Bad Reputation

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Bad Reputation Page 9

by Nicole Edwards


  Yeah. Well.

  Maybe I’m not that smart.

  Cassie

  I love coming home to Wisconsin. Spending time with Chase’s dads, laughing with my nieces, talking to my sister-in-law, pestering my brother. It makes me happy.

  The only part I tend to dread is facing my mother.

  I never know what sort of mood she’ll be in. Sometimes she’s relaxed and isn’t looking to start any drama, other times she’s in desperate need of a ticket on the crazy train. I’m not sure how this trip can be categorized yet. She’s seemed relatively sane for the most part and I’m doing my best not to ruin that. Hence the reason I agreed to stop by her house this morning before Chase and I head to the airport.

  All was going well until she jumped into her “relationships are the key to happiness” spiel.

  First of all, I’m not sure how she even believes half the shit she says she does. Based on her track record, relationships aren’t the key to anything except divorce and misery. Not that you’d know that by looking at her though. She does seem to be happy, if not a little kooky.

  Which is the very reason I’m thrilled that I won the bet. Or I would have been had it not been for the fact that my mother insisted that I come over and spend a little time with her by myself. I thought I’d found the perfect way to get out of this conversation by using Chase as my shield, but as it turns out, she’s pretty convincing.

  And now, as I sit with her in her kitchen, sipping Folger’s instant coffee—nasty—she’s bombarding me with questions about Chase.

  Personally, I’m trying to avoid her questions while I wait for Chase to show up so we can head to the airport for our eleven o’clock flight back to Texas.

  He’s late. Ten minutes, in fact.

  Of course his timing sucks when I need him the most.

  “I’m simply saying that you should really consider it, Cassie.” She leans forward and smiles. “I think if you just say the word, he’d be more than just a friend.”

  I lift my mug to my lips. Any excuse not to respond to that.

  “Is that not what you want? To find love and live happily ever after?”

  I knew that was coming. “I’m not looking for love. Plus, I don’t think that has anything do with happily ever after.”

  This is the exact same conversation I have with her every time we talk. Quite frankly, it’s wearing on my nerves.

  “I think you could have more with Chase. I saw him yesterday. He was doting on you like you were the most important woman in the world.”

  Sighing, I refrain from telling her about the bet. It would only make her ask more questions and I don’t care to have this conversation.

  “I mean, you do spend a lot of time together, do you not?”

  “We do, yes,” I tell her. “But I spend a lot of time with my other friends, too.” It’s not exactly the truth, but hey, it’s an answer.

  “Cassie, I’m no dummy. And I know when I see someone who’s in love.” Her painted-on eyebrows lift knowingly. “Chase wants more from you.”

  Rolling my eyes, I draw on all my patience. “Mom, let it go, please. We’re only friends and that’s all we’ll ever be.” I don’t bother to tell her that she’s obviously in need of glasses because her idea of someone in love is different from everyone else’s in the world.

  My mother blinks slowly then pins me with a get real look.

  “What? It’s true. There’s nothing to say that I can’t be happy with the way my life is right now. I’ve got a great job, I’ve got good friends, including Chase. I don’t need anything more than that.” Why won’t she just believe me?

  “Well, if you’d stop claiming to only be friends, you might actually find real happiness,” she states, lifting her white mug to her lips.

  “I’m not claiming anything.” I sigh. “We are friends, Mom.”

  “But you’re not dating,” she insists.

  “I…date.” I drop my gaze to the table. “Sometimes.”

  This time my mother sighs, her stern look softening. “I just don’t want you holding yourself back. That’s what you’ve done your entire life. And you’ve known Chase a long time. I think you’re fooling yourself.”

  I choke on my coffee. “No, Mom. I’m not. Chase and I—” Rather than continue this, I swallow hard. She doesn’t listen to anything I say, so I’m wasting my breath.

