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“Nope.” I pop my “p,” reach into the cabinet next to me, and grab the margarita pitcher and glasses before jumping off the counter. “Now, am I allowed to start drinking?”
Maddie grabs the cutting board and limes, then hands me the knife before thinking better of it. “Let’s keep the sharp objects away from you tonight, okay?”
I glare at her as I throw my hair up in a bun. I’m a bit of a klutz. Knives and I may have a bit of history. “That was one time, Mads. Come on.”
She waves the paring knife in front of my face. “One time and twelve stitches. I’m not in the mood to go to the hospital tonight, D. Now, sit down and tell me what it was like meeting Max Kingston.”
My cheeks flame when I remember the current of electricity that jolted between us outside the elevator. “He was an arrogant jerk. A hot one, but definitely a jerk who expected everyone to bow to him. He was just...” I trail off, searching for the right words, annoyed with myself that my mind chooses to focus on that instead of his family stealing the team out from under mine.
“Oh, he really is. I’ve met him once or twice at Brandon’s games. Max Kingston wears his power like a second skin I’d like to run my fingers all over.” She runs a lime over the edge of our margarita glasses before rimming them with salt and pouring the sweet nectar of the gods in.
Once she hands me one, we clink glasses.
“He’s going to be my new boss, Mads. I will not be touching his skin.” Not if he was the last man on Earth. The lie filters through my head so easily, I almost believe it.
“Whose skin?” comes from a familiar voice in the doorway.
Followed by Dixon’s baritone, “New boss?”
I turn my head and squeal when I see Carys and Chloe standing next to Dix. Jumping from my chair, I wrap my arms around Carys. “Oh my God, you’re never allowed to be gone this long again.” I haven’t seen my best friend since Christmas. I think I cried when she told me she was going to college in California. “Seven months is too long. And no, phone calls don’t count.”
She squeezes me back, then pats my arm. “I missed you too, but I can’t breathe, D.”
Dix grabs a bottle of vitamin water from the fridge and smiles. “Hey now... I found them out front. Why don’t I get greeted like that?”
Chloe rolls her eyes from across the room. She’s known Dixon for a few years. Her brother, Brady, and Carys’s brother, Murphy, both played football with him in college. “Whatever, Dix.” She sits down at the table and pushes out the chair next to her for him. “Now, where are we ordering from? I’m starving.”
* * *
“Okay... Let me get this straight.” Carys dips the crust of her pizza in the ranch dressing on her plate, then points it at me. “You told your father you’d stop by tonight, and he told you not to come. Did he tell you why?”
“Did he seem okay?” Maddie adds.
I sip my second margarita and lick the salt from my lips as I shake my head. “He said he needed some time. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, ‘Thanks for saving my job, Dad. But maybe a heads-up would have been nice.’ It just didn’t seem like the right time or place to do it.” I look between the three of them. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful he guaranteed my job for the next year, but I’m just so... I don’t know. I’m angry, and I’m sad. And I think I’m hurt too.” I run my finger along the salt falling down the side of my heavy, green stemmed glass. “I might not have ever wanted to take over the team, but I wanted to run the charitable department. I wanted to be a piece of the organization my grandfather built. That my mother was supposed to run.” I wipe at my face before the tears can fall. “I love that team. I guess I just thought it would always be a part of my family.”
Cinder, our gray-and-white long-haired cat, jumps up on my lap and nudges her head under my hand, directing me to run it over her back the way she likes before she swishes her tail in my face and moves on to Maddie. Mads and I found her as a kitten who’d been left out in a box during our sophomore year of college, and we took her in. She’s a prickly little girl, but even she feels bad for me.
Fuck. I hate pity. Even coming from a cat.
“I’m going to stop by the house tomorrow after work. My mistake today was giving him a heads-up. Tomorrow, I’m just going to show up. What’s he going to do? Turn me away from the house I grew up in?” It wouldn’t be the first time. Dad shut down for months after Mom’s death. It was awful. I was only a little girl, and I still remember how alone I felt.
I hope to God he doesn’t do it again.
Maddie pushes her salad away and stands from the couch. She’s a diabetic, and pizza is not something she tends to indulge in. It can wreak havoc on her sugars. “Maybe you should give him some time, D. If you push him before he’s ready to talk, you might not like what he has to say.”
“I guess. But I have a feeling, after my first day working for Max Kingston tomorrow, I’m going to need the answers from Dad. Not just want them.”
“Max isn’t that bad, D.” Carys’s stepbrother isn’t her only family member working for the Kings. Her stepfather is their head coach.
I bristle at her words. I don’t want to hear that he’s not the bad guy right now. Not yet. Because if the Kingstons aren’t the bad guys in all this, then I think my dad is.
“Give him a chance.” She says it more like an order than an idea.
“Easier said than done.” I watch Carys play with the bracelet on her wrist. “Speaking of chances. Are we going to discuss why you decided to end things?”
“Good luck,” Chloe snorts. “She hasn’t told me shit.”
Maddie walks back into the living room with a full pitcher of margaritas in hand. “Ohh, wait. I want to hear this too. Has there been a status change with... wait... what are we calling him?”
Chloe and I both answer, “He who shall not be named,” much to Maddie’s amusement.
“First.” Carys points her finger around the room. “You guys are assholes. And second... Yeah. It’s over.” She reaches over and takes the pitcher out of Maddie’s hands. “But let’s focus on a much more fun topic of conversation. If we’re going to talk love lives, I want to know if we’ve found someone worthy of popping Mad’s cherry yet.”
We hear a distinctly male groan coming from the kitchen, where Dixon’s eating his dinner, before the rest of us burst into laughter, and poor Maddie just shakes her head.
And with that change in subject, my pity party is officially over.
Well, at least for tonight.
