by Leigh James
After he left, I couldn't go back to sleep. I sat on my bed, replaying the images from that night over and over in my head…again. What Eric said was true—I was calm about Jess and Pax's pictures, and this girl was the difference.
I just needed to figure out what that meant.
* * *
AVERY
"You look lovely," Chase said as I went out to meet him and Eric. He held out his big hand to me, smiling. What a difference forty-eight hours, five quarts of alcohol and a little pokey-pokey made. He was being positively civilized.
I was shaky from the conversation with my sister, but I tried to hide it as we headed out to an SUV waiting in the drive. The driver opened the door for us, and we piled in. "Kind of reminds me of the other night," Eric said. "Anybody want a drink?"
"No," Chase and I said at the same time.
Eric laughed. "You two. Cute." He gave me a quick, knowing glance that made me blush. Either Chase had told him that we'd spent the night together, or he'd seen enough at the club to guess.
"So," Eric said, turning to Chase. "We're looking at a couple of condos in the Leather District. Very trendy, modern, in up-and-coming buildings. I called the Gazette and a couple of the local sports blogs, so they know we're doing this. We should expect some coverage." He glanced through the back window, his glasses glinting in the sunlight. There was a line of cars pulling out after us, clogging the residential Wellesley street. "Looks like we already have some admirers."
Chase glanced out the window. "My neighbors must hate me."
"Your neighbors won't care, so long as you win the Super Bowl," Eric said. "So what we're looking for right now are two different things. First, we need to see if you actually want to live in one of these places. Second, we need to show you and Avery looking very much in love, like you're thrilled to be shopping for a home together. Are you two okay? Or are you still too hungover?"
"I'm fine," I said immediately. It's been an interesting couple of days. I'd finally been gloriously, properly fucked by star quarterback Chase Layne, who now says I don't ever have to 'service' him again…and he's currently sitting next to me with all of his big muscles bulging in plain sight, just out of my reach, taunting me and my lady parts. And speaking of being fucked, I'm about to be royally, unscrupulously fucked over by my blackmailing sister. Because apparently she doesn't care if I have to suck cock in order to buy her a pocketbook. But I'm fine, Eric, really! Thank you so much for asking. You and your stupid purple shots and your shiny designer glasses and your smug lack of a hangover…
"It's cool," Chase said, breaking my reverie. "but I think I'd also like to look at some of the Beacon Hill listings. Some of the more traditional stuff."
"But the Leather District is a hot market right now," Eric countered. "We're trying to show the public Chase Layne 2.0. A new and improved you with a trendy loft and a hot, new girlfriend."
"But vintage Chase doesn't want to live in a loft with exposed pipes. He likes classic," Chase said and laughed. "And he's paying for it, so he gets a say."
"Don't talk about yourself in the third person," Eric warned. "You know I hate it when you do that."
A grin spread over Chase's face. "Chase Layne wouldn't do that to you."
Eric shook his head. "Jesus Christ. You drive me crazy."
"Chase doesn't want to drive you crazy, but he does want to look at real estate in Beacon Hill," Chase said, continuing to taunt Eric.
"Um," I said, interrupting them, "I have a question." I decided to shove the errant, problematic thoughts from my head and focus on business.
"Please," Eric said, "anything to make him stop. Shoot."
"What's going to happen when I'm done working for you guys?" I blurted out, unable to keep the words from tumbling out. This issue had been bothering me since Elena told me about the assignment, but the long line of press cars following us and my sister's escalating set of demands made it seem more pertinent. I needed this to work so I could get paid and get out of this situation in one piece—and Chase did, too. "Isn't everyone going to know that this was all an act?"
Chase looked stymied, and Eric looked vaguely thoughtful. "We're still figuring out the exit strategy," he said.
"We are?" Chase asked. He shrugged. "I hate to admit it, but I was so worried about getting this whole thing started, I hadn't started worrying about how to end it."
