The Better Man

by Len Webster

  Walter flinched at his teammate’s warning. “Okay,” he mumbled as he blinked at the barista behind the counter.

  The blonde squinted at him. “So what can I get you?”

  Unable to help himself, Walter leaned on the counter and smiled at her. “What can you get me?”

  She raised her brow. “I don’t get paid enough to select your beverage choice. I work on tips.”

  “Then I have a tip for you.”

  “And what’s that?”

  He leaned closer, barely a breath between them, as he whispered, “You’ll be falling in love with me before you know it.”

  She laughed. Hysterically. “You need to work on your tips. So what’ll it be?”

  Standing straight, Walter grinned that she didn’t make it easy for him. So he ordered, “Your name and number.”

  Now

  Walter replayed the memory of meeting Savannah Peters in his head.

  It was innocent at the time.

  He thought she was fucking hot.

  He warned her that she would be falling in love with him, but little did Walter know that he would be the one who fell to his knees.

  Fell at her goddamn mercy.

  “We have to sort this out,” his agent, Lu Chung, growled as he set his laptop on Walter’s kitchen counter. “I flew all the way to Milwaukee so we can get a handle on this. You walked away from the Bucks without even consulting me. I’m your agent, Walt. What the fuck was going through your head?”

  Walter pulled out another shot glass from the cabinet and slid it to him. “I fucking had enough of them telling me what to do.”

  Lu stepped closer and swiped the whiskey bottle from the counter, walked over to the sink, and poured the amber liquor down the drain.

  “What the fuck, Lu? That’s a bottle of six-hundred-dollar whiskey!”

  “You need help, Walt. We need to get you in a program. You’re gonna drink yourself to death.”

  Walter ignored his agent and returned to his bar, grabbing another bottle of whiskey. He twisted the metal cap off, held the bottle up, and growled, “I don’t need help,” before he threw back the whiskey.

  It burned down his throat to smolder in his stomach. Pulling the bottle away from his mouth, Walter wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “I need you to get the Knicks to sign me. I want to go back to New York. I want her back—” He quickly shut his mouth. He couldn’t believe he let his true desires slip.

  “Her? You threw away a career for her? She’s gone, Walter. Long gone!”

  Anger built in him. Years and years of bitterness, longing, and regret exploded as he threw the whiskey against the cabinet, shattering glass and spilling liquor. Fear overtook his agent’s eyes and posture. Lu was scared of what Walter could do. Scared of the harm he could cause. To Lu and himself.

  “You listen to me, Lu. Get the Knicks to sign me. If I can’t have her, get me the fuck home!”

  Lu reached up and brushed the remnants of whiskey from his suit jacket. “On one condition.”

  Walter’s nostrils flared. “What?”

  “Deal with her or get some fucking help,” Lu demanded as he turned and picked up his laptop. “I can’t help you if you can’t help yourself.”

  Then his agent left.

  Left Walter with whiskey dripping onto the kitchen tile granite.

  And with glass shattered on the floor.

  But he was right.

  Walter needed help.

  He needed to see Savannah.

  He needed to see her in order to help himself.

  Twelve

  Savannah

  Savannah, he’s my client.

  She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Will couldn’t be his advisor. There was no way their worlds could ever meet. Walter was a defender in the NBA, and Will was a financial advisor. It didn’t make any sense.

  “Y-you’re …” she stuttered, unable to say it out loud.

  Will’s jaw clenched as he nodded. “He was my mentor’s client before he retired. I’m his financial advisor. I have been for years.” He brushed his hair back as he let out an exhausted sigh. Then he squared his shoulders. “He’s one of my biggest clients.”

  Savannah and Will weren’t only connected by Alex and Miller.

  They were connected by Walter Vidović.

  Will was his advisor.

  Savannah was just the girl who had her heart broken by him.

  Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think it was possible for someone as mature and attentive as Will to know him. Walter was one of his biggest clients. If it were any other NBA star, she would be jumping and wanting to celebrate. She knew how lucrative working for professional athletes was. Walter was one of the rising stars. Savannah had followed his career long after he graduated from Duke. All she could do was nod her head as they stared at each other, hoping their silence could find the words they were at a loss for.

  Their weekend together boomed at her temples.

  Their innocent touches and looks.

  The way he gave Miller his attention.

  The way he allowed Savannah to be in his presence.

  Their friendship had blossomed and was now on the verge of crumpling.

  Their memories were petals falling to the ground.

  The happiness he gave her was pollen in the wind, settling far from home.

  “This is a problem,” Savannah finally whispered.

  Will nodded. “It’s a conflict of interest.”

  “It is?”

  “Savannah,” Will said as he stepped closer. He lifted his hand as if he were about to touch her, but then he pulled away. He was struggling, and she could see it in his eyes. “He’s my client. And knowing you love him, it’s unethical if we were to continue to be … friends.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  Over the past two days, Savannah felt more. More than what she had ever expected herself to feel around William Lawrence. Because she did. She felt for Will. He was unlike the man before him. Will was gentle to her soul, careful with her heart, and treasured her time. Will was different, and here he was, telling her they couldn’t continue.

