by Gina Drayer
The class was an hour long.
Sighing, I got up and tried the pose again. Fucking Manny should be here, too. This was his stupid plan. Just the thought of the big-bellied publicist posing in spandex shorts alongside me had me laugh out loud.
A blonde woman in pigtails turned around and gave me the stink eye. She was balancing on one leg perfectly as if her body was made of pipe cleaners.
For the first time in a long time, I had no desire to flirt with a woman. I wanted to tell her to turn the fuck around and mind her own business.
The instructor kept telling me to breathe and relax—find a quiet place in my mind. Yeah, right. I didn’t feel very zen while falling on my ass and flailing like a toddler.
“Good,” the yoga instructor said, and ran her hand down my spine. “See if you can move a little deeper into the bend, then we’ll extend the leg into utthita hasta padangusthasana.”
She moved to the next row, and I turned to Kevin.
“Please tell me that padang-stuff is a move we get to do laying down.” I watched as Kevin eased his leg out in front of him, balancing on his heel without even a hint of a wobble. He reached down and grabbed his toes in one graceful move.
I had to give the big man props. Maybe there was something to all this yoga shit.
Kevin lost his fucking mind during his divorce. Especially, after his ex-wife had started going out with other men. He flipped out and punched his ex’s date, breaking his nose. It had been all over the news because of one, unfortunately, well-timed photograph.
Even after that very public split, Kevin managed to hold on to his good name. Maybe he worked with Naomi last year? It would explain the yoga.
I could almost hear the elegant woman putting the six foot, two hundred and fifty-pound first baseman in his place. The thought made me laugh again. Two more women turned back and gave me dirty looks. I was definitely not winning any fans today.
Near the end of class, we stretched out into something the instructor called corpse pose. An appropriate name because I felt like I was dying. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The photo from the paper of Emily in that gold dress popped into my mind. I took another breath and remembered the feel of her lips, the needy noise from the back of her throat.
I still couldn’t believe she’d let me kiss her, and even more so that she had kissed me back.
“Namaste. May you carry this feeling of relaxation with you throughout the day,” the yoga instructor said.
I was on my feet before she finished, ready to leave this ridiculous place.
“Just keep coming,” Kevin said as he started packing up. “You’ll get the hang of it in no time.”
Like I have a choice.
I couldn’t say that to my friend because I couldn’t explain myself without divulging the mess with my contract negotiations. So I just sighed and nodded. “I’ll be here next week. That is unless I hire a private instructor.”
“Speaking of throwing your money away,” Kevin said, a smile passing over his face. “What was up with that two hundred grand you dropped last night at the auction? That chick was hot, but not that hot. Since when do you need help getting a date?”
I sucked on my teeth, itching to tell somebody. Instead, I shrugged and tried to play it off. Manny should have listened to me. My friends were going to see through this plan.
“The money wasn’t for a date. It was a donation to a homeless shelter. When I heard about all the good work she was doing for families, it really struck a chord. When I was a kid, my mom had to work two jobs just to pay the bills. We were always just one disaster away from losing our house. She was sick with the flu once, and our electricity was shut off. I know how hard it can be for families. I just wanted to give back.”
The girl behind the desk awed and placed a hand over her heart. I’ve told my story so many times during interviews and press releases that it didn’t feel personal anymore.
Kevin shook his head and laughed. “And, of course, you couldn’t let Ben steal her from you.”
“Yeah, I couldn’t let that happen either.” I rubbed the back of my neck. Most of the guys knew my history with Ben, but when Kevin said it aloud, it sounded so petty.
With a laugh, Kevin slapped my back. “One of these days, that little rivalry of yours is going to cost you more than money.”
12
Emily
I stared at the computer screen, unblinking, afraid that if I closed my eyes, it would disappear.
Two hundred thousand dollars. That money almost tripled my own contribution from the trust, and now I had more than enough to make a sizable down payment on the building I wanted. A bigger building with more rooms; more rooms for more families.
It felt like a dream. I set down my coffee mug and rubbed my eyes.
Sure the whole plan was crazy, and yes, it felt wrong on some levels. But as I stared at the bank balance, it felt like somebody had finally lifted a giant boulder off of my chest; like I could finally breathe for the first time in years.
That feeling was worth the lies and the hassle of having to deal with Cooper Reynolds. I could handle a month or two of dealing with that arrogant prick. As long as I kept my guard up and didn’t let him kiss me like that again.
Luckily, that was a problem for another day. Right now, it was time to celebrate. I pulled out my phone, pulled up my happy playlist, and danced around the room, enjoying the moment. I kicked off my flats and twirled around with my arms in the air as Spice Up Your Life played from the tinny speakers of my phone.
It had been such a long time since I just danced and it felt good.
When I was young, my father used to turn up music on our stereo in the living room and swoop me up into his arms whenever he got good news. My mother would join us, kicking off her shoes, and together, we’d have an impromptu dance party.
Today deserved an impromptu dance party.
After the song ended, I slipped back into my shoes and headed down the hall to the after-school program to help with homework, feeling like a new person.
