“Of course! I mean, yes! I’m happy. I never thought I’d get the job. Working for Angel Investments would be a dream. It would be a huge step up in my career. It’s just…”
“It’s just that the job is in Boston?
My eyebrows draw together and I nod.
“And here I thought you loved me,” she laughs. Her eyes are misty. “I miss you, Farrah. And this is the opportunity of a lifetime! Victor was very impressed with your resume. He said you had just the experience they were looking for to expand into some construction projects. This is your dream job!”
“I know.” I nod. A lump has formed in my throat.
Rachael frowns. “Have you told Elijah about the job?”
I cringe.
“Farrah!”
“I didn’t think I’d get it!”
“Why not?! You’re super qualified and super smart, and you have glowing recommendations from basically everyone you’ve ever been in contact with. I thought you’d be happy!”
“I am! I am.” I take a deep breath. “Whoa.”
Rachael stares at me for a few seconds and then starts laughing. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes.
“Typical. So how are things with you and Elijah?”
I look away, sighing. I shrug.
“I don’t know. It seems like ever since we got engaged, he’s been really distant. I mean, I guess I have been too. I didn’t even tell him I applied for that job.”
“And being at his family’s cabin for a few days didn’t help?”
I snort. “If anything, it made it worse. As soon as we got back here, he was out the door again.”
“Do you still want to marry him?”
The question surprises me. I don’t know how to answer, so I don’t. I just shrug. Rachael sighs.
“You know, Farrah, I’ve known you a long time. It’s over ten years now since we started college.”
“Whoa, has it been that long?”
“We’re getting old,” she grins. “But I’ve known you a long time and I’m not sure if Elijah is the right guy for you. I haven’t said anything so far, because I didn’t want to be ‘that friend’ who shits on everything you do. But now…” she sighs. “I don’t know. You just seem so unhappy.”
“I’m not unhappy!”
Rachael looks at me, and I just laugh. “I’m not!”
“Look, Farrah. You’re smart, and ambitious, and successful. You have your own career and you’re going places! But you attach yourself to these men—football players—who just see you as arm candy.”
“I know I’ve dated a lot of football players, but…”
“Have you ever been with a guy who sees your goals as equally important as his?”
I look at my best friend through the screen and my eyebrows shoot up. That’s not something I’d ever considered. Rachael sighs and shakes her head. She opens her mouth and then closes it again, biting her lip. I look out the window at the frigid winter sky.
“I don’t see how my career goals come into this.”
“How many times has Elijah asked you what you want?”
Once again, I don’t know what to say. I want to defend Elijah. I love him! I’m marrying him! But these questions that Rachael is asking… I don’t have any answers. Or, rather, I don’t have any good answers.
Before I can stop myself, I think of Jesse. When he showed me how to chop wood, he asked me about my career. He asked me about my goals for myself. He seemed genuinely interested.
And I’d been shocked.
That’s not right, is it? Elijah should want that for me, too.
I shake my head. “Elijah isn’t bad.”
“Of course he’s not bad,” Rachael says. She sighs again, pinching the bridge of her nose. I can tell this conversation is difficult for her, but I can’t seem to admit to myself that she may be right.
“He’s very successful, and very ambitious. But sometimes, I feel like he just sort of… forgets about you.”
I chew my lip. I can’t meet her eye, because I know she’s right.
“I’m not saying call off your engagement or anything,” she continues. “I’m just saying that you should have a conversation with him. You should tell him about Boston.”
I sigh. “You know I can’t take the job.”
“What! Why not? It’s exactly what you’ve been working toward.”
“But how? Me in Boston, Elijah here? How’s that supposed to work?”
“Well, he’s a freaking NFL star, he can come live with you in the off-season. He can afford it. And he’s traveling for games all the time. You’re there on your own most of the time during the season anyway! How different would it be?! It’s only an hour flight. Surely he’d be able to make some sacrifices for you to reach your goals?”
That all sounds great in theory, but the thought of asking Elijah to do that for me seems unreasonable. We’ve talked about my career before, and he would prefer it if I didn’t work at all.
Rachael sighs.
“All I’m saying is think about it, Farrah. You won’t have to give them an answer for a few weeks. The start date isn’t until the beginning of February. Just… consider it.”
I nod. “I will.”
She looks at me with eyes full of concern, and then smiles.
“Don’t worry, Farrah. It’ll all work out. I wish I could hug you right now.”
“Me too.”
By the time Elijah comes home, I’m in bed. He jumps in the shower and then comes into bed, mumbling ‘goodnight’ and turning away from me.
I move closer and wrinkle my nose. He smells like stale beer. Did he go out drinking after watching the game tapes?
Was he watching game tapes at all?
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling as Elijah starts snoring. I squeeze my eyes shut as a tear slides down my face.
I need to get a grip. I have to either decide trust Elijah or confront him about all this.
Something needs to change.
10
Jesse
I watch the other NFL teams’ playoff games throughout the next couple weeks. The Giants—and Elijah—are playing really well.
But so are we.