  It was as if he were breaking up with her. The thought caused her entire body to heat and her eyes to sting. He was breaking her without even realizing it. Savannah was about to lose a friend she appreciated all because of who he worked for. All because Walter Vidović still had a controlling hold over her life. The desire to fight Will consumed her. Savannah couldn’t control many things in her life, but she wouldn’t let Will take their friendship away. They had a connection she didn’t share with anyone else. Her stupid slip of her tongue would not end this.

  Shaking her head, Savannah closed the distance and pressed her palms to his cheeks. It was intimate—far too intimate for friends—but she needed him to know how serious she was. But before she could even beg him to reconsider, he said, “He’s a good guy, Savannah. Away from the cameras and basketball, he’s a good guy. I can see why you think he’s interesting. Why you fell in love with him.” Will grasped her wrists and pulled her hands from his face. “I’m just an advisor, Savannah.”

  “Will,” she said in a small voice.

  “And as an advisor, my suggestion is that this situation isn’t stable for either of us. We shouldn’t invest in us,” he recommended, the anguish in his eyes matching his voice. “I should go. I’ll come by to say goodbye to Millie before I go back to New York.”

  “No, Will. Please. He isn’t worth this.”

  He shook his head. “Think long-term, Savannah, because I am. I can’t compare to him. We both know that. I couldn’t even do a good job being your friend.”

  Nothing.

  Savannah had nothing left to give.

  Nothing left to say to fight him.

  Her lips parted, but nothing escaped her.

  Deja vu repeated itself as she remembered the end of her and Walter, and Savannah was too hurt to convince him to stay.

  Just like last time.

 
; So Savannah did what Will wanted, and she thought long-term.

  And the Savannah of right now did not deserve William Lawrence’s long-term goals and needs. He gave her his advice. And she would take it. So she swallowed the large lump in her throat and nodded. “I’ll walk you out.”

  A small smile replaced the frown on his face. “It’s okay. Stay. Enjoy your telescope. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Will didn’t say more as he spun around and opened the front door. Savannah’s feet were planted to the floor as he walked out, closing the door on their friendship on his way out.

  Savannah couldn’t sleep.

  She had laid on the fold-out couch and tried to, but her thoughts screamed in her head at the mistakes she had made tonight. Even when the haze of the alcohol lifted, she stared at her phone, wondering what she should do.

  Will was right. He didn’t do a good job at being her friend—he was better. He was a natural at it. So natural that she wanted more of him. There was no denying that after their afternoon at the planetarium, she found herself more attracted to him. The fact that he thought he was boring was ridiculous. Made worse when she let her stupid mouth run.

  She didn’t mean it. There was no way Walter could ever hold an intellectual, mature conversation like Will.

  And the moment Will left her, she realized two things.

  Walter Vidović was the rage of fire.

  William Lawrence was the peace of the wind.

  And right now, she needed Will over fire. The desire and the peace. So Savannah sat up and brushed her hair over her shoulder. Reaching over, she turned on the lamp and let out a shaky exhale.

  Words needed to be said tonight, but she had cowered. She had for days. But she wouldn’t anymore.

  “God, give me strength,” she prayed into the night as she unlocked her phone and pressed his number.

  It rang. Two short rings before he picked up.

  “Savannah.” Her heart stalled in her chest when she heard his voice. “You called.”

  She pressed her lips together, wondering if this was a mistake. But tonight made her realize that she wanted the peace Will offered. Savannah was tired of being burned by Walter’s fire.

  “Why? Why now?”

  He was silent. So silent that she wondered if he was still on the line.

  “Baby, I’ve been drinking.”

  She clenched her eyelids tight, disappointed in him once more. She got used to the girls he had after her, but his drinking hurt her the most. Because she had tried to stop him from poisoning himself, but he never did. The number of times she had to wake him after his drunken calls so he could shower off his drunk ass and get to class or practice. Savannah gave him everything she had, but he kept letting her down.

  “You’re always drinkin’,” she said, ensuring her voice did not reflect the emotions that were tidal waves in her chest.

  “I know, baby. I always let you down,” Walter murmured, surprising her. His voice was filled with hurt. He sounded lost, unlike the Walter who played her in college. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

  The small ounce of hope in her chest glowed, believing every word. “What for? You don’t love me, Walter. You’ve said it for years.”

  “What if I’ve been lying?” His voice strengthened as she heard the life in it. “What if I’ve been lying to you for years, Savannah?”

  A small gasp escaped her. Walter lying about loving her? It was unbelievable. “Then you’re a really good liar, but we both know you’re drunk right now.”

  “I’ve had a bottle or two. Nothing I can’t handle.” The sound of glass breaking came from his end. “Fuck.”

  Concern washed over her. It was instantaneous, a natural reflex when it came to loving him. “Are you okay?”

  “Fuck, Savannah, I miss you,” he groaned. “I could love you so good, baby. Give me another chance. I’m better now. I s-swear I am.”

  Part of her wanted to believe him—believe in the good he used to be and knew he could be—but he had to want to help himself first, and that was never the case with Walter. Because he didn’t want to help himself. He was slurring, so drunk he couldn’t speak properly.

