Love To Hate You

by Isabelle Richards

  My alarm goes off again.

  Stretching, she leans up to kiss me. “You’d better get going. You already have a bad boy reputation. You don’t need to make it worse by showing up late to the first day of the season.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Arianna

  Sometimes I leave therapy feeling like I really have a handle on things. Other times I leave and feel as though all I’ve done is talk in circles for an hour. I have a meeting with the SEC later this week to discuss Sven, and Dr. Clawson doesn’t think I’m ready to stand up to the scrutiny of an investigation. I’ll have to openly discuss my drug use, and she doesn’t believe I’m strong enough yet. I’m not convinced I am either, but I also can’t stomach the fact that Sven could come at me at any moment.

  She also doesn’t understand why I need to know if Blake is my brother. It won’t change anything. We already know my father had an affair and my mother pressured a woman into having an abortion. If the child was aborted or brought to term doesn’t change what my parents did. She thinks I’m focusing on Blake rather than focusing on the issue with my parents. Maybe I am, but is it so wrong to want to know if I have a brother?

  Going against the good doctor’s advice, I meet with the SEC. Wallace steers the conversation toward Sven and his behavior rather than mine. The interview is uncomfortable, but I survive. Since I’m being a rebel, I have Wallace contact Blake’s lawyers.

  A few days later, Charlie and I are walking across town to flying yoga when I get Wallace’s email about Blake Benson. “Listen to this—he agrees to take the test only if he is the only one who gets the results and he can choose to share them with me if he wants. Does that make any sense to you?”

  She adjusts her bag on her shoulder. “Kind of. Think of what being the illegitimate child of Aiden Aldrich entails. He might want to think long and hard about if he really wants the exposure that comes with that title. From what Chase said, he’s just a regular guy. A farmer or something. Something like this could change his life, and not for the better.”

  I think about how a few years back, the news came out that our governor had had a kid with the housekeeper and kept it under wraps for most of the kid’s life. My heart always went out to the kids. It was bad enough to have a father who wouldn’t claim you, but it was even worse that the whole world knew about it. If the test shows that he’s my brother, he’ll no longer be Blake Benson; he’ll be the kid Aiden Aldrich didn’t want.

  The kit is couriered over on Thursday. Blake was very specific that my name could not be used. Clearly he’s worried about the results somehow getting leaked. Regardless of the results, the fact that we’re taking the test is enough for someone to write a story. I follow his instructions to the letter. The kit is shipped to Jane Smith, and the name on the intake form is Sample 29B8yXQ. The test is paid for by a holding company Wallace uses for situations just like this. The whole ordeal should be untraceable. I swab the inside of my cheek with each of the giant Q-tips then drop the kit off at FedEx on my way to Chase’s game. Now I just have to wait and see if Blake shares the results with me.

  The Niners play the Redskins in the opening game of the season. The Skins are terrible, so I had thought this would be an easy win to start off the year, but in the off season, the Niners lost a few crucial linemen to injury. The crew on the field is decent but still has a long way to go to work as a cohesive unit. Chase is left exposed and the Skins’ defense tries to capitalize on that vulnerability, but they’re disorganized and their defensive play calling is atrocious. As the night goes on and the Niners monopolize the clock, the Skins try to make up for what they lack in skill by resorting to dirty plays. It starts with a blatant helmet-to-helmet hit. Then four flags for unnecessary roughness, one of which turns into a shoving match leading to two personal foul calls. As the clock ticks down, the defensive end finds the hole in the line and pounds Chase play after play. It’s painful to watch. Charlie and I cringe after every hit.

  At the beginning of the fourth quarter, the Skins defense goes off sides. The ref blows the whistle to end the play, but the defensive end ignores it and plows into Chase. Penalties are issued, but Chase is still on the ground. The coaches and trainers run onto the field as my heart stops. I don’t breathe. I don’t move until they help him to his feet. Once he’s up, he goes right back into the huddle and continues on with the game. The Niners run the ball for the rest of the quarter, eating up the clock as much as they can. They win the game, slaughtering the Skins, but Chase is hurt. I can tell by the way he moves. He’s stiff, guarded, and his movements are cumbersome. Something is definitely wrong.

