by Erin Leigh
He grins. “Can we have sex in your bed at your mom’s? I don't normally want to disrespect moms, but I think that might make me feel better.”
“Oh my God, gross.” I laugh and roll my eyes, leaving him at the bar and walking to where the Vandervalks are standing so I can wish them happy anniversary.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Mr. Clinton, how are you?
Brady
Leaning against the bar, I give the bartender a nod. “Got any beer?”
He smiles wide. “Naw, man. Are you Brady Coldwell?” He cocks an eyebrow.
“Yeah.”
“Bro, what are you doing here? These people are as dry as a popcorn fart.”
We both chuckle quietly. His eyes widen and he straightens up. In his dark eyes I see the reflection of fiery red hair. My whole body cringes, but I force myself to turn and look at her.
“What’s shaking?”
She offers a sumptuous smile. “Hello, Mr. Clinton.” She bites her lip and the whole night with her flashes before my eyes.
“Monica.” I grin back, boldly. “Tell me, did William know about us when he brought you here to distract me? Or was he guessing I had a type? ‘Cause red isn’t my favorite.” I wince. “Sorry.”
Her eyes dart to the left but the smile stays the same. “You know how you like it, Mr. Clinton.”
Following where her stare goes, I sigh. “Pathetic attempt.” William is standing with Nat, too close for my comfort. They’re laughing and looking like one of those Barbie couples except Nat glares at William every chance she gets. He tries to touch her hand, but she folds her arms. “Ya see, it doesn't matter what he tries with her. He’s screwed up already. And this is not the week to try to mend fences with her.”
When I glance back at Helena her green eyes are stuck on me. She bats her lashes, reaching for my chest, but I lift a hand. “See ya around, Monica.” I nod at the bartender. “Good luck.”
He grins but his eyes barely leave Helena.
Instead of walking to my girl, I walk to Sami and lean against the wall, earning disapproving stares from pretty much everyone.
“You are not popular, my friend.”
“Story of my life.” I give her a sideways glance. “If I come up there and play for the Rangers, you think Nat would move in with me?”
Her jaw drops. “Oh my God, who are you?”
“Seriously?”
“Of course she would. She does enjoy the thrill of imprudent decisions even though she avoids them, and I suspect making her mother angry is at the very top of her priority list right now.”
“Cool.” A silly grin owns my face.
“You have been watching the ‘just let me explain’ Olympics going on over there, right?” She giggles.
“I have. If looks could kill.” I glance at Helena schmoozing the bartender and nod. “I Clintoned that model. He brought her here, for sure hoping to cause a rift.”
“He’s a douche. There’s not even a nice way of saying it.”
“Yup.”
Sami folds her arms and gives me a zesty look. “Don't fuck this up, Coldwell. At all. You break her heart and I hire people to make you disappear.”
A smug grin crosses my lips as I glance at her dad. “You don't have to hire anyone. I suspect Mr. Banks is hands-on.”
She giggles at him and nods. “He will fuck you up. And he likes you enormously. Her mom, on the other hand, hates you. Like full hatred. She’s rooting for number eight of the ‘let’s get back togethers.’ She isn’t over the whole Fairfields thing.”
“What is her problem? Why does she want to be one of these terrible people?” I say it before I think.
Sami lifts her middle finger. “She went to Greenwich Academy and made all the right friends and dated the right boy, and just as things were heating up with a certain millionaire, like the one whose house we’re in, she blows it and falls in love with the gardener.”
That makes me smile. “Mr. Banks was the gardener?”
“He was. He owned his own house. It was a shit shack just out of town, and he was working on his apprenticeship to become a builder, but he had to garden to pay the bills. I guess being an apprentice in the eighties was like some kind of slave labor.”
“Okay.” I laugh but refrain from telling her it’s still sort of like being an indentured servant.
“So anyway, they dated and got married and had a great life until Nat came along. Then her mom saw it as a second chance at happiness for the family. Marry wealthy and they would be in. Their daughter would be one of us terrible people and their grandkids would be the start.”
“That's scary. Like maybe the scariest thing I’ve ever heard. It’s like a marriage manifesto.”
Sami rolls her eyes. “It’s crazy. Nat is one of us. She can’t even escape it. She doesn't need to marry anyone for anything. She could ask my dad for a house and he’d give it to her. A couple million, no prob. He likes her better than me, loves the whole poor-person work ethic. Nat never needed to be anything but herself and everyone loved her. I think it’s weird when she’s being all fake and shit for her mom.” For a shallow girl I feel like she has gone to a depth she might never have reached before. But then she gives me an unimpressed look and sighs. “I need to get out of here. You guys want to go to New York?”
I shake my head. “No. Thanks.”
“Tell Nat I had to bail. This is boring as shit. I’ll text her later.” She waves and walks off.
I’m alone a second before Nat walks over, looking so pretty I can barely remember what we were talking about. Her cheeks are flushed and she has a glint in her eyes. She reaches for me, taking my hands and squeezing. “I am free to go. But we have to sneak out the side, so let’s pretend I am showing you the art.” She links her arm in mine and pulls me to a side room. We stroll, passing people doing the same thing, until we get to a door she opens and slips into, dragging me into a garage.