Eric patted him on the arm. "We'll handle it when the time comes, buddy. You don't need to worry about it, either, okay Avery? We're just getting warmed up. Let's relax and enjoy the ride." He smiled knowingly at me. Enjoy the ride, indeed.
He turned back to Chase. "Your relationship will seem more natural if we don't plan the whole thing out. Like there's really something going on between you to." He gave his friend a long, probing look. "Unless of course, we don't need to worry about that because something is going on with you two…"
I felt myself start to blush, and Chase scowled at Eric. "Stop digging."
Eric held his hands up in mock defeat. "Whatever you say, Boss."
We drove through Chinatown into the sleek Leather District. Industrial and more traditional, brick buildings intermixed and soared, side-by-side, into the skyline. We pulled down Beach Street, past a wine bar and a high-tech office, and parked. "This is it," Eric said, hopping out and motioning to an impressive high-rise.
A handsome, well-dressed man waved toward us from down the street. The sun glinted off of his dark skin and accentuated the whiteness of his teeth when he smiled.
"Is that the broker?" Chase asked. "He dresses better than you, Eric."
"Can you stop talking now?" Eric asked, watching the broker. "That is a nice suit, though."
The man reached us and held out his hand to Chase. "I'm Jackson Pryce."
Chase grabbed his hand. "Chase Layne."
Jackson's polite smile turned into a grin. "I'm a huge fan. Are we looking good this year?"
"As soon as I get back out onto the field, we'll be looking a lot better." He motioned to me. "This is my girlfriend, Avery. And my agent, Eric Taylor."
"A pleasure," Jackson said. "Let's go take a look at this unit. It's top-of-the-line. Unless you want to wait for these gentlemen." He motioned toward the cars that were pulling up behind ours, cameramen spilling out of them.
"We can wait for a minute," Eric said. He positioned me next to Chase and smoothed both of our hair while he continued to talk to the broker. "What's the neighborhood like?"
"Very nice," Jackson said. "Upscale. It's a younger crowd that's moving in down here. They like the industrial style of the buildings."
"You got anything in Beacon Hill?" Chase asked him conspiratorially.
Jackson pointed at him. "I pegged you for a Beacon-Hill type. I have a classic townhouse. All the bells, whistles, and wainscoting you could hope for."
"That's sounds nice," Chase said. He turned to me. "Doesn't that sound nice, babe?"
I had no idea what sort of bells and whistles there would be, but I loved the Beacon Hill neighborhood, and I was somewhat stupidly thrilled that he'd just called me babe. "It does. But we should look at this one, too. I think Eric really wants to see it."
Eric shrugged a little defensively. "I like modern."
"Maybe you can finally buy a place up here so you don't always have to crash with me," Chase said. A few photographers had sidled up near us, and Chase casually threw his arm around me. "This is Jackson Pryce," he called pointing at the broker. "He's with Boston Premiere Realty. Best in the business. Now if you'll excuse us, Avery and I are looking for a new home." He squeezed me close, and we both smiled for the photographers. My worries about Lila lifted; the sun on my face and Chase's arm around me were like a balm.
We entered the lobby of the building. It was beautiful but austere with soaring windows and ultra-modern light fixtures. We went into the industrial-sized elevator, and as soon as the doors were closed, Chase turned to Jackson. "I can already tell this is not a good fit." He looked at Eric. "This is al
l you, buddy. You buy this one. I'll buy the Beacon Hill one."
"Sounds good to me," Jackson said, beaming.
Eric sighed and rolled his eyes. "Just give it a chance." We entered the massive space on the third floor, and I was impressed by the views of the district and the financial buildings beyond, and the exposed brick and the extremely high-end kitchen. Chase turned to me. "What do you think? Could you see yourself growing old with me here?"
For some reason, his words cut me. But I bravely plastered a smile on my face. "I like it, but it's not my style. But if you like it, that's all that matters."
Chase put his arm around me and turned to Jackson. "It's not for us. Sorry. Can we head over to the one on Beacon Hill?"