Brian, the newest tutor, sat up in his seat and readjusted his baseball cap when I walked in the room. I would have bet good money that he’d been sleeping on the job and ignoring the kids. I decided to overlook it today. A lot of volunteers came here, not by choice, but rather to fulfill a class requirement or some club service obligation. But I couldn’t be too choosy. Volunteers were hard to come by, and I let a lot of things slide.
Besides, I was in too good of a mood to give a lecture. What I really wanted to do was call off study time, break out the ice cream, and continue celebrating. But these kids came here for help, so that’s what I was going to do.
I took a seat next to a morose-looking seventh grader named Joey who had a report on the Industrial Revolution due Monday. He was diligently taking notes out of a book that was probably older than me.
“We are going to get computers in here real soon,” I said. “You’ll be able to look things up on the internet.”
Joey looked at me out of the corner of his eye and asked, “When will that be?”
I was going to need every dollar of Cooper’s donation for the new building, but I’d been promising these kids computers for a long time. Thanksgiving was just a few weeks away. If I got up early and found a black Friday deal on a couple desktops, I could manage it without ruining our budget.
“Soon.”
He tilted his head to the side, unconvinced. “Really?”
“Yes. I’ll buy the computers myself.” I raised my hand in the scout’s salute. “I promise.”
Joey shook his head, still not believing—which wasn’t a surprise. So many of these kids had trouble trusting. The adults in their lives have broken promises over and over—Joey especially. His father was in jail for beating his mother so badly she was hospitalized. He’d already experienced more disappointment and fear in his short life than most people do in their entire lives.
“How do you spell entrepreneur?” he asked, lo
oking down at his notebook.
“I’ll get the dictionary,” the volunteer said, jumping up out of his seat.
“Miss Emily, I heard you just got a shit load of money for the shelter,” one of the girls from the back corner of the room shouted.
“Watch the language, Terra.” I was trying to be stern, but couldn’t keep the smile off my face. It was nice to give these kids good news for a change. Lord knows they deserved it. “To answer your question, yes. We received a very generous donation last night. ”
“Good ‘cause we need to do some serious redecorating in here,” she replied. “You guys need to make this room a whole lot more stylish.”
“What? You don’t like the retro shabby-chic look we have going on?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow. “People uptown pay good money for this kind of edgy realism.”
“Can we get a new sofa in the TV room? The green one still smells like piss,” another girl asked.
“All I want is a basketball net. We used to have one next door to our apartment. I don’t have anywhere to practice now.”
The boy in the front row had been asking for a basketball net since the first day he and his family had arrived at the shelter. The new building used to be an old Lutheran school. It had basketball nets, and the old chapel would be perfect for a rec room. With the industrial kitchen, we’d be able to open meals to more than just residents. The converted mixed-use building they were housed in now had been a place to start, but the school would enable us to do so much more.
I wanted to tell them about the new building but stopped myself. I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up until I actually purchased it. Despite my normally sunshiny demeanor, I was a pragmatist through and through. Even with the extra money, I knew things could still fall apart.
“We’re going to be working on improvements. I promise.”
The phone in my pocket buzzed, and I excused myself. It wasn’t a number I recognized, but that wasn’t unusual. I hardly ever used my cell for anything other than business.
“Thank you for calling Oliver Family Shelter. Emily speaking. Can I help you?”
“Em. It’s Cooper. I’ve been instructed by the wicked witch to arrange our date.”
Of course, it was Cooper; the last person I wanted to talk to. I hated it when people called me Em. As if Emily was such a hard name to say. I took a deep breath, refusing to let him ruin my good mood. He was, after all the reason for it.
“Cooper, it’s nice to hear from you. Again, I appreciate your generosity,” Emily said. “I was just telling the kids—”
“That’s great,” he said, interrupting me. “Listen, I’m just on my way to see Manny. I want to get that date set up before I get there. I’m busy Monday, but Tuesday is wide open. I can have my driver pick you up.”
He didn’t bother to ask me what my schedule looked like. The urge to slap him again came back, along with the memory of the kiss we’d shared. It had been a perfect kiss until he ruined the moment. Naomi should have given him a script, telling him exactly what he should and should not say.
“Whatever.” The joy from earlier was slowly slipping away. I’d get through these next few months, and then, we’d celebrate. “Tuesday works for me. There’s this nice Italian place just down the road from my house. I can call and get us a table.”
“I’ve already made reservations,” Cooper said. “I’ve been dying to try this new restaurant in Tribeca, Belly of the Beast. You’re going to love it. They specialize in pork belly.”
“I’m a vegetarian.”
“Of course you are,” he said with a sigh. “I called in a personal favor to get this reservation. It’s just one night, and I’m sure there’s a salad on the menu. So I’ll have my driver pick you up at seven.”
“I’ll meet you there. Text me the address,” I said, trying to keep my voice pleasant. A few dates. Just a few dates.
“Let me know if you change your mind,” he said. “And, Em, feel free to wear that gold number again. I really liked it. Although, maybe skip the heels.”
