by Olivia Chase
And knowing that they were always comparing me to her, always finding me lacking…well, I gave up trying and just started doing whatever I wanted. Got in fights. Fucked around in classes. Banged a lot of girls. Typical acting out.
Sports saved me.
I go into the living room and sit down on the floral couch. More pics of Mom in here the same ones I’ve seen for years and years—high school graduation, pregnant with me, standing beside me at my kindergarten graduation.
After she died, there were no more pictures taken of me.
I stare at the TV in silence, the way Grandpa and I always existed. We watch the basketball game, making mild commentary here and there. He asks me a few questions about player potential, what I know and heard. It makes me feel good when I can rattle off statistics and theories on who is going to explode into stardom.
When dinner is ready, we gather at the table. Grandma always insisted no matter what that we eat this one meal together. No exceptions. Even when I was grounded to my room, I was required to dine with them.
The two of them talk amiably back and forth about their day. Grandma discusses how her car is making a funny pinging sound, and Grandpa tells her he’ll take it in to the shop tomorrow.
I sit quietly and watch them.
I know they love me. They’ve told me that. They were never cruel to me. And I know they miss my mother, and I’m their one living link to her. But I never really felt comfortable here. I never felt like it was my home.
My home was a tiny apartment I lived in with Mom, a half hour from here. I had my own bedroom, and when I had nightmares, she’d come in and bring me cookies and distract me by telling me all about the awful people she worked with at the grocery store. I had neighborhood friends, and we’d play in the park for hours.
It was me and her, and I felt safe and secure.
Until she was found murdered. Found strangled in her car in an empty parking lot. I remember digging into the pantry and eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while I waited for her to come home. Took a full day before they found her body.
The funeral was closed casket.
I was quickly shipped off to this house, and I had my own room again, this one bigger. The room where I’ll be staying tonight if I decide to sleep here. I’m sure it’s still decorated the same, still bearing a shelf of my sports trophies from school.
“You’re not eating,” Grandma admonishes. “Don’t you like it? Are you getting sick or something?”
I shove a big bite into my mouth. “It’s good,” I say after I finish chewing. It really is. Grandma knows her way around a lasagna. Always my favorite meal. She probably made this just for that reason. Humbleness tightens my chest.
They don’t know what to do with me. Never did. But they tried, in their own way. I just felt they were so old-fashioned and strict. They were in their fifties when I moved in, and there was a big generational disconnect there.
I couldn’t connect with them. Couldn’t connect with anyone. Just shut down.
I’m reminded of Andrea, the way she made me feel things I haven’t felt before. A fire. Even if it wasn’t a terrible idea to fuck her, I’d be no good for her anyway. I’m no good for anyone except my clients. It’s all I have to give.
Dinner passes. I help clear plates and load the dishwasher. Grandpa moves back into the living room to finish watching the game. Grandma picks up her paper and works on the crossword puzzle.
I suddenly feel stifled. I can’t stay here. “I gotta head back,” I tell them.
They both look up at me. I can see disappointment in their eyes. Disappointment, yet they already expected me to say it. At least it isn’t crushing them.
“You sure? It’s late,” Grandpa says. “Your room is ready for you. Grandma put on fresh sheets.”
“Next time,” I tell them. I press fleeting kisses to their thin cheeks.
“We’ll see you at the end of the month,” Grandma says, then refocuses her attention on her puzzle.
Ah, shit. Thanksgiving. At least there will be more family there to help mitigate the tension. Grandma has a big extended family, even though she and Grandpa only had one child. Not to mention they usually invite neighbors to the feast.
I draw in a deep breath of air once I step outside. It’s cold, but it feels good. Needed.
That place feels like a funeral home to me, where my past haunts me on every wall, in every corner. I’m running out of energy to deal with it.
Andrea
The next two weeks pass in strained silence between me and Ryker. I do as he requests, communicating only via email. His replies are terse but he doesn’t delay any longer. Probably so I won’t come by his office.
