The Better Man

by Len Webster

  When he got into Berkley and made the track team, he thought he had a chance at going further, but a knee injury killed that dream. Now Will was a financial advisor. His clientele were usually professional athletes who made way too much money. Most were smart with their money, using Will’s firm to seek guidance on what to do with it. Other athletes listened to their agents to arrange the initial meeting, but then Will never saw them again. They usually blew their money on cars, jewelry, alcohol, drugs, and women.

  Today, his firm had sent him and his partner, Emerson Calvert, for a meeting with some of the new Boston Celtic recruits. Kids who were now making more than triple the average American, Will included, in a single week. There was always the chance that their careers could end with an injury. At twenty-seven, it was Will’s responsibility to ensure that these kids—who would be making millions—knew that nothing was ever guaranteed. They had to be responsible with their money. He usually gave them stats, but if they didn’t listen, he gave them his story.

  All the medical bills.

  Never making it as a professional athlete.

  Having to figure out what to do when the dream died.

  Most listened, and they were the ones who made his job easier.

  As Emerson got to work explaining the graph that was displayed, Will took notes. It was her turn to be lead presenter after he had done their last presentation in Wyoming. As always, Emerson was a natural. She actually cared about their futures when they didn’t give her much attention. It was easier with the kids just drafted than some of the veterans who believed they knew how to handle their money. They usually took the wrong advice that led to their accounts being audited by the IRS for tax evasion.

  As Will continued to type, his phone’s screen illuminated with a new text message. He picked it up to find Savannah’s name, and a smile twitched at his lips. It had been over an hour since he’d left her and Miller at the park. Will hadn’t meant to stay long, but his goddaughter had convinced him to push her on the swing for a little while. Then he watched Miller chase Savannah on the grass before he finally had to leave for his meeting. They had walked him to his cab, and Will had awkwardly asked Savannah for her number. He wanted to text her to make sure he was still welcomed for dinner. When he arrived at TD Garden and got out of the cab, she had texted him to say it was still okay.

  Savannah: Hey, Will. I hope I’m not interrupting your meeting. I just wanted to check to see if you had any allergies. We’re at the store picking up groceries for dinner before we walk back home.

  Will: I’m only allergic to shellfish.

  Savannah: Oh, wow. That’s a sucky allergy to have. Don’t worry, shellfish is on Miller’s “do not feed” list. She’s apparently not a fan. We’re having spaghetti since Miller pointed at it on the list. Is that okay?

  Will: Definitely. Meeting should be over soon, but I still have some work to do. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way. See you later.

  Savannah: Great.

  “Anything to add, Will?” Emerson asked, arching her auburn brow at him with humor flickering in her green eyes.

  Will cleared his throat and glanced over at the screen to see where she was up to on the presentation. He shook his head. “No, I think you’ve got it covered.” Then he looked over at the two Celtic players. “We’re not here to tell you what you can or can’t do with your money. That decision is up to you. We can just give you advice on how to better manage the money you make. You never know what could happen. We’ll assess any investments you’re interested in making and give you our honest opinion. We’re here to better guard your future.”

  The two players smiled, and one of the agents said, “This was excellent. We’ll be in touch.”

  Standing, Will reached out and shook hands with the players, their agents, and some of the Celtics executives. When he and Emerson were all who remained in the boardroom, she unplugged her laptop from the screen and placed it in her laptop bag.

  “You were distracted,” Emerson pointed out as she zipped up her bag.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to zone out.”

  His partner laughed. “You’re usually professional and focused. Who is she?”

  “She?”

  Emerson rolled her eyes. “It has to be. What’s she like?”

  “My goddaughter is the sweetest kid in the world.”

  “Oh, I forgot you visited her today. I’m sorry I assumed otherwise.” She patted his shoulder. “But seriously, Will. I think it’s time you started dating again. Tamara was nice. Why don’t you call her again? We could even double. Lisa makes hummus to impress.”

  Will closed his laptop. Though their meeting with the Celtics was finished for the day, they still had another meeting tomorrow with a marketing agency. It was rare that they had non-sports clients, but he was already in town and wanted to give Emerson his support.

  “Lisa does make hummus to impress,” he said, complimenting Emerson on her girlfriend’s dip. He remembered how tasty it was at their Super Bowl party last season. “And Tamara was nice …”

  “Then call her when we get back to New York. It’s been, what? A month since your last date?”

  “Something like that,” he said with a shrug. It wasn’t that Tamara wasn’t nice. It was that he didn’t feel a spark or connection. In fact, his last three dates had all fizzled.

  “Call her. Hell, go back to New York and see her tonight. I can do the Stamos presentation on my own,” Emerson insisted.

  He chuckled at her determination. Not only was Emerson his partner at the office but she had also been his friend since they were both hired as graduates at Coates and Jackson. He had been the first person she had come out to three years ago, fearing he would no longer treat her the same the moment she told him she was a lesbian. That couldn’t be further from the truth. He supported her and saw just how much freer she was after she came out. In fact, she was the happiest she had ever been.

