Only One Chance

by Madison, Natasha

  “Are you pregnant?” I ask her, taking a sip of coffee and waiting for it to finally seep into my veins and wake me up a little.

  “I am not pregnant,” she says. “And I will not get pregnant unless I’m married.”

  “You can still wear white down the aisle even if you have a kid.” I point at her. “It’s the twenty-first century.”

  “Good to know,” she says and then leans back on the counter and puts her coffee cup down. “Now, let’s talk about last night.”

  “Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “Can we not? I don’t even remember coming home.” I look around. “Like, how did I even get here?”

  “I drove you home.” She fills me in. “You did the whole mic drop when we walked you into the door,” she reminds me, and the memories come flooding back. Well, some of them.

  “You walked me into the house and didn’t think to help me change?” I shake my head. “Some friend you are.”

  “You started singing ‘I am woman, hear me roar.’” She points at me, and another memory is put into place, and I laugh.

  “That is always a good song. That and ‘No Scrubs.’” I take another sip of coffee. “God, how much did I drink at that event?”

  She grabs her cup of coffee, and I can swear she is like a cat that ate the canary because she just looks at me. “I would say enough.”

  “Why don’t they serve food at those events?” I ask her, and the doorbell rings. I look at her, and she just shrugs. “Well, you can’t expect me to get the door. I’m naked.” I use my hands to point at my robe.

  She pushes off from the counter and walks to the door. I peek around the corner, seeing the man standing there with a huge bouquet. “How many?” I hear Candace ask, and then she gasps. “Fifty.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he says, handing her the bouquet, and she turns around and spots me standing here.

  “You got flowers.” She holds up the huge bouquet of red roses that she has in her hands.

  I clap my hands together. “Ohh, I love flowers. There must be at least two hundred in that,” I say. “I must have been pretty fucking outstanding to get that bouquet,” I say and then hear another knock on the door and see the man coming in with another one. “I must have drained that snake over and over.” I wink at her as he puts down the two and then walks back out. It takes him thirty minutes to unload the fifty bouquets that are now all over my house. Every single color of roses that are out there are now in my house. From white to red to black to blue to even rainbow. There is not one space left that doesn’t have flowers. “It smells like a flower shop in here.” I look at her, shocked.

  “Who do you think they’re from?” she asks, and I shrug.

  “I have no idea. I mean, to be honest, I haven’t been with anyone in the past couple of months.” I go from one to the other, looking for a card, and so does Candace.

  “Found it,” she says and looks at me. “Can I read it?”

  “I mean, I guess so. It’s not like you don’t know how awesome and amazing I am,” I say, looking around the house with my hands outstretched. “We also have to take a picture of this to show my future husband.” Candace's mouth drops open. “He obviously has to beat this if he’s going to marry me. God, Candace. I am shallow enough to admit I will throw this in his face, and we haven’t even met yet.” I shrug. “He has no idea that this will be brought up for the rest of his life.”

  She shakes her head and opens the white envelope and takes out the card. “Here are twenty-five thousand reasons to go out with me. Can’t wait to cash in my voucher.” She falls forward, laughing hysterically.

  “Cash in a voucher?” I ask, looking around. “Who the hell sent them?” I place my hands on my hips.

  “Oh, this is too good,” she says, laughing. “I wish I could have this on video so you can see your face when I tell you.”

  “Tell me what?” I ask with my hands in the air.

  “Last night at the event …” she starts to say and stops talking, looking to see if I remember anything.

  “Yes, an event that was uneventful.” I open my eyes wide. “An event where I think the champagne was expired.”

  “There was nothing wrong with the champagne,” Candace says. “Except maybe you had too much of it.”

  “Tomato, tomatoe,” I say to her.

  “I can’t believe that you don’t remember.” She laughs, holding her stomach.

  “Would you stop being so vague and just fucking tell me?” I shout now.

  “Well, there was an auction,” she says, and I gasp when she looks at me.