By the time February rolls around, the schedule is set. It’s exactly what I wanted, and what I was scared of at the same time. Elijah and I will be facing off for the Super Bowl, and for the ultimate sibling bragging rights.
All week, my stomach is a bundle of nerves. This is my shot at a ring—at a championship. And the way my career is going, it might be my only shot. My father’s words are ringing in my ears, and I know that this year means everything.
But it’s more than that.
I want to beat Elijah.
Call me immature, but something in the pit of my stomach just wants to beat him so badly that he can’t look at me with that stupid smirk of his.
Yes, I want to be a champion. Yes, I want to lead my team to victory.
But deep down inside, I just want to beat my brother.
He’s always had it easy. He’s always gotten what he wanted and he’s never appreciated it. And now? Now is my chance to beat him.
And by beating him, my team would also secure the Patriots’ place in the history of the sport.
We fly in to New Jersey on our team’s private planes two days before the Super Bowl. The team bought two Boeing 767’s back in 2017, and it makes air travel nice and comfortable. Comfort doesn’t help to ease my nerves, though.
The morning of the Super Bowl, I get up early. My lucky underwear is clean and pressed in my suitcase, and I pull it on with a deep breath.
This is it.
I eat my usual game-day breakfast: a big bowl of oats with protein powder, three eggs, and a big cup of coffee. It’s enough food to get me through the morning and ready to warm up. I’ll eat again before the game, but for now it’s all about the ritual.
By the time I’m warming up with the team at the practice field, my nerves are starting to settle.
&nbs
p; We can do this.
We can win.
I won’t be washed up and alone, I’ll be a fucking champion.
When we get to the MetLife stadium, the buzz of game day is all around. We get off the bus and start filing toward the back entrance of the stadium. There are security guards all around, but a few clever fans have still found the back entrance and are lining up for autographs. A photographer snaps a picture of me when I step off the bus.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a small white Porsche park up. I glance over and my eyebrows twitch upwards as a beautiful, tall brunette gets out of the car. It’s not just any beautiful brunette—it’s Farrah. She grabs something from the back seat of her car and starts heading for the entrance.
I jog ahead and catch up to her.
“Farrah!” I call out as she shows her pass to the security guard. She turns to me and that gorgeous smile of hers brightens her face. I’m thrown off balance.
I come to a stop in front of her, nodding to the security guard as I lean down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Hi, Jesse,” she smiles. “I’m not sure I should be talking to you right now. Fraternizing with the enemy and all.”
“I think we can make an exception,” I grin. Jordan walks by and elbows me on his way past. I ignore him. “What are you doing back here?”
“Oh, Elijah forgot his lucky glove,” she says, holding up a plastic bag. “Doesn’t play without it.”
“Cute,” I grin, touching the waistband of my underwear. “Doesn’t the team have someone to handle the gear?” We start walking down the hallway side by side. Farrah laughs, glancing at me.
“He doesn’t trust them with this. It smells so bad that I have to keep it locked away in the bottom of a cupboard, but he still brings it home after every game.”
“The old glove smell,” I laugh. “I know it well. Makes your hands smell terrible.”
“You don’t have to tell me about that,” Farrah laugh, nudging my shoulder with hers. “One time I tried scrubbing his hands with nail polish remover and the smell still wouldn’t come out.”
I laugh, nodding to a security guard at a corner and we keep walking. I know my teammates are listening to every word I say, but I don’t really care.
“I’ve honestly tried everything to get the smell off his hands, but he won’t let me wash the gloves,” she laughs, holding the bag out in front of her. “It’s a problem.”
Farrah looks over at me and flashes me a smile. My legs go numb. How does she do that? She looks up at a sign, and then points to a nearby door.
“I think he said he was in here,” she says. “Good luck today. Even though I’m not supposed to say that.”
“Thanks,” I say. I want to keep talking to her, but she just nods to me and turns toward the door.
I’m only a couple feet away when I hear her voice again. It’s shrill, and shocked, and loud.
“What the fuck?!”
I turn to see her in the doorway. The plastic bag with Elijah’s glove is on the floor at her feet. I pause, watching her in the doorway. She’s holding the doorknob and her whole body is trembling. Her cheeks have gone red, and her eyes are blazing.
I take a step closer. My whole body is on edge.
“What the fuck is going on?! What are you doing in here with her?!”
My stomach drops.
Fucking Elijah.
I already know what’s going on in that room. It’s the same thing that always happens with Elijah. He just doesn’t know a good thing if it smacks him in the face. Maybe I should fucking smack him in the face. I take another step toward the door. I can almost feel the anger radiating off Farrah.
I want to go to her. The protective, alpha-male instinct in me rears up, and I feel like I could murder my brother.
Farrah leans down and picks up the bag with the lucky glove in it, hurling it through the doorway.
“There is your stupid glove. I hope you fucking lose today.” She turns and sees me, and her eyes are full of tears. Her mouth pinches together and she turns back to the room.
“Oh, and Carmen? Don’t get involved with him. If he cheated on me, he’ll cheat on you. He’s a fucking dirtbag. We’re done. By the time you come home tonight, I’ll have moved out. Goodbye, Elijah.”
