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As I’m scanning articles, I stumble upon a picture of him with Amber Hope.
A quick Google search gets me sidetracked from my mission to become a football expert. He’s been photographed with her for years. There’s some insinuation that they might be more than friends, but nothing outright. Maybe that’s because of Amber’s former flame, Teddy Lance?
I stop on a particularly striking picture. Amber looks stunning in a short shimmery dress, and Slater is wearing a tux that does everything to emphasize his athletic build.
I fan myself dramatically. He. Is. Hot.
I didn’t allow myself to think it when I was with him, but there’s no harm in admitting it when I’m alone in my apartment, right?
I can’t help but wonder why they’re only friends. They’re both famous. And attractive. Theres a story there, one I’m more than a little curious about.
A call from Kelsey interrupts my detour into his private life.
“Well?” she says.
“We met. Cam twisted his arm, so Slater let me into his apartment.”
“And?” She clearly wants to gossip.
“I signed a confidentiality agreement.” Cam sent it to me before he sent me Slater’s address. Even without the agreement, I wouldn’t reveal anything personal about him to my sister.
Kelsey huffs. “I’m not a reporter. I’m your sister and I got you the job. You can talk to me.”
“It isn’t a job. And I can talk to you, but not about Slater.”
“Why not?” It’s like we’re children all over again.
“Professional integrity, for one.”
“It’s not like you’re his therapist, Elle.”
“I’m still not going to betray his trust like that.”
Kelsey tries a different argument. “It’s not like Slater would care.”
She’s wrong. He definitely cares, and so do I. “I’m not discussing this with you.”
She heaves a sigh of frustration. Still, she knows me well enough to know I’m not talking.
“You should call Mom.”
Now it’s my turn to sigh. “Why?”
“She says you haven’t called her in weeks.”
“I talked to her on Wednesday.”
“Maybe you should just stop by her house this weekend.”
“I went last weekend.” And then, before I can stop myself, I say, “It’s your turn.”
Even though Kelsey lives in New York, she devotes more time to our mother than I do. When Kelsey is with our mother, there’s laughter and joy. When I’m with our mother, there are uncomfortable pauses amidst awkward small talk. You’d think being a psychologist would help me relate to my own mother, but nope.
“She’s coming to stay with Cam and me for a few days next week.”
The only benefit of living in the same town as my mother is that she never, ever comes to stay with me. “I’ll go see her tomorrow.”
It’ll give me the chance to cement my status as second favorite daughter. Another minute of small talk, and Kelsey clicks off without asking anything else about Slater Jones.