  “Did I win the tickets to the All-Star game?” I cross my fingers. “Please tell me I won.”

  “Oh, you won, all right,” she mumbles. “There was the auction and …” she starts to say slowly. I just look at her, and I try to remember anything, but it’s just coming up blank. “Well, it started at fifty cents,” she tells me, “then it went all the way up to twenty-five thousand dollars.”

  “Holy shit, who the hell would bid twenty-five thousand dollars?” I ask, crossing my hands over my chest. And like a wave crashing into the sand, it all comes back to me. Sitting at the table, listening to those women bid on him. One trying to outbid the other like it was a pissing contest. The blonde who bid five thousand dollars, sitting there so smug. Like she owned the world just because she could bid that much. Then the sound of my voice echoes in my ears, followed by Nico’s sold.

  I gasp out and shout. “Nooooo,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Oh, but yes,” Candace says. “Twenty-five thousand dollars.”

  “Oh my God,” I say, putting my hands on my knees. “Oh my God, how could you make me do that?”

  “How could I make you do that?” she asks me. “How can you do that? You hate him.”

  “I know,” I tell her.

  “Every single time he’s asked you out, you denied him.”

  “You’re not telling me anything that I don’t know, Candace. I have to call Nico,” I say, looking around for my phone. “I have to call him and tell him that I’m sorry, but that was a mistake.” I rush around the house looking for my phone. My heart speeds up in my chest, my palms sweaty, and then I have the sudden urge to vomit when I pick up my phone and see the top notification.

  Thank you so much for your donation of twenty-five thousand dollars. Your bid has now been accepted.

  Chapter 6

  Miller

  The door shuts behind me as I make my way into the practice facility. My phone’s in my hand as I look for pictures of last night, hoping that I find one of just the two of us. “Hey, there he is.” I look up, seeing one of the rookies who was for auction yesterday come out of the kitchen. “Mr. Twenty-five K.”

  I laugh at the nickname. “That would be me.”

  “It was insane.” He starts to tell me, and I half-listen because I finally find a picture of us. She stands beside me, and all I can see is her leg coming out. I save the picture and send it to her with the caption.

  Me: This is what twenty-five K looks like.

  “So where do you think you’re going to take her?” he asks, and I stop walking when we get to the door of the team’s changing room. “For twenty-five K, you better get a private jet and fly her to Italy for pizza.” He walks into the changing room, leaving me in the middle of the hallway, thinking.

  “I can smell wood burning.” I hear Ralph as he walks toward me, and I look up at him. “Jesus, did someone kick your dog?”

  “I don’t have a dog,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Then why the sad face?” he asks, stopping beside me but not before I look over his shoulder and see Manning coming in.

  He’s dressed in a tracksuit. “I thought this was an optional skate?”

  “It is,” Manning says. “But what does it say when your captain doesn’t show up?” He looks at us. “What is going on here?”

  “I was thinking about where to take Layla on our date.” I look at the two of them.

  Ralph laughs. “T
he question you should be asking yourself is if she is actually going to let you take her out?”

  “She has no choice. She bought me.” I point at myself.

  “Don’t say that again,” Manning says, shaking his head. “You sound like a piece of meat.”

  “Seriously, guys, I have to wow the shit out of her.” My stomach starts to sink, and I open Safari on my phone. “Siri,” I say, pressing the button. “Tell me the top ten romantic things to do on a date.” The two of them laugh out loud. “Don’t knock this; you might get ideas.”

  “My idea of a romantic date is sitting down with Candace, just her and me and being next to her,” Ralph says, and Manning looks at him.

  “My idea of a romantic date is not having my so-called wife at home,” Manning says. “Just me and my boy watching Netflix.”

  “Why do you even put up with her?” Ralph asks him. It’s a question that everyone who knows him probably asks themselves.