“There’s a side entrance.”
We hurry out it, both cringing when the cold air of fall hits us.
She walks us to a tree and pulls out her cell phone. “I need a new picture.” She holds it so we are both in it, under a magnificent tree. She looks at it and smiles at me. “There. That's better.”
“Sami told me about your mom and how this could have been her house.” I turn and look at the expansive mansion.
“She would have hated it. She loves my dad. She just gets crazy sometimes.” She rolls her eyes and leads me to the truck she tried to convince me not to bring. But after her mom’s hate speech I couldn't ride in the same car as her. Now, I’m glad I didn't.
When we get to the truck, I walk her to her side and open the door but stick my arm in the way so her back is against the open door. “Move in with me.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“When I get to New York, move in with me.”
“No, Brady, you need to focus and play and be part of the team and be crazy. You won’t even have time to see me. I don't want to obligate you to that.”
I reach down and cup her angelic face, searching her bright eyes for a moment. “I want you there. You can be there when I’m gone and have the place to yourself, but when I’m home I want you all to myself.”
She thinks for a second, and I can see the doubt in her eyes but she nods. “Okay. If you come to New York, I’ll live with you.” Her eyes widen and she looks like she might squeal, but she saves me from that experience and pulls my face down farther so she can kiss me.
My chest is fluttering and I swear I’m going crazy, but it’s the best feeling ever. And just like my brother said it would, it’s happened to me. I pull back, hold her face in my hands and smile. “I know.” She looks confused, but she doesn't have to understand. I do.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Practical Magic
Natalie
Moving the last of my things into Sami’s was exhausting. Thankfully, two brawny hockey players did most of the work.
As I un
pack the few things I need to live with her and put the rest of the boxes in the corner of the giant bedroom, she comes in. “What should we watch tonight?” She’s already in pajamas and holding the Apple TV remote.
“Whatever you want. I’m bagged.”
“Okay, I pick Practical Magic.” She saunters in and looks at the mess. “So Mike, Mitch, and Brady are all going to share your old apartment?” She sits on the edge of the king-sized bed.
“No. Just Mike and Brady. Mitch is moving in with some girl.”
“Not the waitress?” Sami wrinkles her nose.
“The very one.”
“Oh boy.” She rolls her eyes and taps the remote against her palm. “Did Brady ask you to move in with him yet?”
“He did. You knew?” I stop changing into my pajamas and stare at the guilty look on her face.
“He mentioned it, like passing it by me. I told him no and that he was crazy.” She sticks her tongue out.
“It is. I can’t believe he thinks we should move in together so soon. Especially, since we just lived together.” I drag on my sweater over my tank top and walk to the doorway with her following me.
“Why not? You and William spent years not actually progressing and that relationship was bullshit. You and Brady hit it off straight away. Why does there have to be a set of rules everyone follows to make relationships work? Everyone is going too fast or too slow or not at all.” Her voice drops a bit at the end, and I know she’s talking about her and Matt. They’ve been bedmates for a while and sort of seeing each other, but it does seem like it’s not going anywhere. “You should be excited you’re with a guy who knows he wants to be with you. And that's where you are. You don't have to go any further ahead or behind. He wants you and you want him and that's that.”
Sometimes she gets it right.
“Yeah, you’re right. Who cares if we live together or don't. He might not even go to the Rangers. We might long-distance date from here to Hartford for the whole five years he plays there.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t count on that.” She knows something she isn’t supposed to say. As much as I want to make her tell me, I’d rather he tell me his news. “Has your mom called yet?” The sudden subject change tells me she wants to tell me too but won’t.
“No. Dad called to say he loves me, and she loves me and sometimes she’s an asshole. The usual stuff.” I laugh because Brady has helped me see how ridiculous it all is.
When we get to the theatre room, she starts the movie she already had picked out.
It’s not the same as when we were kids and we watched movies with clear minds. She sits and stews, not laughing as hard as she could and checking her texts a few times. I want to tell her to walk away from Matt. He’s another William. He wants what he wants but that's short term because before too long he wants other things too. He’s a player. He might always be a player. And I have a bad feeing Brady has given her reason to hope Matt might change, seeing that Brady did.
And my mind isn’t clear either. I’m stressed about starting my new job. I don't like the fact I’ve got to start all over again. I only did three months at my first job. I was just getting comfortable.
We finish the movie and go to bed, me hoping to sleep and her hoping to hear from Matt. My slutty friend, who has always been the one to call the shots and choose how the story is going to play out, has finally met her equal. It’s a bit painful to watch her and the highs and lows of it all.
I barely sleep, and when I get up in the morning, I don’t know that I’m ready for it. I don't feel ready. I get dressed the same way I did in Hartford. But now, instead of walking across the park, I catch a cab to the office on Broadway, which is a massive skyscraper on a busy street. It’s not the quiet of Hartford with its small hustle and bustle. This is the big time, and it’s not even a dream I ever had. I never imagined this would be how my career would play out.
When I get inside, I feel like a country bumpkin, and I’m not. But this is intimidating. But then my phone buzzes and there’s a text.