I admit, I’m confused. Confused and deflated. We had such a passionate encounter. But maybe this is to be expected. Ryker Baldwin was just using me for a physical release, nothing more. There is definitely an attraction between us, but it’s obviously unwanted on his part.
So I’ll do my job and forget anything ever happened between us.
My phone vibrates. A text from Daria. Time for lunch today?
I type back, Crazy busy. Can we try for tmrw? Since working here, I haven’t seen much of her. I get in the office early and leave late. And she’s meeting people in town and making friends. Going out and doing things that people in their twenties do.
Not me though. I’m all work. And if I got along better with Ryker, I wouldn’t mind it at all.
K, raincheck ;-) she texts.
Of course! XO
I tuck my phone away and continue my research. I’m making my way nicely through the list Ryker sent me of potential contacts. I gotta agree that it’s a good idea to expand our services to other athletes. And he’s having me learn about Olympic ice skating, which is amazing and fun. Maybe I can start developing my own clientele list in these fields. I loved the Winter Olympics as a kid.
The good news is, I’m getting to know the other agents in the office, and they’ve been pretty nice to me so far. I’m sure they don’t view me as competition, of course—I’m new and junior, and no one is taking me seriously yet. But at least they’re being sociable in the break room. I think it helped that I brought in gourmet muffins on Monday.
Food, the great office uniter.
Yesterday, Ryker told me to go ahead and start setting up appointments for us to meet with these new contacts. I have to admit, I was shocked. I kinda figured he was going to ignore me forever.
How are things going to be between us?
Every night, I lie in bed and remember far too much about him. The crooked smirk he wears when saying something funny. His passion for his company. The way he whispered my name right before entering me.
How I came all over him.
It’s torture. I wish we’d never had sex at all. At least then I wouldn’t know what I’m missing out on now. Not that he feels the same. I’m sure he wishes we hadn’t as well.
I sigh and look around my office. I have few personal artifacts in here—a picture of my family, a funny desk toy Daria got me, a couple of photographs of artwork that speak to me deeply. The first baseball mitt I ever owned.
I have to admit. I’m lonely.
Maybe I need to get out and try to date. Do like Daria and explore the city more. I know this business is tough, with grueling hours sometimes, but I should make more of an effort to learn my new home. Take in a play. Try some exciting food.
The most I’ve seen so far is the subway system.
That’s it. This weekend, I’m going to go to a museum. New York City is filled with them, begging to be explored. The Guggenheim might be an interesting one to start. I’m not a huge fan of modern art, but from the pictures I’ve seen, the architecture of the building is stunning. Hopefully Daria can go with me, but if not, I’ll just go myself.
There’s a knock on my door. It’s Marietta.
“Hi,” I say with a smile. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Just letting you know Kyle Mackelroy calle
d you back on the main line, saying he’d like to schedule a meeting with you and Ryker next Wednesday.” She hands me a slip of paper with the message. “You’re doing a good job, you know.”
Her praise warms me and helps me feel less alone here. “Thanks. I’m trying.”
“Ryker…” She steps into my office and clears her throat. “He can be difficult to know—got a hard shell around him. But he’s fair and cares deeply about this company. You keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll be fine. He’ll come around.”
I feel a flush burning my cheeks. So she can tell he’s avoiding me too. “Thanks.”
She nods. “Let me know if you want me to order you any lunch. We’re getting sandwiches from the deli.”
“Thanks. I’d like that.”
“Just email me your order.” Marietta leaves and closes the door behind her.
Before I have a lot of time to mull over that conversation, my phone vibrates again. I look down at it, expecting to see a reply from Daria. But it’s not a number I know.
Andrea! It’s Cade Thompson. I have the right number for u, yes? lol
My heart gives a painful, excited thud. Whoa. Why is he texting me? Yes, it’s me. Hah. Hi. How are ya?
I’m in ur town! Have some meetings. Wanna meet 4 coffee?