  “As nice as that offer is, I can’t leave you. Plus, I’m having dinner at my cousin’s tonight with my goddaughter. Can’t leave Boston. She comes first.”

  Understanding flashed in her light green eyes. “That makes sense. Well, I’ll see you at nine tomorrow?”

  He nodded. “Definitely. Call me if you need any help with the presentation. I’ll have my phone with me tonight.”

  “The sky could be falling, and I still won’t be calling. Enjoy tonight with your goddaughter. You’ve been working nonstop for months, so you deserve a night off.” Emerson picked up her bag. “Let’s grab a drink at the hotel bar before you go to your cousin’s. God knows I need one after today.”

  “I like this plan,” Will said with a grin as he packed away his things and then left the boardroom with Emerson.

  Will: Hey, Savannah. Do you need me to bring anything over? I can still stop by the store.

  Savannah: No, we’re set. Miller’s excited to see you.

  He smiled as he sat in the back of the cab on his way to Cambridge.

  Will: How was the park after I left?

  Savannah: It was good until this little boy pushed Miller over.

  His heart came to a roaring stop as he saw the ellipses on his screen, indicating that she was still typing. Concern for his little cousin swept through him, leaving him anxious over her well-being.

  Savannah: Don’t worry. She shed a few tears, but I checked her over, and she wasn’t hurt or anything. I called Evan to let him know.

  Relief consumed his chest. He didn’t know what he would have done with himself if she was seriously hurt. He knew kids got hurt all the time, but he couldn’t even imagine Miller with a scratch. She was so precious and small. He was so in love with her cute laughter and adorable smiles. Will had never been fond of children, but when Miller came into his life, it was as if the gates fell the moment he held her. He was protective when it came to his cousin’s daughter.

  “We’re here, sir,” the driver announced.

  Will reached into his pants pocket and slid o
ut his wallet. He pulled out cash and handed it over to the driver before he picked up the bottle of wine he had bought after he had a drink with Emerson. He should have gone to a liquor store, but he didn’t have time. Instead, he bought the bottle of red wine from the bar, thinking it would pair well with the spaghetti Savannah was cooking.

  Once he got out of the cab, he walked over to the gate, typed in the code, and watched it open automatically. Before Miller was born, his cousin and her husband had more security installed in their home since Miller was the niece of the famous Kyle Gilmore, the captain of the Boston Red Sox. The Red Sox fans were always welcoming of her, but Alexandra and Evan took extra measures just in case. As the gate closed behind him, he walked up the path and climbed the short steps to the front door. He gripped the wine bottle tightly before he pressed the doorbell. After a moment, he heard the door unlock and then open.

  “Hey,” Savannah greeted with a smile. Those bright blue eyes of hers twinkled, captivating him. Then he noticed the red mark on her forehead.

  Laughing, he stepped forward, reached up, and ran his thumb across her skin. Savannah flinched at his touch. “Sorry, you had some sauce on your face.”

  She blinked at him and ran her fingers over her forehead, ensuring it was gone. “Thank you. Guess I had the stove too high. Is that wine?” she asked, pointing at the bottle in his hand.

  “Yeah, I got it at the hotel bar. Wasn’t sure if Alexandra and Evan had any.” He heard a giggle behind Savannah. “Where’s Millie?”

  A smile stretched across her face, and that unease from his touch vanished. “She’s video chatting with Evan. Come in and keep her company while I finish up dinner. Y’all can chat.” Then she stepped aside and held the door open for him.

  Will entered the home and made his way down the hall to find Miller in her high chair, her arms waving as he heard Evan say, “Next time, Daddy will be there so no one pushes you.”

  “I miss you, Daddy.” As Will stepped into the kitchen, the sound of him setting the bottle of wine on the counter had the toddler turning to face him. The brightest smile consumed her face and reached her eyes. “Willy!”

  “Hey, Pretty Millie,” Will greeted as he walked over to her. He bent down and kissed her cheek. Then he glanced over at the dining table to see her father on the laptop screen. “Hey, Ev.”

  Evan waved. “Hey, Will. Sorry I’m out of town.”

  Will shook his head. “It’s all good. Alexandra said I could visit. Hope that’s okay with you.”

  “She called after I landed, and of course. I hope Miller hasn’t been a handful.”

  “Nah,” Will said with a laugh. “She’s perfect.” Then he turned to look at his goddaughter in her high chair. “Millie, why don’t you talk to Daddy while I help Auntie Savannah with dinner? I’ll talk to you a little later, Evan.”

  “Sure thing, Will. My love, do you still want Daddy to read you a story tonight?”

  Miller nodded her head, and Will returned to the kitchen. He stood next to Savannah by the stove as she stirred the pot. “Is there anything you want me to do?”

  She spun around, and he laughed the moment he saw her face. “What?”

  “You have more sauce on your face.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Seriously?” Then she wiped around her forehead.

  Will shook his head, stepped closer, and pressed his palm to her jaw, steadying her face. He reached over and picked up the dish towel with his free hand. Gently, he wiped the sauce from her cheek as she inhaled sharply.

  There was a shift between them as she stared at him, her lips parting.

  He felt the pull to her.

  The desire to feel her skin beneath his touch.

