Sure, he’s hot and all, but I don’t know about sharing space with him.

  Jock is still singing the praises of the new house when I tune back in. “The home is rather large, over four thousand square feet. You and Graham can easily maintain separate living quarters if that’s what you’re most comfortable with.”

  So much for me fretting about my new lonely life in the apartment.

  “Okay,” I say, breathing in and out slowly to calm my nerves. “I’ll move into the house.”

  “Excellent, so—”

  “Wait,” I interrupt, holding up my hand. “I have one condition of my own, Jock.”

  “Oh, you do, do you? And what would that be, Miss Vetterly?”

  I think about it and amend, “Actually, I have two. One you’ve already heard.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, first, like I mentioned before, I’d like to keep working at the diner.”

  He looks like he’s about to say no, so I hurriedly add, “It would look really suspicious if I left completely. Brad, my manager, would ask all sorts of questions. Plus, I kind of like the idea of holding onto a little bit of my current life.”

  Jock blows out a breath. “Okay, okay. The team actually cleared that one. But your first priority must be Graham.”

  “Of course,” I reply.

  “Good. So what’s your next condition, Eden?”

  “I want to tell my brother the truth about this arrangement. And before you tell me I can’t, just know that he’s super discreet and would never say a word to anyone.”

  Jock balks a little on that one. “I don’t know. I’m going to have to get clearance from the team on that, for sure. There’s only so much I alone can approve.”

  I nod. “I accept that. But please, please check and get back to me soon.”

  “I will,” he says.

  Ugh, I feel like I’m being sucked into something so much bigger than myself.

  There’s something else worrying me too.

  “Can I ask a question?” I say.

  “Sure.”

  “There’s no sex in this agreement, right? I don’t have to sleep with your client, correct? As gorgeous as Graham is, I don’t think I could hop into bed with him on demand.”

  Jock looks at me over his reading glasses and laughs. “No, there’s no requirement for you to sleep with my client. As I told you before, there are many bedrooms inside the house.”

  “Oh, okay. Good. I’m glad there’s no sex required.”

  “Not in a fake relationship, no,” Jock confirms.

  “Phew.” I pretend to swipe my brow.

  I don’t tell Jock I wouldn’t be entirely opposed if something more than “fake” developed between me and Graham.

  No, I keep that all to myself.

  Tying Up Loose Ends

  With the contract signed, the Comets announce that I’m their new starting quarterback. A day later, I fly to Las Vegas to tie up loose ends before training camp starts.

  I decide not to sell my current home out there, as my contract is only for one year. What I do instead is speak with a realtor about renting the place out.

  I also meet up with Dylan and Chloe at a local restaurant so I can turn the gym over to them to run while I’m away. They’re cool with that, but the fact I’m leaving is hitting Chloe hard.

  At dinner, she barely eats a thing.

  When I ask her what’s wrong, she tells me she’s sad because I’ll miss the baby’s birth this fall.

  It is hard, seeing as she an
d I have grown closer than ever over the past year. My sister went through a really tough time not too long ago when her ex-husband was stalking her.

  In regard to the baby, I assure her, “Hey, don’t be upset. I’ll come back a lot once the season ends. And I’ll definitely fly in as soon as I can to meet my new niece once she’s born.”

  Placated, she, Dylan, and I turn the conversation to talk of the upcoming football and hockey seasons.

  I’m not the only one with something to prove this year. Dylan hopes to post a career season. But more than that, he wants the Wolves to make another run at the Stanley Cup.

  I tell him that I’m pulling for him and the team.

  “Thanks, man,” he says.

  After dinner, as we’re walking to our cars, Dylan pats me on the back and says, “Hey, good luck, Graham. You got this. Just remember this is what you’ve wanted for a long time.”

  “It is,” I agree. “It sure the hell is.”

  Chloe, choking back a sob, throws her arms around me. “I’m going to miss you so much, Graham.”

  “I know, Chlo. I’ll miss you like crazy too.”