Jackson flashed us a brilliant smile. "I like to see two people on the same page. A lot of the couples I show places to want completely different things, and I always know it's going to end badly. But you two…"
Chase smiled at the broker and squeezed me against him protectively. "We're cute. We know. So…let's get out of here. Between the club the other night and this condo, I'm starting to feel old and out of place. Maybe a house with some history will do me good."
We left and drove to Charles Street, and I looked at the gorgeous homes with longing. The Beacon Hill neighborhood boasted classic Bostonian architecture, charming and grand. Pristine brick houses lined the streets, with classic shutters and window boxes filled with flowers. I could picture Chase living in this neighborhood with his beautiful wife and adorable children.
Chase let out a low whistle as we pulled up to the curb. He looked at a striking brick-faced home. "Now this is what I'm talking about. What do you think, Avery?"
I swallowed hard. "This is a gorgeous neighborhood." I will never live anywhere like this.
"I like it, too," Eric said. "I'd love to get you in a trendy loft, but even I can admit that this is more your style."
Jackson was waiting at the top of the granite steps. "Chase Layne, welcome home. You and Avery go ahead and take a walk through the house. I think you're going to love it, but I want you to see for yourselves. I'll be waiting for you out here. Come find me when you're done."
"I only have one question," Chase said. "How much is this going to cost me?"
Jackson beamed at him. "Eight-point-five million."
Chase opened his mouth, closed it, then smiled tightly. "I don't know if my ex is going to leave me with that much, but we'll go take a look." He reached out and grabbed my hand, leading me through the door. We entered the massive foyer, which had black and white floors, a stunning staircase and an enormous crystal chandelier. "This is a little formal, don't you think?"
I nodded. "But if you lived here, you'd make it homey. There would be sneakers and football pads everywhere. And beer. Much less stiff."
"I can picture the sneakers." His eyes sparkled at the inner vision. "And the beer." He kept his hand clamped over mine as we went through the rest of the house. Chase seemed enamored by the architectural details of the home.
"Look at these," he said, examining the light fixtures in one of the halls. "I can't tell if these are original or not, but they match the house so well." He turned to me. "Do you like this kind of stuff? Or do you just think I'm crazy?"
"I do like this kind of stuff," I said. "But you're awfully excited about the light fixtures." He grinned at me, and I couldn't help but grin back. I hadn't imagined that the big, sexy quarterback was an architecture nerd.
"When I bought the house in Wellesley, it was for convenience. It was an easy drive to the stadium." He shrugged. "I mean, I liked it, but it wasn't a big deal. And then Jessica decorated it, and I didn't like it as much anymore." He examined some floor-to-ceiling built-in bookcases before turning to me. "She posted some pictures of her and Pax on social media today. They were hanging all over each other."
"Oh… Chase, I'm sorry."
"She's probably pissed about our pics from the other night." He shook his head. "I'm fine with it. Their relationship was going to come out sooner or later."
"Are you worried about the team?" Eric had explained further why they'd hired me. Chase was worried about how his wife's transgressions were going to impact the Warriors.
"Everybody keeps texting me about how hot you are." He pulled out his phone and scrolled through it. "I haven't read all these new messages, but it looks like they're saying the same thing. That Pax is a douche."
"So, that's good," I offered. Except for the part where your wife's sleeping with your teammate and posting it all over social media. And the fact that you're going back to practice with him in a couple of days.
"Hiring you is working out better than I thought." His face reddened when he realized that there was a double meaning there. "Seems like we're making the best of a bad situation," he coughed.
"Good," I said, trying to soothe him. "I'll be so happy if I can actually help."
Chase coughed again, still red, and turned back to the bookcase. "I've always wanted a house like this. It would be a dream come true."
We went into the kitchen, and he inspected each item, finally stopping at the refrigerator. "This is the biggest refrigerator I've ever seen. I think this could be the house for me." He looked at me. "By the way, Avery, can you cook?"
I nodded. "Nothing too fancy, but I can make the basics. I did all the cooking in my house growing up." I decided not to mention why that was, or that for the last three years, my diet had consisted largely of Ramen noodles, fast-food cheeseburgers and crackers stolen from the Sizzling Ranch.