I pause and stare at the screen. Before I can ponder the meaning of that message, another text comes through.
Nothin sketchy lol. Promise. Would like to talk 2 u.
Sure. When?
Free this afternoon?
I glance at my calendar. Does 2 work? Where are you staying?
He gives me the address of his hotel. I find a coffee shop near Central Park and text him the name and address. That should be nice and scenic for him.
See u soon! he writes.
I get up from my desk, whistling, and bounce to the break room to refill my coffee mug. It can’t hurt to see if there’s any chance at getting him to sign, despite what Ryker said before. Besides, he hinted he wanted to talk to me. What else could there be for us to talk about?
I should tell Ryker so he knows. This could be our second chance to get the break he wanted. He’ll be thrilled if I’m able to get Cade to sign with us.
When I get into the break room, Ryker is there. Apparently he had the same idea I did and is pouring himself a fresh coffee. I stumble and pause in the doorway. He must have heard me, because he turns around and looks me over, then turns back. No emotion on his face. Just deadness.
Embarrassment and anger sweep through me. I leave the break room and go back to my office. Close the door quietly behind me. I’m tired of him being such a cold dick to me. It’s been two weeks of nonstop ignoring and chilly side eyes.
Fuck it.
It’s only noon, but I’m gonna leave now. If I don’t, I’ll charge into his office and say things I shouldn’t say, and then my ass will be canned. Besides, I need time to calm down and focus before I see Cade. I grab the file Ryker originally printed for me with my notes and stuff it in my bag. Head to the elevator and out into the brisk, bright day.
Me meeting with Cade before telling him will probably piss Ryker off. Which only makes it sweeter to me now. Admittedly, beneath the anger and embarrassment about his treatment of me is hurt.
I feel wounded. And every day I’m forced to realize he doesn’t want to be around me, it’s another dagger in my chest.
I don’t know how long I can keep this up. But I’ll do the best I can. Get the experience I need, build a list, and then get the fuck out of here. Maybe join another firm. I’ll use him the way he used me.
I should feel more victory about that thought, but it leaves me sad and depressed. I don’t want to use people. Or be used.
After taking the subway to get near the café, I just wander the sidewalk. Watch people scuttling around me, making their way into Central Park, walking dogs and dragging along small children. I tuck my coat closer to me to ward off the chill. The sun is shining but it isn’t penetrating the cold enough, and the leaves still clinging to the trees are dirty brown.
But there are a lot of shopping areas in this place. I make a mental note of the interesting stores and shops I pass. Thanksgiving is next week, and I could bring some souvenirs home for my family. None of them have ever been here.
At ten to two, I step into the café and find a table near the back, where we can chat. Order me up a coffee and wait.
Fifteen minutes go by. No sign of him yet. I try not to let anxiety overwhelm me. But I can’t help but think about the fact that I left work early to be here and didn’t tell anyone where I was going. Is this a fireable offense?
Screw it. If Cade doesn’t show, I’ll just tell Ryker I was doing more research on my tasks. Let him prove that I wasn’t.
Another ten minutes pass. I keep my phone on the table in case Cade texts me. But no messages. Just when I decide to text him and see where he is, the door dings, and in sweeps Cade, cheeks flushed from cold. He spies me and makes a beeline straight for my table, a broad grin on his face.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I tried to take the subway and went to the wrong stop, and then I got confused and…” He gives a bashful shrug. “This sure ain’t like Texas.”
I laugh and wave him into the seat. “You’re freezing. Let me go get you a coffee.”
He gives a mock frown when he sees my cup. “I asked you here. I was supposed to be a gentleman and buy one for you.”
“Well, you showed up, and that’s gentlemanly enough,” I tease.
Cade gets a coffee and comes back, and then we make small talk for several minutes. I am dying to ask about who he signed with, if anyone, but decide to keep mum. I want to feel him out, see what is really going on here.