  We can’t really hug properly since her growing belly keeps getting in the way. We share a good laugh about that.

  Chloe then tells me, “I love you, Graham. And Dylan’s right, you’ve been there for everyone else for so long. It’s time for you to concentrate on you.”

  She gives me a knowing look.

  I know what’s up. My sister would like to see me with a girlfriend, someone who cares about me. I don’t have the heart to tell her there’s one in the works, thanks to the team. Somehow, I don’t think a fake girlfriend is what she has in mind.

  But it is what it is. And I’ve decided to make the most of it. I’m excited that I finally get to meet this “girlfriend” once I’m back in Columbus.

  Hope it’s not too crazy awkward.

  Before I leave Las Vegas, I have one more thing to do—I need to meet with Benny to give him the names of some new potential sponsors.

  I do that later the same evening when we meet up for a late coffee.

  Benny Perry is big like me. He has dark blond hair too, but whereas mine is not that long, his flows down past his shoulders. The dude looks like freaking Thor, no joke. Everyone tells him that.

  One thing for sure, we receive a hell of a lot of stares when we walk into the coffee shop together after meeting up outside.

  A kid comes up to us and asks Benny for an autograph.

  As my friend signs the napkin he’s handed, the kid turns to me.

  “Do you play hockey too?” he asks.

  “No.” I laugh. “I’m actually a football player.”

  His big brown eyes widen. “No way. That’s cool. Who do you play for?”

  I tell him I just signed with the Columbus Comets, fully expecting him to be all like who the heck are they?

  But to my surprise, he’s aware of the team and the new league.

  “Wow,” he marvels. “Can you sign something for me too?”

  That makes me feel so fucking good. Maybe this league really is up and coming. Maybe Jock wasn’t just telling me what I wanted to hear.

  “Sure,” I say to the kid, and he hands me a fresh napkin.

  Once the boy has both our signatures, he skips off, calling back a really cute, heartfelt, “Thanks, guys.”

  Benny, noticing I’m grinning like a fool, nudges me. “Hey, you better get used to this, dude. It’s just the beginning.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I reply, smiling and feeling pretty fucking genuinely happy.

  After we order our coffees and sit down in two oversized chairs near the front of the shop, I keep thinking how I wish I could tell Benny about the fake girlfriend clause.

  That’s not allowed, though.

  Aw, fuck it.

  This is my friend, and he won’t say anything to anyone.

  So I begin with, “Hey, can I share something with you?”

  “Yeah, sure, dude. Of course.”

  Releasing a breath, I say, “This new opportunity isn’t all sunshine and roses.”

  Benny looks confused. “How do you mean?”

  “The Comets have given me a contract, yes. But there’s something I had to agree to before it was all finalized.”

  “Uh, what did you have to agree to?”

  Shaking my head, I preface, “You’re never going to believe this.”

  “Try me, man.”

  I go on to tell him about the fake girlfriend clause and how I’m supposed to live with the chick.

  “Dude, that’s fucking nuts,” he exclaims once I’m done. “I could never see the Wolves asking a player they signed to do something like that.”

  “Yeah, well, football’s clearly different.”

  He leans back in his chair and runs his hand over the top of his head, mussing up his long hair. “Man, you’re not kidding.”

  “Christ.” I set my cup down on a nearby table and sigh. “I just hope she’s not crazy or anything.”

  “You mean you haven’t even met her yet?”

  “Nope, that’s supposed to happen as soon as I get back tomorrow.”

  Benny scoffs, “Shit, you’d think you’d at least have had approval or something.”

  “You’d think so, right? But no, it’s all on the strict down low. I guess that’s why I’m still in the dark.”

  Benny then brings up a point I hadn’t even considered.

  “I get why you had to agree to this, Graham—to play football and get a contract and all that. But what’s in it for her?”

  I shrug. “Lots of money, I’m guessing.”

  “Eh, I don’t know. I mean, I’m sure you’re right. They’re probably paying her a shit ton of cash. But still, who’d agree to something like that?”