She glances at me and takes a step closer to me. “You better win that fucking game, Jesse. Beat that son of a bitch brother of yours to a pulp.” Her eyes are blazing, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. She has tears in her eyes, but through them, I can see her strength.
“I will.”
She nods, then turns around and marches down the hallway. I watch her go and my heart flips. I don’t know if I’m happy she’s breaking up with my brother, or sad that she’s in pain. Elijah appears in the doorway, calling after her. He sees me and his face turns to a snarl.
“What the fuck are you looking at?”
A little blonde head appears behind him. One of their cheerleaders—typical. I just shake my head.
“Oh, fuck off, Jesse. Get ready to lose today,” Elijah spits.
“You’ve already lost, brother,” I say sadly. “She was the best thing to ever happen to you.”
“Fuck you.”
I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to see Jordan. He nods down the hallway, and I let him drag me away. Cold, black anger curls in my heart as I walk away from my brother. All I want to do is go after Farrah. The thought of her alone and hurting makes my stomach turn.
But I can’t. I’m here to play a game, not to deal with my brother’s failed relationships.
The only thing I can do now is to win. I’ll win for Farrah, so at least she can watch that cheating scumbag lose the most important game of his life.
The stakes just got a hell of a lot higher.
11
Farrah
It’s hard to pack my things when my eyes keep blurring with tears. I called Rachael halfway through my mess of packing and as soon as she picks up, I dissolve into a sniffling, sobbing mess.
“Come on,” she says. “You can do this. God, I wish I were there. You sure about this?”
“I walked in on him with that cheerleader,” I cry. “I can’t be with him. I don’t care who he is, I won’t be cheated on.” Moose nips at my feet and looks up at me with big, sad eyes. I scratch his ears, but he still stares at me.
“Good.” Rachael says. “Get your shit and get out of there. I never liked him anyway.”
I sob again and Rachael makes a cooing noise over the phone. “Come on,” she says gently.
It doesn’t take very long to pack my things. Most of my stuff is in storage, anyway. When I moved in to Elijah’s place, I left most of my things behind. It’s basically just clothes, toiletries, and a few books. Somehow, it still fills two suitcases and a box.
“Oh!” I say as I open the front door. I run to the kitchen and grab my cast iron pan. “I’m not letting him have this,” I mumble to myself. My well-seasoned, heavy cast-iron pan might as well be made of gold. He wouldn’t know what to do with it. I put Moose into his dog carrier and take one last look at the big house that never felt like home. Then, I walk out.
I check in to a hotel near my office and stare at my suitcases. I can’t believe it’s over. I spent so much time convincing myself that Elijah was the one that now I feel completely empty. I feel numb.
Moose knows something’s wrong. He nuzzles into my armpit and doesn’t leave my side.
My phone rings and I see Rachael’s name pop up. I consider not answering, but the thought of hearing my best friend’s voice might be exactly what I need right now.
“Hey.”
“You all checked in?”
“Yeah.”
“Man, I wish I was there with you. I’d punch that bastard in the mouth.”
I chuckle bitterly. “I wish you were here too.”
“You want to talk about it?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. The pillow smells like detergent and it makes my noise sting. �
��What is there to talk about? I walked in on him making out with another woman. His hand was up her skirt! She was the one who sent him the picture when I was at his parents’ cabin. I knew something was going on, but like a fool, I ignored it. It’s different to see it with my own eyes.”
“And his brother was there, too?”
“Yep. He saw me crying like an idiot and run out of the stadium. It’s so embarrassing.”
“It’s not embarrassing, it’s normal,” Rach sighs. “Well, at least you don’t have to think twice about accepting the job in Boston.”
My heart squeezes. “That’s true. You think they still want me? I’ve been putting them off for two weeks now.”
“Victor asked me about you yesterday, Farrah,” Rachael laughs. “He still wants you here. Didn’t you schedule a meeting with him for tomorrow?”
“A phone call, yeah. I’m supposed to give him my final decision.” I shake my head. Heat flares through my chest and I sit up straight in bed. “Oh my God, Rachael, you don’t understand how mad I am right now. I wish he felt like I feel right now. Maybe then he’d think twice.”
“I know, Farrah.”
“I should just go and sleep with his brother for the sake of it. Hate-fuck him. Get it all out of my system.”
I can hear the grin in Rachael’s voice when she answers. “That’s not a terrible idea, but I can think of one or two downsides.”
“I’m not going to do it, but I just… ugh. I just want Elijah to feel as bad as I do right now.”
“It’ll get better. Just focus on you.”
I take a deep breath. “I wish I could hug you right now, Rach.”
“Me too. You’ll hug me soon when you move to Boston and finally accept your freaking dream job.”
A smile twitches on my lips—the first genuine smile I’ve had all day. I nod, even though Rachael can’t see it. “Yeah. True.”
When we hang up, I lay down on the bed and pinch the bridge of my nose. I never thought I’d be here. I never thought I’d be alone again. I thought I had a fairy tale ending in the making.
Mr. Right: The Complete Fake Engagement Series Page 23