  “Yay!” Miller shouted to her father, causing Savannah to pull away.

  The unease on her face returned.

  Her body tightened with discomfort.

  The tension in the air thick.

  What are you doing, Will?

  Savannah didn’t look at him as she returned to the stove and stirred the sauce. “Could you please strain the pasta?” she asked, staring into the pot.

  He did that.

  His touch made her uncomfortable.

  And Will hated himself for it.

  Five

  Savannah

  “And Clover ate even more lettuce, happy to be home,” Evan Gilmore read in a whisper as his daughter curled up against Savannah, her eyelids drifting. “Good night, Miller.”

  The little girl finally closed her eyes. Savannah smiled as she brushed Miller’s brown hair back. Then she looked at her phone’s screen to find Evan smiling at his sleeping daughter. Before he read her a story, Miller showed him the stars. It was cute watching Miller point at the stars for her father to see.

  Savannah set the phone on the bed and laid Miller down so her head rested on the pillow before she slipped out of the small bed. Then she covered the toddler with the blanket and picked up her phone. Once she walked to the bedroom door, she turned and smiled to find that Miller hadn’t stirred. Savannah flicked the light off, letting Miller sleep with the twinkling stars before she left the room and closed the door.

  She gazed down at her phone to see Evan still on the screen. “Thank you for taking care of her, Sav. I really appreciate it. You’ve done a great job.”

  “Thanks, Evan. But Will really helped when she didn’t want to eat her spaghetti.”

  “I really appreciate you both taking care of my daughter. I better get some sleep since tomorrow’s a big day. I should be home on Monday night. Is that still okay?”

  “Still okay. Night, Evan.”

  “Night, Sav,” he said before he ended their video call.

  Just as Savannah was about to make her way down the hall, her phone vibrated with another call.

  Walter.

  Her eyes clenched shut. She was so close to caving. She felt the desire to answer his call in her fingertips. The need to hear what he had to say. Maybe he didn’t mean that text message. Maybe he didn’t love her, but he could have cared for her. Could have accepted his feelings for her. She wasn’t crazy. She knew what they had and felt, and it was more than a casual fling.

  All their late-night talks.

  Their intimate touches and looks.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  He’d made it clear many times before.

  She needed better, and he never delivered.

  Savannah reached the gate and tucked her phone in the back pocket of her jeans. Unlatching the gate, she pushed it open before she took a step down the stairs. She ensured the gate was locked before she went to the gate at the bottom of the stairs. She would never get used to all the baby-proofing in her best friend’s house, but it was necessary with Miller walking.

  Once she made it to the kitchen, she found Will drying the pots. He had to take a call after dinner with his co-worker when Evan called, so she hadn’t expected him to clean up.

  “Hey,” he said, pulling out a drawer and setting the pot inside. “Is Millie asleep?”

  Savannah nodded as she grabbed another dish towel. She stood next to Will and grabbed another pot from the rack. Drying it, she thought of tonight. It wasn’t what she had expected when she came to Massachusetts.

  William Lawrence was kind to her.

  He had no reason to be. He had never gone out of his way to really acknowledge her. Maybe it was their situation, and she misread his touch. Misread the way he looked at her as they ate and talked at the dinner table. Savannah was seeing things.

  He’s just being nice. That’s all he’s being. He’s just a nice guy.

  Suddenly, Will took the pot and dish towel from her. “Go sit on the couch, Savannah. I’ll pour you a glass of wine.”

  “No, Will—”

  He shook his head. “Go relax. I’ll finish up.”

  Not wanting to make things even more awkward between them, she let him take over and went to the living room. As she sat on the couch with a sigh, she thought of her interactions with Will.
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  He wiped pasta sauce from her face.

  Twice.

  God, it was so embarrassing the first time but a second time?

  She groaned as she tipped her head back, staring at the ceiling. Her phone beeped, and she let out a loud sigh. She lifted her hips from the couch cushion, then reached behind and pulled her phone from her pocket. Once she sat back down, she unlocked it to find Walter’s messages.

  She ached.

  All over.

  Every single spot he had touched ached with misery and longing.

  Such longing that she foolishly opened his messages.

  Walter: Please, Savannah. Please.

  Walter: Does it have to be about love?

  Walter: Why do I have to be in love with you to see you?

  Her eyes stung with his last message.

  He didn’t have to be in love with her. But to protect her heart, he had to love her if he wanted her to fall all over again. He had to be in love with her to justify all the years of back and forth.

  Being resilient was killing her.

  And Walter Vidović was relentless and brutal with her heart.

  “Are you okay?” Will asked, holding a glass of wine out to her. She watched him glance down at her phone, seeing her text messages. His smile dropped a fraction before he set the bottle of wine and an empty glass on the coffee table and sat next to her. He stared at her phone once more before he looked up at her and pressed his lips into a tight, supportive smile.

  “I’m …” She paused as she took her wine from him. “I’m not sure.”

  Will nodded, now focusing on the TV in front of them. He didn’t say a word as he leaned forward, grasped the wine bottle, and poured himself a glass. Then he sat back against the cushion.