“Trust me, I could tell,” I said under my breath.
“I’ll see you at seven,” he said, and I could hear the laughter in his voice. “I promise not to be late.”
“So good of you to put forth the effort. Asshole.” Thankfully, he’d hung up before I got the last word out.
After letting out a long cleansing breath, I looked around to make sure none of the children had overheard our conversation because I’m was pretty sure I sounded like a crazy woman. Or at least, that’s how Cooper made me feel.
Mood ruined, I went upstairs to my office. But this time instead of dancing, I took two Ibuprofen and curled up on the couch.
Wear the gold dress. What an arrogant, presumptuous thing to say. It just reinforced why I didn’t like Cooper Reynolds, and why I needed to guard my heart around him. This was make believe—all an act, and as soon as this publicity stunt thing was over, he’d go his way, and I’d go mine.
Two hundred thousand was a lot of money. I just wished the money didn’t feel dirty.
Twitter
@BBALLDAD76 Out with the kids and look who we met! @CReynolds is the best. Super nice.
13
Cooper
“Would you like to order or are you still waiting?” The waitress shot me a sympathetic smile.
I glanced down at my phone. It was almost seven thirty, and Emily was late, again. I felt like an idiot sitting there all by myself—waiting on a date. When did I turn into that guy that waited on women?
Oh, yeah, when my agent started dictating my love life.
Hopefully, I’d get credit for rolling out the red carpet for their princess even if she didn’t show. The trendy restaurant had a waiting list that was over two months long, and I had to pull in some favors to get us a seat. And after all that trouble, Emily couldn’t be bothered to show up on time.
“Give me a few more minutes.”
The woman nodded and closed her notepad. She obviously didn’t believe my date was going to show up. And honestly, I wasn’t so sure either. The kiss had been a mistake and probably a violation of a random subsection on the appropriate use of tongue in the six-page contract we signed.
Five more minutes. Five more minutes and I was going to order. I wasn’t waiting a second more. If Emily couldn’t make it on time, I didn’t have to make an effort to be polite.
My stomach growled as if agreeing.
This date was already a disaster. I should just leave now before tomorrow's headlines were about me being stood up by the date I’d paid two hundred thousand dollars to go on.
My stomach growled again. Screw it. I’d waited long enough.
Just as I turned around to wave down the waitress, Emily walked through the door.
She was in a short black dress that showed off her legs, although it wasn’t as revealing as the gold one. She was in heels again, and I swear, they were even higher than the ones she had worn at the auction.
Defiant minx.
I swallowed back a grin. She thought she was being rebellious and going against my request. But in reality, I liked it that she had backbone and didn’t just do what I wanted.
What would happen if I told her not to kiss me again?
There was something about this woman that got under my skin. Thoughts of that kiss lingered in my mind despite my irritation with her. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman I’d ever dated, but the way she’d come alive under my touch made me crave more.
And we’d just shared a kiss. I had a feeling she’d be just as responsive when I got her clothes off. When I tasted her. When I buried myself deep—
“I’m sorry I’m late. There was an emergency at the shelter I had to handle,” she said a little out of breath.
Our eyes met, and a dark red blush stained her cheeks as if she could read my thoughts. I'd almost forgotten how pretty she was when she wasn’t scowling at me.
“Don’t worry. I waited for you, Sweetheart,” I said, and grinned.
I’d added the ‘sweetheart’ just to get her panties in a bunch. And it worked. Her nose scrunched up and she pulled out her chair without a word. Teasing her was quickly becoming one of my favorite pastimes. I loved to see that angry light flash in her eyes.
“Now that you’re here, why don’t I order us a bottle of wine? Do you prefer white or red?”
“I’ll just have a water,” she said with a pinched smile and folded her napkin across her lap like any good finishing school graduate. “I didn’t think it would be a good idea to drink.”
Why didn’t that surprise me?
“So no meat and no booze. Any other vices you frown upon?”
“I drink,” she said, defensively. “At appropriate times.”
“And a date isn’t an appropriate time?” I raised an eyebrow and went back to scanning the selection of wines. She might not want a drink, but I was going to need one.
“A date would be,” she leaned forward and lowered her voice, “but we both know that this isn’t really a date.”
She sat back in her chair and smoothed an invisible wrinkle in her napkin. I just stared at her unbelieving. She was determined to make this as hard as possible, wasn’t she? The awkward silence that had fallen over the table was broken when the waitress approached to take our orders.
As Emily went through a list of dietary restrictions, I had to bite my tongue. How the waitress managed to stand there with a straight face was a mystery to me. My mother had waited tables for years, but I couldn’t imagine having the put up with that kind of bullshit.
“The ratatouille is a popular vegetarian choice,” the waitress said. “We can serve it over pasta or by itself. The produce is organic and locally sourced.”
“That does sound delicious, but I’m allergic to bell peppers,” Emily said with a sigh. “I think I’ll go with the cheese and spinach ravioli.” Emily handed over her menu and gave the waitress a genuine smile that lit up her face. Again, I was struck by how pretty she was when she wasn’t scowling at me.