  There’s no fixing a man like that. He has to save himself first. Her father’s advice returned to her. He never knew it was Walter she had fallen in love with. Savannah had lied to him and said he was a friend’s boyfriend from work.

  She tightened her grip on her phone. Maybe he needed more than just help. Maybe she should give him some sort of belief to push him to want to get help. To want to be better than he was. Maybe this was him reaching out and Savannah was holding onto her pride too tightly to help him. “Until you can prove it to me, then I don’t believe you.”

  “You want me to prove it to you?”

  Savannah nodded. “Yes.”

  “You need me to fuck you, baby? To show you how much I miss the sweetest pussy I’ve ever made come?” Walter didn’t falter. The son of a bitch was gloating. Even drunk, he knew how to ruin everything. “You need to choke on my fat cock as you take it in your tight throat, reminding you that you’ve never had better than me? Because I will fucking come to Vermont right now. I’ll give you all the orgasms you want, baby. You know I always do. Your perfect pussy needs my cock.”

  Her nostrils flared as anger punched her in the stomach. The heat in her wanted to explode. He’d just cheapened her attempt to reach out. She prayed God listened to her and made sure that tomorrow his drunk ass forgot that Savannah was weak enough to call him.

  Gave him a chance that he threw away. Well, she was taking this chance too. The chance to finally be clean of him.

  “Fuck. You. Walter!” she hissed before she hung up and dropped her phone on the couch. Rubbing her palms over her face, she groaned, frustrated with how it unfolded.

  But there was a silver lining to all of tonight’s mistakes.

  She wasn’t going to make them again.

  Thirteen

  Will

  Will hadn’t handled last night properly.

  He’d spent a restless night lying in bed, replaying his night with Savannah. It had started out perfect. She had given him a mug to remember their day at the planetarium by. When he had bought her telescope, he had no idea that setting it up would result in him finding out that his client was the man she was in love with.

  Walter Vidović.

  Will shouldn’t have been surprised that she was in love with a man like Walter. He was famous, successful, and lived a luxurious life. Someone like Walter was interesting. Someone like Will was not. For the first time in years, he allowed the memory of Rebecca breaking up with him to resurface and hurt him. Savannah’s words weakened him. That tiny hope that maybe Savannah felt more for him died last night. It was evident that he couldn’t make friends work. Knowing that she was in love with his client, Will knew he had to nip his growing affections for her in the bud.

  Will had worked hard to have and keep a client as big as Walter Vidović. He would not disrespect him or Savannah by attempting to justify his feelings with actions. The way Savannah acted, he knew their relationship ran deep and had substance that Will could never touch. So he wouldn’t. It wasn’t as if he would see Savannah after today. The only time they ever saw each other was when his cousin had any events or they happened to be in Boston at the same time. And before he fell asleep last night, Will decided he would stay as far away from her as he could.

  One weekend with Savannah Peters wouldn’t change his life.

  It was just a weekend, he repeated when he showered and got ready to check out of his hotel. It was now Monday, and he was leaving Boston and his weekend with Savannah behind him. He had met with Emerson in the hotel’s restaurant for breakfast before she left for New York. Will had initially planned to take the train with his partner but decided to spend time with his goddaughter before he went home. Will wasn’t sure when he’d see Miller again, but he knew it wouldn’t be until her second birthday in over three months’ time.


  Turning his wrist over, he looked down at his watch to see that it was eight thirty in the morning. Will should have waited, but impatience festered in his heart. He hadn’t wanted to wait around the hotel, so he got in a cab to see Savannah and Miller. But he knew the real reason he was so anxious. He wanted to make sure Savannah was okay. That him ending their short-lived friendship didn’t hurt her the way it had hurt him. Will regretted his choice the moment he turned away, but he knew it was for the best.

  He couldn’t lose a high-profile client, and he wouldn’t subject Savannah to any hurt should Walter ever think feelings were involved. Feelings Will was sure only he had. Pressing his lips together, he raised his hand, formed a fist, and knocked lightly on the door—deciding against using the doorbell just in case they were still asleep. If they were, Will would go to a café close by until she and Miller were ready for him to visit.

  Suddenly, the door opened, and Savannah’s small, hesitant smile greeted him. “Hi.”

  It was a whisper of pain he heard in her voice, and he saw it in her sad eyes.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, causing her eyes to widen.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Savannah, I can see it on your face. You’re upset. Did I …?” he trailed off, not wanting to assume he was capable of hurting her.

  Savannah opened the door wider for him. “We should talk about last night.”

  Will didn’t really want to. He had said everything he needed to, but he was aware that she hadn’t said much. He never gave her a chance to as he had hightailed it out of the house so he could escape her wounded expression.

  “Okay,” Will agreed as he picked up his suitcase and entered his cousin’s home. Then he set his luggage by the wall and spun around to find Savannah closing the door. “Is Millie awake?”

  She shook her head as she led him to the living room. “No. I just checked on her. She’s still asleep. I have the monitor on the coffee table so I can keep an eye on her. It’s next to your mug that you left behind last night. I’ll wake her up soon. Did you want some coffee?”