The One Night Stand

by Elizabeth Hayley

  Her head swiveled around the space, taking everything in. Gabe joined her, reminding himself how great he’d thought this place was when he first saw it. How great it still was, even though he’d ruined it.

  After a few minutes, she turned back to him. “It’s beautiful.”

  He felt an eyebrow quirk at that. As if her compliments about the place she was going to destroy with a few taps to a keyboard meant shit now.

  She looked abashed, and her eyes darted away from his as she turned her back to him. “I’m sorry,” she croaked.

  He pondered that for a moment. “For which part?”

  Turning back to him, her eyes found his. “All of it.”

  He leaned back against the bar and folded his arms across his chest. “So, now you’ve seen it. Want to interview me about it? Maybe have me give you a list of members so I can completely destroy every shred of credibility I have?”

  “I wasn’t going to come in, Gabe. I swear.”

  Gabe couldn’t help the harsh laugh that left his throat. “You swear? Are you for real right now? You think you ‘swearing’ means anything to me? You’ve done nothing but lie since the Super Bowl.”

  “That isn’t true. It wasn’t all a lie.”

  “Do you hear yourself? It wasn’t all a lie? None of it should’ve been a lie.” He straightened and his voice was getting louder with every sentence he spoke despite his trying his best to keep his cool.

  “I know. You’re right. You’re so right. But I need you to understand that the story was completely separate from everything else. From how I felt—”

  “Goddamn it, I was the story,” he yelled as he slammed his hand down on the bar top. She jumped slightly, and he felt a twinge of remorse for startling her until he remembered that he was the one who’d been betrayed. “The two were never separate. How could they be?”

  “Because I didn’t know. I didn’t know you owned the club.”

  Gabe scoffed.

  “It’s true,” Rachel argued. “Running into you when I got here was a total coincidence. I had no idea you were involved until I saw the bank statement at your house.”

  Gabe looked down at the floor and shook his head. This was the type of conversation that could go around in circles for hours. And while Gabe had once thought he’d want to do nothing more than spend hours talking with Rachel, now he was just… tired. Tired of arguing, tired of trying to figure out what the truth was, tired of hurting. It was all too much. “I can’t do this.”

  Rachel’s eyes found his, and their red rims showed how sorry she was. Or did they? Maybe it was time Gabe realized that he didn’t know her at all. This woman in front of him was a stranger—a stranger he needed to be done with.

  “I’m so sorry, Gabe.”

  “I can believe that,” he said on a sigh. “But it doesn’t change anything.” Gesturing toward the exit, Gabe told her, “I think it’s time you left.”

  Rachel opened her mouth to reply and then seemed to think better of it. She nodded once and walked to the doors. Still facing them, she said, “For what it’s worth, knowing you has been the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. Goodbye, Gabe.” She pushed the doors open and was gone before he could reply. Not that he would’ve.

  But now, alone in his club with no one to hear but the immortalizations of former players on the walls, he said the last words he’d ever say to her. “Bye, Rachel.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “This is the saddest sight I’ve ever seen.”

  Gabe lifted his head to see who had spoken, even though he already knew the voice. “Hey,” he said to Jace. Gabe went back to polishing the bar top. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Jace pulled out a bar stool and sat down. “What? I can’t just stop by and see my best friend?”

  Gabe looked up long enough to shoot him a skeptical look.

  “Okay, fine,” Jace said. “I talked to Ben,” he added softly. “Why didn’t you tell me about Rachel?”

  Gabe cleared his throat. “I only felt like telling the story once.” And wasn’t that the damn truth. Gabe had needed to vent to someone—expel the whole story as if it were poison in his body. But once it was out there, all he’d felt was empty. He hadn’t wanted to speak of it since.

  “I’m not trying to get all emo teenager on you, but why’d you tell Ben and not me? He’s not even here to help you out.”

  Gabe inhaled deeply and set his rag down before dropping his forearms onto the bar. “I think that’s why I chose him. I wanted to tell someone, but I didn’t want to have to look that person in the face afterward.”

  Gabe dipped his head, but Jace lowered his own to catch Gabe’s eyes. “Why?”

  Gabe scoffed. “What the fuck do you mean ‘why’?” Why would I? I got played by a reporter. That shit is embarrassing.”

  “I’m your boy. You should never be embarrassed to tell me anything.”

  “Don’t give me that Dr. Phil bullshit. If I’m embarrassed, I’m embarrassed. There’s no changing how I feel.”

  “Come on. You’ve seen both me and Ben fuck up relationships. This is no different.”

  “It’s completely different,” Gabe yelled.

  “How?”

  “Because you fucked those up. You and Ben brought all that shit on yourselves. All I did was love some girl who couldn’t give a fuck less about me. There’s no mistake for me to fix. No apologies to give. I can’t make this right because I didn’t screw it up in the first place.”

  Jace sat back, watching Gabe. Whether it was because he didn’t know what to say or figured Gabe had more words in him, Gabe wasn’t sure.

