Bud shoved his hands in his pockets. “You know, this game is critical. Nothing more important to Wes right now.”
“Oh, I know, Mr. Blakefield.” I didn’t feel comfortable calling him by his first name.
“Don’t lecture her, Bud.” Gloria patted him on the elbow.
I faked a laugh. “I promise not to keep him out too late.” I pushed on the elevator button, praying the doors would open quickly and I could escape this scene.
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” His father didn’t let up. “His full concentration needs to be on the game. The play offs. The Super Bowl. Not the flavor of the week.”
I thought I had shown a lot of restraint until now, but I spun on my heels. “Excuse me? What did you just call me?”
Gloria’s eyes hit the floor. I could tell right away she wasn’t going to be my ally. She stood by and let her husband berate me.
But he held the elevator door for me so I could step in. It seemed like a gentlemanly gesture, except for the fact that he kept the doors open so I couldn’t leave. He leaned in.
“My son is a champion. The whole world is watching him. And I’m going to say it—you are a damn distraction to what he’s worked toward his entire life. Everyone can see it.”
The anger bubbled in my belly. Who was he to speak to me this way? I wasn’t a whore or a call girl. I was a talented surgeon who had her own dreams and accomplishments. Hitching my wagon to Wes’s star wasn’t part of my plan. We had our own goals. Our own paths to follow. And right now, we were in each other’s lives. I wasn’t trying to drag him down or steer him away from his passion. Bud Blakefield knew nothing about me.
“You think I’m a distraction? Me? The one who supports him? The one who cares how he feels and what he thinks?” I let the look of disdain fill my face. “If anyone is a distraction around here, it’s you. You can’t stand it if he isn’t anything but the best. You’re the real problem. Not me.” I tapped the buttons on the elevator, but he kept his hand wedged against the door.
“He is a winner. And you are expendable.” He let go of the door, letting it close all too slowly.
There wasn’t anything left to say. Gloria’s horrified face said it all.
21
Wes
The waiter brought the menus, and I ordered a glass of wine for Lennon. I didn’t drink the night before a game. I passed on the beer list. She had spoken less than ten words since we left the hotel.
I leaned across the table. “Did I tell you how fucking sexy you look in that new dress, Doc?”
She nodded. “A few times.”
Something was off. But I didn’t know what. I was in new territory. Truth was, I’d never cared if a woman was upset or preoccupied. The few hours I spent with them weren’t enough to get that involved. But Lennon and I were more than that, and I felt the tightening in my chest every time I looked at her face and saw the worry in her eyes. What the fuck was wrong?
I was craving a glass of bourbon. Something to dull the tension I could feel between us.
“You had fun shopping?” I asked.
“Yes. I went to a few of my old favorite shops.”
“And you got what you wanted?” Women loved to shop. I thought free reign with my credit card would have made her happy. She could have bought out three stores if she wanted and I wouldn’t have cared.
“Just the one dress.” She tipped the wine glass to her lips.
“There’s no limit on that card.”
She eyed me. “I don’t need your money to buy clothes, Wes. I’m a surgeon. I make a pretty good salary. Maybe not millions, but I can afford a slutty dress.”
I don’t know what had happened, but something had changed since I left her in the suite this morning.
“Slutty dress was a joke. You look beautiful.”
She lowered her eyes. Her fingers worked the corners of the linen napkin. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to think I need your money or I’m here for the money.”
“When did I ever say that?”