  I have never secretly pined away for Chase, but I cannot convince my mother of that. From the very beginning, I’ve made it clear we can only be friends. I have no interest in being yesterday’s news. I’d much rather have Chase as a friend than a previous lover. Of course, my mother refuses to believe that anything could possibly be wrong with a man who has the kind of money Chase has. And she doesn’t want to let up about it either.

  “I heard my name,” Chase announces when he walks into the room, coming to a stop behind my chair, his hands landing on my shoulders. “I hope you were saying nice things.”

  I keep my eyes on my mother, noticing the smile that lifts the corners of her mouth and makes the lines around her eyes more prominent. She looks like that every time she sees Chase. Bright-eyed, cheerful. Almost lustful, which is the creepiest thing ever and the major reason why I hate seeing my mother when Chase and I come to visit his fathers.

  “Well,” I say with a relieved exhale, setting my coffee cup on the table and pushing back my chair. “Off to the airport we go.” I turn and smile at Chase. “And not a minute too soon,” I mumble so only he can hear.

  —

  An hour later, Chase and I are walking toward the security line and I’m doing my best not to let my frustration show. I’m not sure how I’m faring, considering I wish I could click my heels together and be home without having to endure the flight and all the crap that comes along with traveling. Right now, I’d give anything for a glass of wine and a dark room.

  “Let me guess,” Chase says, falling into step beside me. “Your mom was at it again?”

  I puff out a breath that fans my hair. “It’s like that’s the only thing she can focus on.”

  It’s been that way my entire life. One man after another has traipsed through our lives. My mother isn’t happy unless she has a man, but she’s never with one long enough to develop a real relationship. It’s always based on intimacy—which is sickening to think about—and not friendship. A couple of them even moved in with us after the first date with my mother. It’s not any wonder why those didn’t last.

  You would think she’d be able to see that having a male friend is doable. Chase and I manage it perfectly. But instead, she likes to tell me that I’m broken. That no woman would ever want to just be friends with a man like Chase Barrett.

  A rich man like Chase Barrett.

  “Chief was at it, too,” Chase notes. “He caught on that I’m now your whipping boy.”

  I peer over at him as we shuffle forward. “How so?”

  “He asked if we’ve moved things out of the friend zone yet.”

  “Geez. Can they just be content with the fact that we’re friends?”

  Chase chuckles. “Hey, just be happy Dad is no longer asking if I think of you as a sister.”

  “Sister?” Ew.

  Okay, so maybe I don’t like the idea of Chase thinking of me as his sister. That’s creepy. Especially since I do find the guy attractive. And yes, if he was the last man on the planet and I needed to procreate in order to sustain human existence, I’d sleep with him. But only then.

  “What’d you tell him?” I ask, turning to face him so that I’m walking backward.

  “I told him I lost a bet.”

  Of course Chase was honest with his dads. They have that sort of relationship. Unfortunately I was too on the defensive with my mother to even think about it.

  Before I can tell him I envy his relationship with his dads, I turn around, noticing a kid standing on the other side of the rope, in the line moving the opposite direction. He’s staring at Chase with wide eyes. His mouth is hanging open. I nud
ge Chase with my elbow to get his attention.

  “Ooomph.” He grumbles and bends over. “What was that for?”

  “Oh, you big baby. I didn’t hit you that hard.” I try nodding my head in the kid’s direction, but Chase is ignoring me. I widen my eyes and implore him to look over at the kid.

  With a sigh of defeat, Chase glances over and shoots a smile at the kid.

  “You’re Chase Barrett,” the kid says in a hoarse whisper.

  “I am,” Chase confirms.

  The kid—couldn’t be more than thirteen, maybe fourteen—glances back at a woman who looks old enough to be his grandmother before turning back to Chase.

  “Can I…uh…have your autograph?”

  “Well, of course.”

  As always, Chase is prepared. He pulls out a Sharpie marker and turns to me.

  Okay, so maybe he’s not completely prepared.

  But I am.