  When the game is over, instead of waiting by the players’ entrance like the rest of the girlfriends and wives, I storm into the locker room. I’ve never done this without my father. He was the golden ticket; we could get in anywhere. Technically I’m not allowed in the locker room, but I dare someone to try to stop me.

  “You’re not press anymore. You can’t be in here, Arianna,” the offensive coordinator says as I push through the locker room.

  I get in his face. “I wouldn’t be in here if you had done your job better! If the defensive end has found your weak spot and is hammering your quarterback, change the freaking play! What, did you just check out for the fourth quarter? A monkey could have called better plays than you did.”

  He starts to reply when the head coach chimes in. “Just let her go.”

  I have a few choice words for him as well, but I decide to keep them to myself. I’m pushing my luck as it is. Several players cover up as I storm by.

  “Trust me, I don’t care. I have no interest in your penises,” I mutter as I make my way to the training room. When I get there, Chase is sitting up on the table.

  “Hey.” He smiles that smile that says I’m pretending I’m okay, but really it hurts to move. It hurts to think about moving. As beat up as he looks, I feel better now that I’ve laid eyes on him.

  “I’m thinking about trying out for the team,” I say as I cross the room. “I think I’d make a better lineman than the guys you have.”

  “I resent that,” says a one of the linemen getting his wrist checked out.

  I glower at him so fiercely that he turns beet red and shrinks away, returning his focus to the trainer.

  “Easy there, feisty. It’s going to be a long season if you start berating the team every time I take a hit,” Chase teases.

  After staring at him incredulously, I throw my hands in the air. “A hit? That was more than a hit. And those refs! Half their defense should have been kicked out of the game!”

  He chuckles for a second then grimaces. “I don’t remember you ever getting this protective before. I kinda like it. It’s hot.”

  I notice X-rays on the computer screen next to his table. “These yours?” I ask, looking at them closer.

  He nods. “A couple of cracked ribs. I need to go for an MRI tomorrow. Kent thinks I have a possible herniated disc, but I think I’m fine. I’ll be ready to play next week.”

  A tall guy with glasses wearing a Niners polo comes over to the table. He shakes my hand. “I’m Kent. You must be Arianna. Nice to finally meet you.” He points his thumb at Chase. “This one doesn’t shut up about you.”

  Chase smiles sheepishly. “It’s nice to actually be able to talk about you.”

  Kent hands Chase a few bottles of pills. “Anti-inflammatories and pain meds. Be sure to take them regularly. We need to stay ahead of the inflammation, not try to play catch up.” Kent turns to me. “He’ll need to take it easy for the next couple of days. Will you be around to help him out? He’s got to stay wrapped and avoid anything too strenuous.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be around.” The phone rings, and Kent excuses himself. I say to Chase, “You know, you didn’t have to go through all of this just to get me to stay over.”

  A devilish grin spreads across his face. “Did it work?”

  I get Chase all to myself for the next few days. The MRI comes back questionable. Ther
e’s too much inflammation for the doctor to say anything with certainty, so Chase just has to rest and see how he feels later in the week. With all this time alone, it seems reasonable we’d slip between the sheets and not come up for air, but that isn’t exactly how it works out. Coach and the team doctor put the kibosh on all things schmexy.

  So in the absence of sex, we watch game film. Lots and lots of film. If Chase is going to play hurt, he needs to figure out how to help his team not make the same mistakes they did last week, and he needs to be ready for anything the Cardinals throw at him. I’m probably one of the only women in the world who thinks this is one of the best ways to spend a night.

  On Wednesday morning, while making breakfast, I receive an email from Wallace. Blake is willing to meet me to discuss the results if I come to Oklahoma. Otherwise he’ll send the results to Wallace.

