Phone Call

BROOKE

My whole body tenses, and I’m sure my cheeks are turning red in embarrassment. “Excuse me,” I politely dismiss myself from the table, “I—I have to take this.”

I start rushing away, but my body instinctively grabs my full glass of wine to take with me. I might need it to deal with whatever has John so upset. I catch Colin’s concerned gaze following me as I head to the hallway toward the restrooms.

“What is it?” I say, putting the phone back to my ear.

“You’re fucking working with Scholtz! What the FUCK do you think is wrong?” John blares again over the phone.

Great! Just fucking great! I shake my head in frustration. Of course Sydney couldn’t keep secrets, no matter how important, no matter how much I begged her not to say anything about Colin to John.

But then, Syd is only seven. Can you really expect a seven-year-old to understand the importance of keeping a secret? She probably just wanted to brag about meeting someone famous.

“WELL? You have nothing to say, Brooke?” John barks again.

“There is nothing to say, John! He came in for physical therapy. I can’t turn him away just because of your past.”

“THAT IS FUCKING BULLSHIT, BROOKE!”

“Keep your voice down! Where is Sydney? She better not be hearing you screaming!”

“Is there something going on between you and him?” John questions.

“What in the hell makes you say that?” I defend myself, but I can’t help looking back down the hall toward the table, searching for Colin. The seat he was in is empty now; Davis is alone at the table, his attention on his phone.

Did Colin leave? My heart sinks a little at the thought.

“That’s not a FUCKING answer, Brooke!” John barks again.

“NO! As if it’s any of your business. I don’t have to explain myself to you!” I shout back. My blood starts to boil even more, and with each pause between words I take another gulp of wine.

“You have NO business in MY life anymore, John! You see Sydney and that’s it! Now, speaking of Sydney, I asked you where she is.”

“She’s downstairs with the fucking dog! You need to come pick them up,” he orders.

“You’re supposed to be spending the entire weekend with her.”

“The fucking dog tore my leather couch to pieces and I can’t get anywhere near it without it trying to bite me. I want that thing out of my house!”

Reasoning with him wouldn’t be any use, so I let him have his way. “Fine. I’ll be there in an hour,” I say, letting out a heavy sigh.

It absolutely kills me knowing that John never wants to spend time with his own daughter. I never wanted Sydney growing up like me, thinking a parent doesn’t love her.

I fight back tears, trying to hold strong and compose myself as I hang up the phone, but a few tears escape and trickle down my cheek.

Then I jump forward, startled at the touch of a warm hand on the small of my back. I turn to find Colin standing behind me. “God, you scared me!” I say, holding my thumping chest.

“Sorry, I just came to check if—” He stops talking, seeing the tears running down my cheek. I quickly turn away from him, embarrassed, and wipe them away.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not! What’s wrong?” Colin grabs my arm, trying to bring me toward him.

“I have to go pick up Sydney,” I say, trying to scoot past him without him seeing my face, but he puts his hand around my waist to stop me.

“I’ll drive you,” he says.

“No.”

Colin takes the empty wine glass from my hand and brings his palm up to my face. His fingers glide along under my lip and gently push my chin up to look at him. “I’m not letting you drive like this. You’re upset, and you’ve been drinking.”

I keep my eyes locked on his for a second. I can’t help it. Something about those gorgeous hazel eyes just sucks me in. His warm hands send tingles swirling through my body.

“I—I can’t have David thinking I blew him off to go home with you,” I mutter, flustered, still half in my trance. I don’t even realize how that sentence could be interpreted until it’s already tumbled out of my mouth.

Colin chuckles under his breath. “Davis,” he corrects me.

“Right,” I whisper, scrunching my face. “Davis.”

“Just tell him you called an Uber. I’ll pull my car around out front.”

All I can do is nod at him, and the next minute my face is left cold as he pulls his hand away. I watch as Colin walks back to the table, politely shakes Davis’s hand, and walks out of the restaurant.

I step into the bathroom quickly to fix myself in the mirror. I wipe the tear tracks from my cheeks and clean up the makeup I’m not used to wearing before heading back to the table.

“Davis, I’m so sorry,” I say in a nervous hurry, grabbing my coat and purse. “Something came up and I have to pick up my daughter.”