  It takes a second, as I dig in my carry-on to find one of the pictures of him that I carry around for him. He always insists on signing autographs for kids and one time when we were out, he didn’t have anything to sign. Since then, I’ve learned to tuck a few into my purse or bag.

  Pulling one out, along with a promotional puck, I turn and hand them both to Chase.

  I can’t help but think as he starts up a conversation with the kid that Chase Barrett isn’t that bad a catch.

  Too bad the man refuses to be caught. He would definitely make some woman very happy.

  Of course, that woman will never be me.

  No matter what my mother wishes for.

  Chapter 10

  Chase

  THREE WEEKS LATER

  “Desrosiers! Where the hell’s my dinner, woman?” I shout when I step into Cassie’s house. “Or did you invite me over to cook for you?”

  Yes, I said that to remind her of the bet she made with me. She’s running out of time on getting me to do her bidding. Not that she hasn’t taken full advantage up to this point. She had me wash her car, pick up her dry cleaning three times, bring her and Natalie lunch at the office four times, and vacuum her house twice.

  She’s wearing me out.

  However, I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t mind doing things for Cassie. It’s helped to keep my mind off the playoffs and the fact that we’re not in them.

  “Don’t start with me, Barrett,” Cassie grumbles as I join her in the kitchen. “I just got off the phone with my mother.”

  “And?”

  Cassie glares at me. “She’s starting to freak me out.”

  “More so than usual?” I can’t help but tease her.

  Her expression doesn’t change. “She’s been researching you. I think you’re her new obsession.”

  “Oh, really?” A lot of people research me. They’ll find my salary and my career stats online, plus my date of birth and all that nonsense. I’m sure they could dig pretty deep should they choose to and find some more interesting details of my life, like who my third-grade teacher was, if they wanted to. My life’s an open book, whether I want it to be or not.

  “That doesn’t bother you?” Cassie questions.

  “Why should it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because it’s personal information and she’s trying to determine your net worth.”

  “It doesn’t bother me, Cass.” It really doesn’t. If I was worried that Cassie or her family were after my money, our friendship wouldn’t have made it this far. “And I thought you were going to avoid her until she moved on to another topic.”

  “I’d planned to. It’s just…”

  “Just what?”

  Cassie sighs. “I might’ve told her that we’re secretly in a relationship but that you don’t want anyone to know.”

  “What?” I think my jaw just hit the floor. It takes some effort to close my mouth. “Why did you do that?”

  “To get her off my back.”

  “And how does that help?”

  Cassie shrugs. “I’m hoping she’ll leave it alone if she thinks she’s in on a secret. But don’t worry. I fully intend to tell her the truth.”

  “When? Are you waiting for a zombie apocalypse or what?”

  She shakes her head, then pulls a beer from the fridge and passes it over. While I open it, she grabs her wineglass and leans against the counter. “No, I’m waiting until after Vegas.”

  Confused, I simply stare at her.

  “I figure if it’ll keep her out of my hair for the next couple of weeks, I can let it ride. She’s gloating that she’s right. I got onto her about it and she promised she wouldn’t say anything more. And you know my mother. She never promises anything. So, I figure I’ll take advantage of that. If she’s forbidden to talk about it, she can’t bug me.”

  “Really?” I lean back and watch her, smiling. “Well, then, I’m going to tell my dads that we’re in a relationship, but you don’t want anyone to know.”

  “Ah, crap.” Cassie frowns. “You don’t think they’ll find out? They don’t talk to her, do they?”

  “No, but if your mom does spill the beans, your brother’s going to find out. And he does talk to my dads.”

  I can see the guilt is eating away at her. I know she wouldn’t have said anything if she thought it could go that far.

  Laughing, I move closer and pull her into a hug. She doesn’t hug me back, but she does rest her head on my chest. “It’ll be fine. Maybe your mom will stay out of the way for a while. And if my dads hear about it, I’ll tell them the truth. They’ve met your mother. They’ll understand.”