I’m not detecting any signs of flirting though, despite what Ryker thought. He’s just being his usual charming, boyish self. Sure, a little bit of cheeky winking, but nothing harmful.
“Say…” he says with a mischievous grin on his face. “Wanna go walk in Central Park? I’ve only seen it in the movies, and I thought I saw on the map that it’s nearby.”
I smile. “Sure. It’s just a couple of blocks to our right.”
We grab our to-go cups and head out into the cool afternoon air. Cade is quiet and seems to be in a thoughtful mood as we walk. A couple of kids are throwing baseballs at each other, and he gives a small smile.
“Used to be me,” he says, nodding at them. “Never woulda thought I’d be where I am now. Right on the edge of achieving my dreams.”
My throat is thick as I nod at his words. “That’s exactly how I feel.” I can hear the passion in his words and I identify with it so much. He and I, we each just want our big break.
We enter the park and make our way down a bench-lined sidewalk. Someone is strumming a guitar, which just adds to the light ambiance.
The whole time, he’s a perfect gentleman, the same as he was before. It’s absurd that Ryker warned me about a nice guy like him, when Ryker is the one who is the real jerk. Ryker is the one who used me to get a piece of ass and then threw me away.
“So you’re probably wondering what I want to talk about,” he finally says.
My lungs get a bit tight from my anticipation, but I keep my words casual. “I admit, the thought did cross my mind.”
He chuckles. “Well, I wanted to let you know that I’ve been thinking about stuff. I like you, Andrea. I trust you, and I want us to work together.”
I’m so stunned I can barely speak. “Wh—what?”
His face creases with a huge smile. “I decided to sign with The Baldwin Corporation because of your involvement.” We turn left onto another sidewalk and continue walking. My heart is racing like mad. Am I really hearing this right? “You remind me of the good people I grew up with, people who can be trusted. I’d like to hear some of your ideas on how we can grow my career.” He looks over at me. “I admit, I did some research on you before approaching you. Especially since you’re so new. But with your eagerness to succeed and The
Baldwin Corporation’s connections, I think we’ll make a great team. We can both make money and have fun. What do you say? You still want me as a client?” His eyes are twinkling. He knows I do.
“Of course!” I say, fighting the urge to jump up and down and do a giddy dance. This is huge. I’m on cloud nine. Oh, Daria and I are so going out to celebrate tonight. I got my first client—and he’s a doozy. “Have you told Ryker yet?”
“Nope,” he says. “I figured you might like to tell him you got me to bite.”
We spend about twenty minutes with me hashing out a rough plan on my ideal trajectory with him—ironing out which team he wants to work with, going for solid but attainable endorsements. Doing some public service to get him into the limelight—yeah, some won’t pay a lot, but the point is name recognition. We discuss his social media strategy as well.
“Um,” I say delicately, “do you have the resources lined up to handle your finances? You should have an attorney.”
He laughs. “Oh, don’t worry. I have several. And an accountant who works with my family. We’re set on those things.”
I flush. “Oh. Good.” Duh, of course he does. Rookie mistake on my part.
“Hey.” He cups my shoulder and squeezes, then releases. “It’s going to be great. I know you’re eager for my business and you’ll do everything you can for me.”
“You’re damn right I will.” Resolve fills me. “I’ll go over everything with Ryker and we’ll meet with you again if you want another official sit-down.”
“I think we’ve hashed out some good ideas here. Send the contract to my lawyers and I’ll sign it by the morning and send it back.”
Oh my God. This is real. Three weeks into my dream job, and I scored a huge, huge coup for myself…and for the company. Yeah, Ryker might not be happy that he wasn’t included on this meeting, but even he can’t bitch about the upside.
We’re going to turn the name and face of The Baldwin Corporation around. And I don’t care how hard I have to work. I’m going to make sure Cade doesn’t regret taking a chance on me. He has his pick of senior agents, and the fact that he’s choosing me—and by association, Ryker’s company—means so much to me.