  Looking around, Gabe have a humorless laugh. “You know I thought this place was going to make everything better. I was losing baseball whether I wanted to or not. My body just couldn’t hack it anymore. And I kept wondering what I was going to do with myself afterward. I convinced myself that I was ready to leave the game. That it was my choice to be done. But it wasn’t. My body decided it for me.”

  Jace sighed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “Tell you what? That I was scared to death?” Gabe shook his head. “You know that’s not me, Jace. I’m the life of the party, not the wimp who’s afraid of life after baseball because he never envisioned a life after baseball.”

  “There’s no role you have to fill here. We’re not your fans. You don’t need to portray a character for us. We’re your best friends.”

  Gabe knew that. He did. But it didn’t change anything for him. He’d spent most of his life putting on a face to hide his true feelings. While Ben and Jace knew him better than anyone else, there was always something that stopped Gabe from going all in. From opening all the way up so they could see the deepest parts of him. The only person he’d ever been that honest with was Rachel, and look where that had gotten him. But as he looked at Jace, he knew he could tell the man anything. Jace would never think less of him. It was time Gabe trusted him. “I’m fucking lonely, man. I thought this place would fill in the empty cracks, but it didn’t. It only made them worse. And while a part of me loves this place, part of me hates it now too.”

  “What do you hate most about it?” Jace asked.

  Gabe took his time replying, wanting to give the most honest answer he could. “The drama. It’s like nightmare on top of nightmare sometimes. It’s not even the time I have to dedicate to it, because that kind of ebbs and flows. But, Christ, it’s been one headache after another ever since I took over.”

  “What do you love most about it?” Jace asked next as he leaned forward in his seat.

  Taking a deep breath, Gabe said, “It gives me roots. My mom sent me from Puerto Rico so I could have a future, and professional baseball traded me all over the league. But this place is my responsibility. It makes me feel tied to a place for the first time in a long time.”

  “You wanna know what I think?”

  “Not really,” Gabe replied, which set them both off laughing. Which was a relief. Gab
e desperately needed to feel a little more like himself.

  “I think the drama will fade. It’s growing pains. You’ll get used to operating this place, and it’ll all become second nature to you. The roots, they’re forever. They’re worth hanging in there for.” Jace let his eyes roam around the club for a minute before continuing. “There’s a lot of life in this place, a lot of good times. But there are a lot of secrets too. You’ll need to be prepared for how hard it’ll be to have a personal life and still run this place.”

  Gabe smiled, but it was sad. “Guess I don’t have to worry about that now, do I?”

  Jace looked at him sympathetically as he rubbed a hand over his head. “What do you think she’ll do?”

  “I think she’ll write her story. It’s what she came here to do, and there’s nothing stopping her from it.”

  Jace looked doubtful at Gabe’s words.

  “What?” Gabe asked.

  “I just… I don’t know. I guess I think there’s more stopping her than you think.”

  “Is this where we hold hands and you promise me her love was real?”

  “Well, I mean, I’d rather not hold your hand,” Jace joked.

  Gabe laughed but sobered quickly. “There’s not a whole lot I can do about it either way. Either she writes it and destroys the club, or she doesn’t. But I have to worry that she will for the rest of my life. There’s not exactly a winning situation here.”

  “And you and her are…?”

  “Done. There’s no way someone who could manipulate me like that has any genuine feelings for me. At least none that I’d ever be able to trust.”

  Jace nodded. “I get that.” He was silent a moment longer before he rubbed his hand over the half-polished bar top. “You want help with this bar? At the rate you’re going, it’ll never get cleaned.”

  Gabe threw a rag at him. “It would’ve if some asshole hadn’t come to distract me.”

  And the two spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the mess that was Gabe’s bar and his life.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Rachel stared out the window at the bustling city below. She couldn’t even have told anyone what she was thinking about. She was simply letting the city—and all that had happened there—wash through her. It was a polarizing experience, with such incredible highs and drastic lows. But she knew that anytime she came back to Philadelphia, the predominant feelings would be overwhelming regret and unutterable sadness.

  “How is it possible that you have even more shit now than when you left New York?” Kellan asked as he walked back into her apartment after taking some boxes down to the small moving van she’d rented.

  She shrugged, not able to put into words how she actually felt like she was leaving Philly with nothing. Yes, she had the story she went there for, but the sacrifice outweighed its value.

  Kellan walked over and grabbed her shoulders so he could turn her to face him. “I need you to stop acting like a pod person. It’s freaking me the hell out, and I’m not interested in sharing my apartment with an alien.”

  “It’s my apartment.”

  “There she is,” he replied with a smile, though he quickly let it drop. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see. Once we get you home, and you get back into your routine, you’ll forget all about what’s-his-name.”

  “Gabe,” she answered.

  Kellan rolled his eyes. “I knew his name. I was trying to make a joke.”

  She stared back at him blankly, letting him know the joke had missed its mark. “I hurt him. Really badly,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “And I can’t fix it. Because even if I don’t write the story, he’ll never forgive me anyway. So not writing it will be a waste of everything I sacrificed.”