  That pulls a laugh from her, so I push back and smile.

  “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

  “Spaghetti and meatballs.”

  I clutch my chest with one hand. “You do love me.”

  She smirks. “I did it because it was easy.”

  “Right. Not because you’re totally head over heels for me and I’m swearing you to secrecy.”

  Cassie points at the bar. “Sit.”

  I sit.

  I watch as she dishes up the pasta and sauce before carrying it over. I remain seated while she stands on the other side of the island.

  “What? No bread sticks?”

  “Shit.” Turning, she grabs an oven mitt and darts the three steps to the oven. Seconds later, she drops a pan of semi-burnt breadsticks onto the counter. “I totally forgot.”

  Not caring one bit that the bread is blackened on the bottom, I grab one and rip the end off with my teeth. “What’s got you so on edge?” I ask, my mouth full. “Besides your mother.”

  “We’re a week out from Vegas,” she says, twirling her spaghetti on her fork. “I’m stressed.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  Cassie lifts her head and looks at me. A genuine smile tugs at her mouth and the lines around her eyes soften. “No. But thank you for offering.”

  “Well, if you do,” I say, holding up my fork, “just let me know. I’m sure I can figure out how to use a computer.” I grin. “You know, once you turn it on for me.”

  Cassie rolls her eyes, as I expected her to. I’m not a complete dumbass. I’m relatively decent when it comes to technology. Not nearly as good as Cass, but I can hold my own.

  “I have your itinerary for Vegas. I got it today. I’ll send it to you.”

  I nod, chewing. When I swallow, I grab my beer and grin. “Itinerary. Such a weird word, huh?”

  Cassie giggles. “You always say that.”

  “Because you always say ‘itinerary.’ Why not tell me you got my airline information?”

  “Itinerary incorporates more than that,” she explains.

  “Fine. You know my flight and my hotel. Big whoop. Itinerary.”

  Now Cassie’s laughing, which is ultimately what I set out to do. I know she’s stressed. The closer we get to Vegas, the worse it gets. I stop eating for a second and look at her.

  When she finally meets my eyes, I smile. “You’re going to be great, you know that, right
? They wouldn’t have asked you to do this if they didn’t have complete faith in you.”

  She nods.

  “Seriously. Stop stressing. We’re going to Vegas. We’ll have fun and you’ll get your job done. Nothing to it.”

  “You’re right,” she says, standing up straight and taking a deep breath. “It’s all taken care of.”

  “Exactly. What could possibly go wrong?”

  Cassie

  Chase didn’t stick around after dinner, which was fine with me. I figure he has a date, but I didn’t bother to ask. I appreciate him coming over because it got my mind off work for a little while, but now as I sit on the couch and watch The Tonight Show, my mind keeps wandering back to my mother’s phone call earlier.

  “Cassie, are you sure that’s smart? I’ve been thinking and I don’t know why he would want to keep this a secret. You know, you really should marry him before things go sideways. That way you’re protected.”

  “Protected from what?”

  “Financially.”

  Honest to God, I think that’s the only thing my mother thinks about. Since my biological father has never been in the picture—I assume he has no money or else my mother would have hit him up for it long ago—she seems to move through life with the intention of financially securing her future. It hasn’t worked out for her so far.

  “Mom, it’s fine. We want to keep it a secret. Too much publicity otherwise. And besides, I don’t have time to think about that because I’m stressed about work.”

  “What about Chase? Is he there with you?”

  “Not right now, no. He’s coming over for dinner.”

  “Well, that’s good. I’m just a little concerned, that’s all.”

  “About?”

  “About this being a secret. Shouldn’t he want the world to know?” She gasps. “You don’t think he’s seeing other women on the side, do you?”

  I should have known that my mother would find a reason to worry about me. Not that she has for most of my life, but if it could possibly benefit her in any way, she’ll find a reason to stick her nose in my business.

 

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