  After reading the email to Chase, I put my iPad on the table. “The results must be positive. Why else would he offer to meet? If they were negative, I’m sure he just would have sent them and been done with me.”

  “Possibly,” Chase says, digging into his egg white omelet. “Do you want to meet him?”

  “Yes,” I reply without having to think about it. “Is it weird that he’ll only meet if I go to Oklahoma?”

  After finishing his orange juice, Chase picks up my glass and polishes off the rest of mine. “From what I can remember, he has a wife and three or four kids. The ranch he works was his father-in-law’s, but I think he took over when his father-in-law died. So maybe it’s just hard for him to get away. I didn’t look at his financials. Maybe money is tight. You could offer to fly him out or just meet him there.”

  I get the carafe from the fridge and refill both glasses. “Will you come with me? This would be much easier for me if you were holding my hand.”

  His eyes light up. He’s never so happy as when I need him for something. Something as simple as opening the pickle jar makes him giddy. “You think I’d let you go alone? See if he can meet Monday. We can fly from Phoenix to Tulsa after the game.” He looks at the clock on the wall then scarfs down the rest of his breakfast. “I’m so late. I’ve got to get to the field.”

  “You’re not ready. You need another day,” I say as I clear the dishes.

  He snorts. “Coming from you, that’s hysterical. Didn’t you play your last junior Open with a broken wrist? ‘Just tape it up tight, and I’ll be fine,’ I believe your words were.”

  “I’m a great person to model yourself after. I played with two torn ligaments and ended up blowing out all three because of it.” I hold out my hands like a scale. “One more day of rest or career-ending injury. Hmm, which makes more sense?”

  I know I’m being a hypocrite. I played hurt all the time because that’s what athletes do. When we were dating before, the few times he was injured, I would have told him to take a cortisone shot, suck it up, and get his ass back on the field. But I’m not an athlete anymore. I’m just a girlfriend now. My priorities are different.

  “You love to play the knee card because there’s nothing I can say in response.” He gives me a quick peck on the cheek. “Got to go. I’ll call you later.”

  He comes home sore every night, but come game time Sunday, they shoot him up and he plays brilliantly. No one but his trainer and me probably have any idea he’s in pain.

  After the team leaves to catch their flight home, Chase and I take a cab from the stadium to the hotel the team stayed in, which just so happens to be the hotel Chase and I stayed in last time we were in Phoenix.

  “Do I have to worry about finding Jenna in your room this time?” I chide as we walk in. Well, I walk. He hobbles.

  “I certainly hope not. Carmen’s been keeping tabs on her. Last she reported, Jenna’s still in the hospital. I guess they tried to let her out a few months back, but she had some sort of breakdown and her parents recommitted her. That reminds me—the restraining order is set to expire soon. We’ll have to make sure Carmen refiles.”

  “Good idea.” I push the call button for the elevator. “I actually feel bad for her. You’re not an easy guy to get over. I certainly never could.”

  He tips my chin to tilt my face toward his. “Thank God for that.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Arianna

  The only times I’ve let go of Chase’s hand since we boarded the plane in Phoenix were to go to the bathroom and to buckle and unbuckle my seatbelt. Even then it was hard to let go. I think my fingernail marks will be permanently embedded into his skin. I’m not sure why I’m so nervous. The thought of having a brother is actually exciting, so why am I in a complete panic?

  When our rental car pulls up, Chase kisses my temple. “You’re going to have to let go of me so we can get into the car.”

  Nodding, I slowly release his hand.

  He opens the passenger door for me. “It’ll be okay. When I spoke to him on the phone, he seemed like a decent guy.”

  “What if he hates me? What if he’s been harboring resentment toward me all these years? You read the file on how he grew up. They were dirt poor and living in a trailer. DCF was called because his teachers kept reporting that he was coming to school dirty and undernourished. This poor man had a horrible childhood.”

  “Your dad gave her a ton of money. I wonder where it all went.”