“Oh. Well, okay then.” Davis looks disappointed as he rises from his chair. “I can give you a lift home,” he offers kindly.

“Oh, that’s okay. I already called an Uber…but thank you for dinner.”

I shuffle through my wallet, feeling obligated to at least pay for my share of dinner. I pull out sixty dollars and throw it on the table.

Without another word Davis leans his face into mine, and I panic. I arch my back and turn my head, avoiding his mouth so he ends up planting a kiss on my cheek instead.

“Umm, sorry…the peanut butter.” Embarrassed, I turn and head for the door.

Outside, the late November wind blasts into me, sending my hair flying as I step onto the sidewalk.

“Brooke!” I hear Colin’s voice up ahead, and a tricked-out, shiny, black Mercedes-Benz G-Class SUV stands out among all the other cars parked along the curb.

Of course, could I expect anything less from the hottest NFL player? “Th-this is your car?” My jaw drops again as I climb in and see the interior.

The seats, steering wheel, and armrests on the inside doors are coated in rich black leather, and the dashboard looks like the pilot’s control center in a private jet.

“One of the perks of my job, I guess.” Colin shrugs as he pulls away from the restaurant curb.

“So, where are we heading?” he asks, looking at me.

“John’s place. He rents a condo near here.” I look at him with a lump growing in my throat as the panic takes over. “Th-this isn’t a good idea. He’s upset because he found out I’m working with you. Leave it to a seven-year-old not to hold her tongue.”

I put my head in my hands. “You can’t…” I try to form my thoughts into words. “If he sees you…” I feel the anxiety building in my throat as I rub my face.

Colin pries my hands away and intertwines his fingers with mine, resting them on the center armrest.

“Hey, it will be okay. I’m not letting you go there alone,” he says. I open my mouth to argue more. “I overheard him on the phone from across the table, Brooke. I’m not letting you go there alone,” he states again, firmly.

I reluctantly give in and tell him John’s address. We drive for a while, his hand still entangled in mine. It feels nice.

Eventually, though, I have to ground myself and come back down to reality. I pry my hand from his warm grip and comb it through my hair as embarrassment floods my mind.

“So, Davis, huh?” Colin says, making conversation. “He seems like a real…catch.” The sarcasm in his voice is palpable till he sends me a serious look. “I thought you said you weren’t going to go on a date with him?”

“I guess I changed my mind,” I answer. “Why does it matter to you?” I can’t help but ask.

Colin shrugs silently. His eyes stay focused on the road in front of him as his grip tightens against the steering wheel, straining the leather.

“Well?” I probe teasingly. Maybe even a little flirtatiously. “What? Are you jealous of him or something?”

“Me? Jealous of Davis?” Colin laughs again. “Definitely not!” He sounds pompously confident, which makes me a little irritated and somehow let down at the same time.

Colin looks over at me. “I think I understand your asshole standards in men by now, and that guy one thousand percent qualifies as an asshole!”

I can’t help but laugh. He’s right. Davis is a total asshole, and I’ll be picturing his face on my punching bag during workouts for the next few months.

“Well, Natali seems like quite a catch too.” Colin looks over at me and smirks.

“Maybe they’re meant for each other.” Colin laughs at his own comment, but my mouth drops open. Colin doesn’t think highly of his own girlfriend?

“Wha—! Then why are you with her?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s expected, I guess…”

“Expected?” I question.

“As her publicist puts it, we look great together!” he says sarcastically, and shakes his head again. “Comes with the career, fame, and nonstop paparazzi.”

“Colin…” I look at him in disbelief. “Why do you perceive yourself as someone you’re not?”

He sighs and doesn’t look at me, but I can sense the sadness in his eyes. “What star athlete doesn’t like the spotlight or the constant publicity or the models?” He sounds a little agitated.

“Everyone assumes I’m just another vain football player, whether it’s true or not.” He finally looks at me, and my stomach ties in a knot knowing he’s including me in that statement.

I’m guilty of exactly that, assuming he was just like the rest of them. Cocky, self-absorbed, asshole football player who thinks only of himself, his image, and of course, football.

I stare down at my hands in silence; guilty for judging him, and for being totally wrong.