  “The last time I sent her divorce papers, she destroyed them, then she used my kid against me.” He shakes his head. “It’s not for much longer. Just until he can understand.”

  “Kids understand more than you know,” Ralph says to him.

  “Okay, can we focus on me, please?” I say now, throwing my hands in the air. “I finally get a shot with Layla, and I have to make it count.”

  “What does it say on the list?” Ralph asks, and I look down at the phone in my hand.

  “Hit up a bar,” I read, and they laugh.

  “So she can drown her sorrow,” Manning says. “What about number two?”

  “Go grocery store shopping,” I say, confused. “I’m not doing that. Take a boxing class together.”

  “You really want to put Layla in boxing gloves?” Ralph looks at me. “I haven’t known her as long as you guys, but that sounds like a terrible idea.” He grabs the phone from me, reading off the list. “Dude, this list is not anything I would do. One of them is play hide-and-seek.”

  “Oh,” I say, smiling. “Naked. We can do it naked.”

  “You’ll be lucky if she shows up. You are pushing it if you think she is going to do it naked,” Manning says. “I bet you ten thousand dollars that will never happen.”

  “I double that,” Ralph says, still going through the list. “Go ax throwing.” He laughs. “Are these romantic things or ways for your date to kill you?”

  I grab my phone from him. “This looks fun. Go to the zoo.” I look up at them.

  “So she can feed you to the lions,” Manning says, and I give up, putting my phone away now.

  “Was she okay when you dropped her off last night?” I ask, and he nods his head. “Did she say anything?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “She said that it’s ridiculous that they would offer people drinks and allow them to bid on stuff.” I laugh now, seeing her face in my head. “She also said that the debutants need to get off your dick.”

  My eyes light up. “She was thinking about my dick.” I slap him on the shoulder. “I knew she wanted me.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Ralph says. “She also said that you’re gross, and you should be bathing in Purell.”

  “Now that,” Manning says. “That’s love.”

  “I know.” I agree with him. “I’m going to send her flowers.” I grab my phone. “One thousand roses.” I look at them as their mouths hang open. “Is that overkill?”

  “No.” Ralph shakes his head. “Anything less is not even worth it.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” I say, walking away from them as I order them. I walk back into the room and see both of them lacing up their skates. “Order has been placed, boys.”

  “To be a fly on the wall,” Manning says. Getting up with his skates, he towers over six feet six. He turns, grabbing his gloves and helmet, and makes his way out to the ice.

  Ralph and I follow him a couple of minutes later, and we are all on the ice. It’s not a full roster today since it was optional, but we push the ones who are here hard, and when I walk off the ice, I’m drenched in sweat.

  The rookies are still on the ice as I sit down with Ralph beside me, his phone pinging. He grabs it, taking off his gloves and helmet. His head goes back and he laughs. “She didn’t remember.”

  “What?” I ask him, grabbing a bottle of Gatorade and gulping it down.

  “Layla didn’t remember bidding on you.” He chuckles. “She is going nuts.”

  “But did she get the flowers?” I ask him.

  “Oh, she got the flowers all right.” He looks at me. “She’s going to make potpourri with them after she shoves them up your ass.”

  “That woman loves me.” My chest expands as I take my shirt off. “It’s like elementary school when she says she hates you, but she really secretly loves you.”

  I grab my phone and see that I have fifty messages, and I laugh when I scroll and see that they are all from Layla.

  Layla: How the hell did you get my number?

  I laugh because, for the past four years, she’s been giving me the wrong number every single time.

  Layla: Are you out of your fucking mind?

  Layla: I’m not going out with you.

  Layla: If you look at the picture, it looks like I’m going to vomit.

  Layla: I’m not going out with you.

  Layla: I’m not going out with you.

  She repeats the text over forty times. I put my phone down and go take a shower. When I come out, it looks like Manning and Ralph have left, and I’m alone. After I get dressed and walk out, I head out to my truck and call her once I climb inside.