"Can you make lasagna?" he asked hopefully.
I smiled at him. "I can make a pretty mean lasagna."
"That's awesome. I've been eating nothing but takeout…" His voice trailed off longingly.
"I'll make it for you."
"Soon?" His eyes glittered with excitement.
I laughed. He was a big, tough quarterback, but he was really being a baby about a lasagna. "Sure."
We continued with our tour of the home. We went up the grand staircase, and a chill went through me. I could picture kids playing up here, looking through the rails down at their parents. Each bedroom we entered was sunny and perfect. What would it be like to live in a house like this?
I was never going to find out, and I knew it. This was a different world from mine. A mere fifty-thousand dollars—more money than I'd ever had in my whole life—wasn't going to bridge the gap.
We went outside and found Jackson and Eric seated on the steps, enjoying the sun. "We'll take it," Chase told them.
We'll take it. I shivered. Chase sure was good at putting on a show.
Jackson clapped him on the back. "I knew this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
Chapter Twelve
CHASE
Jackson and I settled on a preliminary offer. He said he'd get back to me soon, and if everything went smoothly, we could probably close in a few weeks.
Things were moving fast, but that was fine by me. Onward and upward.
Eric paced down the sidewalk nearby, on a call with a client. I looked at the sun glinting off Avery's hair as she peered around the neighborhood. "It's such a great day," I said. "Do you want to go to the park?"
She turned to me and smiled. Which for some reason felt like she was punching me in the gut—in a good way, if that was possible. "Sure. That sounds nice."
"Then right this way, milady."
I jerked my chin at Eric. "We're walking. Take the car if you want. Catch you later."
He gave me the thumbs up and kept pacing.
One of the great things about this neighborhood was that it bordered the Common, which was the main park in Boston. It was filled with flowering trees and kids running around. The Common was centrally located in the city, close to Newbury Street's shops, restaurants and hotels, as well as the State House and the Freedom Trail. People didn't know it, but Boston was a walkable city. I'd be able to get to about a thousand restaurants from my new house, including my favorites in the
North End.
The press had come, taken some pictures, and gone. Civilians might be snapping pics of us on their cellphones, and that was fine. I laced my fingers through Avery's as we walked to the park. Eric had mentioned that there were new pictures of us being posted, but I didn't want to think about that now. I wanted to enjoy the sun. My limbs felt loose and relaxed.
It was because I'd finally gotten laid. And because it had been awesome.
"It's so beautiful," Avery said, taking in the purple, flowering trees. "I never come here."
"Me either. But that's going to change." I spotted something I'd forgotten about: the Swan Boats. "Do you want to take a ride?"
She looked surprised. "On the Swan Boats? I never have."
I squeezed her hand. "Let's do it. They don't do much—they just go back and forth, real slow."
"Perfect," she said.
We waited in line. A mom with two boys was in front of us. She kept trying to get them to stop staring. "Give them some privacy," she hissed.
One of them, who was probably eight, kept looking at me with big eyes.
"It's okay. I love kids," I told the mom.
"That's awfully nice of you." She beamed at me and turned to her son. "You can say 'hi'."
"Hi." The kid whipped off his baseball hat and held it out to me. "Will you sign my hat?"
"'Course, buddy," I said. "What's your name?"
"Tyler," he said, still staring at me. His eyes were huge in his face. "You're really big in real life, you know that? I have a lot of football cards and I watch all the games—and NFL Network—but I can't believe you're so big."
Avery smiled at the boy. "He eats a lot."
I smiled and handed him back his hat. "It's true. I do."
Tyler nodded. "I do, too."
"Do you drink milk?" I asked.
He nodded solemnly. "I love milk."
"I love milk, too. You wanna take a picture?"
"Yes." A huge smile broke out over his face. He came over, pulling his younger brother next to him and their mom snapped pictures, grinning the whole time. "This is so awesome," Tyler said. "This is the coolest thing that's ever happened to me."