  I type the address into the GPS. “I have no idea, but it certainly didn’t go to raising Blake. What if he blames me for the way he grew up?”

  “I didn’t sense any hostility from him when I spoke to him,” he says before closing my door. When he slides into the driver’s seat, he says, “Remember, you aren’t responsible for Aiden’s choices. However this turns out, none of it is your fault. You can’t shoulder the responsibility.”

  I take his hand back and thread my fingers through his. “You may have to say that a million more times.”

  He brings my hand to his lips and gives me a quick kiss. “No matter what happens, you’re strong enough to handle this.”

  It’s an almost three-hour drive from Tulsa to the Heaven’s Edge Ranch. After being buzzed in at the gate, we drive through about twenty minutes of beautiful green rolling pastures before we come to a collection of Spanish-style buildings. We park the car then enter the first building. When Blake said he lived on a cattle ranch, I’d expected a few cows and a horse or two, maybe some chickens. For some reason, I had an image of Little House on the Prairie stuck in my head. This place is more like Dallas, with marble floors, expensive-looking art, and fresh-cut flowers on every table. Clearly my impression of cattle ranchers was very off.

  A well-dressed receptionist shows us to a conference room before offering us a cappuccino. Along the wall are pictures of everyone from politicians to musicians to actors, all posed with the same older gentleman. Each one is holding up a leather jacket or boots or a saddle.

  The conference room is just as luxurious as the rest of the building. Each chair placed around the gorgeous granite table is made of the softest leather I’ve ever felt. The cow skulls on the wall make my skin crawl though.

  Chase whistles as he takes in the room. “Feeling less guilty now that you know he’s not some starving ranch hand living off hotdogs and beans in a can?”

  “We still don’t know anything yet. This is where he works, not where he lives.”

  The door opens, and Chase and I stand as a man walks in. He’s about thirty, dressed in cowboy boots, jeans, and a white button-down, topped off with a cowboy hat.

  He takes off his hat, revealing his dark brown hair and brown eyes, and extends his hand. “Blake Benson.”

  I shake his hand. “I’m Arianna.” I put my hand on Chase’s shoulder. “And this is Chase.”

  He smiles. “I know. The whole office is buzzing.” He gestures for us to sit. “Thanks for making the trip down. It’s next to impossible for me to get away. The drive wasn’t too bad, I hope.”

  “No,” I reply with a smile. “It was a beautiful drive. I’ve never really spent
much time in this part of the country. It’s breathtaking.”

  He laughs. “It’s even better when you get numb to the smell of cow shit.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Yeah, it’s pretty intense.” I stare across the table at him, looking for any signs of Daddy. I see the cheekbones, the shape of his brow, but I’m not sure if I’m really seeing those things. At this rate, I could probably stare at a bulldog and convince myself he looked like Daddy.

  Blake taps his hand on the table. “Well, let’s just get right down to it. I received the results of the DNA test, and they are as I suspected. We are not related.”

  Grabbing Chase’s hand under the table, I try to keep my voice steady. “Oh. Well, I guess that resolves that.”

  “I know it seems silly for you to have come all this way just to get a no, but I wanted to visit with you a bit. First, I want to apologize on behalf of my mother. She’s a master manipulator and has pulled this con on a number of men. Growing up, she must have tried to convince four or five different men they were my father. None of them were, of course. She was excellent at finding men who were just drunk enough to not remember, and she preyed on their guilt and amnesia until they wrote a check.”

  As though he’s read my mind, Chase asks, “So what are you saying? You don’t think Aiden even had an affair with your mother?”

  Blake shrugs. “I can’t answer that one way or another. My mother never mentioned him to me, which leads me to believe he was just another scam. But with her, you never know. Personally, I think if I was his kid, she would have gone after him for more money at some point while he was alive. When I heard about the book she was peddling, I reached out to her for answers because suddenly so many things made sense. But she started getting her lies all jumbled, and I hung up. She probably doesn’t know what the truth is at this point.”