  Just the thought of talking to her makes my heart speed up. She answers after five rings. “What do you want?”

  “Good afternoon, gorgeous,” I say, ignoring her snippiness. “How are you doing?”

  “How am I doing?” she asks, and I can tell she’s flustered. “I’m not doing good.”

  “Are you sick?” I ask as suddenly something in me makes my head spin.

  “No, I’m not sick,” she huffs out. “Well, actually, maybe I am sick.” She groans. “Maybe I have a brain tumor, and I don’t even know. I mean, why else would I have done what I did?”

  I laugh now. “Or maybe, you actually like me and want to date me, and your subconscious is finally breaking free.”

  “No,” she says right away. “I’m going with a brain tumor. I have to go and call my doctor.”

  “Gorgeous,” I say softly, and when all I get is silence, I look at the phone to see if she hung up on me or not. “Are you still there?”

  “Miller, seriously, all jokes aside, this is a horrible, horrible idea,” she says, and I have to wonder if she’s home, and if she is home, is she sitting down with flowers all around her? Is she in bed, is she naked and thinking about me?

  “This is not a horrible idea!” I yell. “This is the best idea that you have ever had.”

  “No, it’s not!” she yells back at me. “Going to Cabo and sitting on the beach was a good idea. Me bidding twenty-five K to go on a date with you has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. And I woke up one day with a tattoo.”

  I smile now. “A tattoo?” My voice comes out smooth. “I’ve never seen it.”

  “And you will never see it,” she huffs out. “Ever.”

  “Oh, I think this is a challenge.” I clap my hands together.

  “There is no challenge!” she shouts. “There is nothing going on here.”

  “Oh, there is something going on here.” I put the car in park. “Something big, and I can’t wait for you to finally see it, gorgeous.” She groans. “Be ready tonight. I’ll be there at eight.”

  “No!” she shouts.

  “See you later, gorgeous,” I say and hang up the phone, smiling to myself. I get out of the truck and make my way over to the gym, where my trainer is waiting.

  I walk in, and the cold air hits me right away. “You are five minutes late,” he says, and I look down and see he’s right. “Get on the treadmill.” I
nod at him, and for the next two hours, he pushes me until my legs feel like Jell-O.

  “It’s a good fucking thing I don’t have to get back on the ice until Tuesday.” My chest heaves up and down as I swallow a whole bottle of water. Sweat from my face drips down, and the phone beeps.

  I walk over to the weight bench that has my keys, wallet, and phone, and I smile when I see Layla texted me.

  Layla: One date. See you at eight.

  I smile to myself like a giddy teenager. I knew she wanted me, I think to myself. “Come to Daddy.”

  Chapter 7

  Layla

  Did he just hang up on me? I look down at the phone and see that the screen saver picture is up. How dare he hang up on me. I get up, storming over to my bedroom and falling on the bed, then turn to the side and see that it’s just a little after one in the afternoon. I’ve just spent the past three hours trying to forget about what I did last night.

  But the minute I try to forget, I take a deep breath, and all I can do is smell flowers. It brings me right back to the memories of last night. Sitting at the table watching all the women and then something happening, and I couldn’t explain it. Bidding on him for twenty-five fucking thousand dollars, I close my eyes. Not only that, but I made the payment on the way to the car. They should have a code word before making a purchase that big. Like, were you or are you of sound mind. Because if I’d had that option, I would have failed.

  I walked into the house and had a one-on-one with Don Julio, who did nothing but make me forget. He made sure that when I woke up this morning, the memories came slowly.

  My phone pings, and I look down, seeing that it’s a text from Miller, and I sit up in my bed. How did he get my number? For the past four years, I’ve given him a different number each time. Each time, he would blow up that number and then ask me why I never answered. I would laugh at him and inform him that he took it down wrong.

  I call Candace, who answers right away, whispering, “Did you give Miller my phone number?” I hear a door close softly.