  “You trying to convince me or yourself?” he asked.

  She shrugged him off. “What am I supposed to do? Seriously, I need you to tell me what to do.”

  He leaned his hip against the wall. “You know what to do.”

  “Stop being all Yoda-esque. I need advice. I don’t know what to do.” Her voice cracked at the end of her sentence, and tears began to fall.

  Wrapping his arms around her, Kellan pulled her close. “You do know what to do. You’ve probably known for weeks. You just haven’t wanted to do it.”

  She burrowed her head into his chest before the need to breathe forced her to turn her head. “I don’t want to ruin my career. I worked so hard for it.”

  “Just like Gabe worked hard for his?”

  Rachel pulled back quickly. “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, Rach. You’re a smart girl. This was always going to destroy someone. Yeah, it’s really bad fucking karma that it happened to be the guy you liked, but you were always going to hurt somebody. You were always going to end someone’s livelihood. The only one you’ve tried to protect all this time was yourself.”

  “That’s not true,” she protested.

  “Of course it is. And I’m not judging you for it. I’m one of the most selfish people on the planet, so if that’s the road you want to walk down, I’ll hop in and we can carpool down that bitch. But don’t pretend like you never had a choice. You’ve been the only one with choices this entire time.”

  “But this story—”

  “Stop with the story, Rachel. This isn’t about a story. It’s about your life, and what you can live with and what you can’t.”

  She looked back out the window, and let Kellan’s words sink in. This was about her life. What she’d dedicated herself too. The goals she’d set. The priorities she held.

  Looking back at Kellan, she whispered, “I’ve got to write the story.”

  “Then let’s get you home so you can get started.”

  ***

  A week later, Rachel stood in Rick’s office as he read over the piece she’d written. When he finished, he set his glasses down, interlaced his fingers as he rested them on his belly, and looked up at her. “You’re sure you want to go ahead with this?”

  Rachel had needed to give him at least a vague rundown about what had led her to this story. If there was any backlash about any unethical behavior on her part, she wanted the magazine to be prepared to handle it. Not that she thought Gabe would make a complaint against her. Maybe it was more that it felt like a confession. No absolution could be granted, but there was still peace in the telling. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

  “Okay. You got it in just in time for it to go in the June publication.”

  Rachel nodded.

  Rick shuffled some things around on his desk. “Your request for leave was granted. Any idea when you’ll be ready to come back?”

  “I figured I’d see how the story was received and evaluate my options then.”

  Rick took a deep breath. “Well, we’ll miss you around here.”

  Rachel laughed. “I haven’t stepped foot in this office in months. It’ll be business as usual for you guys.”

  Rick returned her smile. “I guess that’s true. In that case, get the hell out of here. The rest of us have work to do.”

  Rolling her eyes with a chuckle, Rachel extended her hand. “Thank you, Rick. For everything.”

  Rick stood and grasped her hand. “My pleasure. I hope the next couple of months lead you to wherever you need to be.”

  “Me too.” She gave his hand one final shake before leaving his office. She looked around at all the chaos in the room: the bustling of reporters, the ringing of phones, the streaming of press conferences. She knew she’d miss it over the following months, but she also knew this time was important to her for a number of reasons.

  The story about Gabe’s club had taken a lot out of her, both in the investigating and in the actual writing. And what she’d put together could cause a fair bit of backlash. It was best that she give herself time to mentally and emotionally recover before she found herself thrust into whatever maelstrom this story may create.

  Rachel left the building, putting on her sunglasses as she stepped out into th
e bright May afternoon. The sunshine felt good as it warmed her face. She let herself bask in it for a moment before she got caught up in the throng of New Yorkers rushing from place to place.

  She found solace in the fact that she wouldn’t have to rush anything for a little while. For once, she’d stop being on the chase and let come what may.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Gabe popped behind the bar to check on the bartenders and see if they needed anything restocked. They said they were in good shape so Gabe turned to mingle, but before he got far, he heard a voice call out to him. He turned to see Manny walking toward him. The serious expression on his face caused Gabe to tense up. Manny tossed a magazine on top of the bar, and leaned over it.

  “Gabe, you seen this yet?”

  Gabe took a couple steps so that he was directly across the bar from Manny. “Seen what?”

  Flipping through the magazine, Manny said, “That girl you were talking to. Rachel? She wrote something I thought you might want to see.”

  Gabe’s entire body seized as panic filled him. She wrote it. It had been two months since he’d confronted Rachel at the club. Two months of replaying their time together, of analyzing every word and action, of driving himself insane because no matter how many times he tried to convince himself their relationship had all been a ruse, it sure as hell felt real.

  It had also been enough time that he’d begun to believe that she wouldn’t publish the story. That she wouldn’t completely betray him. But he should’ve known better than to let himself hope for anything where she was concerned.

  Manny turned the magazine around so Gabe could read it. He had to will himself to look down at the glossy pages. When he did, his eyes narrowed as soon as they rested on the title. Pulling the magazine closer to him, Gabe said, “Rachel wrote this?”