  “Someone desperate?” I venture.

  “Ha, I’d say so.”

  “Hell, man,” I curse. “Now I’m more curious than ever to know what this girl’s story is.”

  And I am.

  From here on out, I’m focusing on one thing and one thing only—to learn my fake girlfriend’s real truth.

  The Waiting Game

  I drive Paul up to his new school on Sunday.

  In front of his dorm, as I’m helping him take in boxes, some kids approach us.

  From their friendliness and questions, it’s clear they’re just curious to learn about their new classmate. That makes sense, as my brother’s the new kid at school.

  The kids, two boys and one girl, ask where Paul’s from and what brought him to this particular school. My brother is pretty honest with them and there’s no judgment on their parts.

  Still, when we all head back to the car to grab more boxes, I can’t help but worry the kids will take one look at my crappy old Saturn and think bad things.

  But, to my delight, no one gives my rust bucket a second glance. Everyone is truly genuinely nice, which is amazing. A positive environment like this is going to be so good for Paul.

  And I guess he thinks so too. He sure seems comfortable enough. Not only is he laughing and joking with the kids, but he soon tells me I can go ahead and take off.

  “Are you sure?” I ask, raising a brow to make sure he’s truly cool with me leaving.

  “Yes, absolutely.” He laughs. “Jeez, you’re so overprotective, Eden.”

  “That’s my job,” I remind him.

  “What are you going to do down there in Columbus without me to worry about it?”

  Since I’m still awaiting word on whether I can tell Paul what’s up or not with the fake girlfriend “job,” I cryptically reply, “Oh, I’m sure I’ll have lots of things to keep me busy.”

  “That’s right.” He nods thoughtfully. “You have that new modeling job.”

  “Yep.”

  If only he knew the “new modeling job” will be occupying a ton of my time. But alas, I’m the one who signed the contract. I have to live with the consequences.

  Damn it, I really wa
nt to tell Paul the truth right now. I can’t wait that much longer. It’s just not like us to keep secrets from one another.

  I guess I look a little off, since Paul cocks his head and asks, “Hey, are you okay?”

  I conjure up a quick smile. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  One of the kids helping Paul calls out from the entrance to the dorm, and Paul says, “Hey, I better go see what’s up.”

  I nod. “Go, go, but not without a hug first.”

  “Oh, all right.”

  Paul pretends to be put off, but with the way he holds onto me tightly when we hug, I have no doubt he’s missing me already.

  “Love you,” I murmur.

  “Love you too,” he replies.

  And then I’m off, crying the whole way down to Columbus.

  I’m supposed to drive straight over to the house in New Albany, to see the place and meet my new “boyfriend.” But after all this crying, my makeup is a wreck. So I decide to stop in at the apartment to freshen up.

  My suitcase is packed and ready to go. I guess tonight will be my last night sleeping at my place, at least for a while. I’m supposed to officially move in to the New Albany house tomorrow.

  I am indeed keeping this apartment. Not for any “nostalgic” reasons, like Jock framed it. I just want a place to retreat to from time to time, to get away from it all. Plus, when this is all over, I can move back in until I find a bigger, nicer home.

  Maybe I’ll consider buying a house, but nothing too crazy large—$500K or not, I’m not losing me.

  Feeling pretty good about myself, I dab powder on my nose to cover the spattering of freckles across the bridge, then I re-curl my eyelashes so my green eyes really pop.

  Finally, I apply a fresh coat of gloss to my full lips.

  I consider pulling my hair up into a ponytail, but opt instead to leave it down. I change out leggings for a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans and lose the jacket so I can show off the cute long-sleeved white crop top I’m wearing.

  My outfit is nice, but not overdone like I’m trying too hard.

  When I reach the house—which is pretty impressive—Jock is standing out in the driveway.

  Based on the fact that only his Ferrari, and now my beat-up Saturn, is parked out in front, I conclude Graham’s not yet arrived.