“And you come in and fuck it up, right?” Ethan says, laughing.
“You know it. I have learned not to announce that I’m home by yelling loudly and slamming the door.”
The four of us laugh, and as I look around the table, I realize I’m the odd man out. Even though Ethan doesn’t have any children, he has a niece that he dotes on. Hell, most of us love her because she’s such an amazing kid. This could all change for me if Saylor gives me a chance. I know the stakes in dating a single mom and how reserved they are about falling in love, because it’s not only their hearts that get hurt if things end badly. I need to step up my game where she’s concerned, though, because I want so much more after spending more and more time with her.
A group of fans walk in and spot us immediately. Within seconds, we’re signing autographs and posing for pictures. Honestly, I’m surprised I was asked, considering all the negative media about me right now. One fan even said that she didn’t think I did it, because her friends are always trying to land an athlete. Really? This is the kind of world we live in?
I know the day will come when I can tell the truth, and I plan on it. I’ll stand on the highest rooftop and shout my innocence when I’m given the green light. Irvin says it’ll be soon, but I’ve come to the realization that his definition of “soon” and mine are vastly different.
Our food is delivered, causing us to turn into barbarians. The first bite is always the best, and there’s nothing like a greasy burger to make your day better. I have to admit that having the guys here has really lifted my spirits, and while I don’t want them to miss time with their families, I’m happy to have them with me.
“This burger,” Ethan mumbles as he puts it back onto the plate and wipes his hands. “I love my mom, but she’s on this health kick and Daisy has joined her. I don’t even have my winter fat yet because I’m eating egg whites and lean meats when all I want is a juicy steak. My dad, Mike, and I have been trying to sneak out for pizza, but my mother has junk-food radar right now. I’m freaking starving,” he says, stuffing fries in his mouth.
“At least you’re eating. Ainsley wants to try and do everything herself
and sometimes she’s too tired to cook, and I can’t even make toast, so it’s been a lot of takeout,” Cooper adds.
We look to Branch and wait for his story. He shrugs. “Chicken nuggets and pizza have become staples in my house.”
I open my mouth to tell them about my dinner dates last night but keep that to myself, although I’d love to introduce Branch’s son to Lucy. They’re close in age and would probably get along.
“And we all know how you’ve been eating, Kidd. I can’t believe you held a press conference to get some food,” Ethan says.
I shake my head and set my burger down. “They didn’t give me a choice. They were either going to follow me there or harass the person delivering it, so I tried to beat them at their own game.”
“How’d that go for you?” Branch asks.
“Perfect,” I tell them, laughing. “Food was delivered, and I think the restaurant saw an increase in sales that day from the news crew.” Giving them the publicity is the least I can do if I’m not able to eat there like usual. In fact, the restaurants I have been frequenting are mostly in Saylor’s neighborhood, increasing my chances of running into her. Can’t say that’s working out for me either. If it weren’t for Irvin, dinner the other night wouldn’t have happened. I should send the man a thank-you card.
“So what’s next?” Cooper asks.
I set my napkin down and clasp my hands in front of me. “After we finish, I think we order dessert. What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t allow Davenport to get his winter fat?” Everyone laughs while Ethan tries to push me out of my chair.
Fourteen
Saylor
I have purposely avoided my phone today. Elijah threatened that he’d be in town, and I’m hoping that I can avoid seeing him by not answering any calls or text messages. It’s foolish, but it’s the only thing getting me through the day. I’ve also been able to ignore Travis for the last couple of days. That hasn’t been easy, but I have a job to do and everything can’t revolve around him, even though that’s what he’d like. My other clients need my services, have crises, have events that need to be RSVP’d to, or have contracts that need to be looked over. My co-workers could help me out, but passing off my clients in favor of one isn’t the smartest thing to do.
A quick glance at the clock lets me know that the office will be closing shortly. It’s Friday, the one day that Jeffrey insists that staff leave at five. Every other day, we stay until the job is done, whether it’s in the office or out in the field. But on Fridays, he wants to make sure we can relax before the hectic weekend of sporting events starts. Not that the weekdays are any less crazy, but Sundays are the worst during the winter. We have football, basketball, and hockey, and luckily for me, aside from the issues with Travis, none of my clients should need me this weekend. Although, in this business, you never know until you get that call.
The downside of not having to work is that I can’t use it as an excuse if Elijah does show up. I contemplate calling ahead to get Lucy and me tickets for an event, anything to get us away from Elijah, and as I pick up my phone to do so, a shadow appears in my doorway.
“Hello, Saylor.” His voice is something I’ll never forget but wish every day that I could. Many times it’s the voice I hear in the middle of my nightmares when he tells me he’s coming to take my daughter away from me. I liken it to the way Anthony Hopkins voiced Hannibal Lecter, creepy and bone-chilling.
I sit up as straight as I can and try to calm my nerves. I have often thought that if I ever saw him again, I’d crumble, that my heart would betray me and I’d fall back into his arms. But seeing him now, standing in my doorway with his designer trench coat folded over his arm, and those plastic covers that men put on their shoes instead of changing into boots, makes me laugh. These past few days, not once did I see Travis worry about his shoes. And the more I look at Elijah, the more I question what I saw in him all those years ago.
“Elijah,” I say curtly as I try to peer through my blinds to see where Wanda is. Normally she would call ahead to announce a guest, but I can’t see any sign of her, which means he walked right past her desk in search of me.
I don’t invite him in or ask him to take the empty seat in front of my desk. For all I care, he can stand there while my co-workers brush past him, wondering who he is. Unfortunately for me, he doesn’t care that I haven’t extended an invitation or that I don’t want him in my office.
As he moves toward my desk, I angle the picture of Lucy so only I can see her. Never has he asked for a picture of her, and I never post any of my child on my social media pages, unlike the way his wife is always posting photos. I’ve seen pictures of their kids, one born only a few months after Lucy, and the other within the last year. Sometimes, at night, when I’m feeling particularly bad about things, I compare their pictures with Lucy to see what traits they share. I know that someday I’ll have to tell her about them, and about her father, but that day is not now. She’s five, and her biggest worries are whether or not her Cinderella dress is clean and if her new best friend is going to eat breakfast or dinner with us again.
“I’ve been trying to call,” Elijah says, sitting down and crossing his leg. Again, I find myself laughing because none of the men I’m around sit like this. They’re casual, even in the most formal of settings. Right now, Elijah looks like a yuppie.
“I’m working, Elijah.”
He sighs, as if I’m the one bothering him. And because I want to irritate him, I pick up my phone and bring it to life. Sure enough there are a slew of missed calls from him, but it’s the text messages from Travis that make me smile. I open those because he could need something from me or have news that I should know about.