Good luck today, beautiful. Call me on your lunch break.
I sigh and lose some of the stress and tension. For the first time ever, a boy makes all of that better. He doesn't cause it, unless he’s playing hockey. Then I’m a ball of stress.
When I lift my head, Jane Stuart is there, waiting for me. She smiles and waves. “Natalie, how are you?”
“Very well, thank you.”
“Excellent.” Her eyes sparkle with delight. “You ready?”
I feel like we might enter Narnia, but we just go into the elevator. She uses her card and scans like in a hotel.
“You will be with the design team when we get upstairs. They will show you the ropes, get you situated, and help you start on the first of many projects you will have.” She takes a long breath. “Just relax, Natalie. This is going to be the best first day and you will love it here.”
“Thank you.”
The day goes fast with meeting people, forgetting names, and finding my desk. By the time I have a cover project it’s lunch and the HR lady has just left me alone. No one goes together to eat. There’s no joking or laughing or making fun of one another. It’s professional and the atmosphere isn’t tense, but it’s not relaxed like in Hartford.
I prefer that type of office, but I know this is what’s best.
Sitting back in my small space, I dial Brady and close my eyes.
“Hey, how’s it going?
“Good.”
“What’s wrong?” He lowers his voice.
I open my eyes and look around at the large space. “It’s not that there’s something wrong. It’s just not the same, you know?”
“How?” He sounds out of breath a bit, like he might be working out. He’s so fit he’s probably jogging and still talking to me.
“Like, I just miss the weird office where everyone knew each other. This is intense, and I bet most of the people in the other departments don't know each other. I bet I won’t really know anyone outside of design.”
He sighs. “I know what you mean. Leaving behind a small team and going to a big one is the same. You are comfortable and everyone is there because this is what they love doing. But in the big leagues they've lost some of that love and a lot of it is work and competition and demand. But the bigger paycheck and the recognition and being at the top of your field come with a price. You have to decide if this is what you want.”
“Did you have to make that choice?”
“Many times over. Most recently last night.”
My stomach drops. “What?”
His voice changes so I can tell he’s smiling when he speaks, “Yeah, I got the big call. They’ve got an injury and a couple of problems and they want me. I play my first game with them in a week, and I am coming there tomorrow to train with them and practice.”
“Did they sign you?”
“Yup. I went from a two-way contract to a full mid-season contract. I can finish out the year with them and then I’ll be a free agent. But I suspect if I play well they’ll offer me something amazing.”
“Holy shit!” My heart is racing and my stomach is tense. “Congratulations!” I realize he never told me about it last night. “Why didn't you tell me last night during all your bedtime chatter?”
“I didn't want to be the big star of the day. You’re starting a new job—”
“Are you insane? I didn't even want this job when I got it. This hasn't been a dream of mine since I was a tiny kid. My dad didn't die wishing this for me. Your news is the best in the world. Did you call your mom?” I am standing and my hand is lodged in my hair, and I want to run around the building screaming but again, this isn’t Hartford.
“Yeah, she cried. It was pretty awesome. She and my brother are coming to the game next week. You can meet them then. She’s really excited to meet you.”
Again my stomach burns. “Okay.” I fear his mom the way I fear mine. He loves her and respects her. I have to assume she has some
sort of ballbusting way about her to command that sort of loyalty.
“I’ll be there tomorrow. I was thinking I’ll just stay with Matt until I find a place.”
“No, stay with me. Sami won’t care. And her parents are in France. They do this whole autumn in Europe thing to avoid the sucky storms here.”
“No. I’ll stay with Matt. I’m not going to stay at her parents’ house. That's disrespectful and my mom would kill me.” He laughs. “But back to the important stuff—do you think you will like it there?”
“I hardly know. It’s new and we’ll see. But your news is the important stuff. Mine is nothing in comparison. In fact, I feel terrible that you let me go on and on about how nervous I was and how this was such a big step. I feel like a dick.”
“No, you distracted me from the craziness of it all. And my big step doesn't make yours smaller.”
I close my eyes and sink back into my chair blindly, not telling him that his does overshadow mine, like a tree over a blade of grass. I don't want him to think he’s made mine small. Mine is small and I’m okay with that. “I am so proud of you.”
“Thanks, baby. You’re my lucky charm.”
It makes me smile and after a moment I realize there are tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. It’s not mere tears; it’s something else. Something I thought I might have felt a few times, but now I see I didn't. I have never felt this way about another person, ever. “I love you, Brady. I shouldn't be saying it on the phone like a coward, or this soon into the relationship, but I feel like I have to say it or I’ll explode. I love you and I am so proud of you.” The words tumble from my parted lips.
“I—”
“Don't say anything. I just want this to be a moment of me loving you and being proud of you.” I can’t believe I’ve said that.
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I nod like he can see me. “Okay. Bye.” I hang up and realize how much I just gave away. I don't even care though. I love him. I love that he’s kind and gentle and sweet, and he doesn't show that to anyone but me. All the other girls see that slimy grin and hear the Clinton stories, and I have the real version of him. The soft and sweet boy who loves his mom and makes everyone else bigger than himself.