Page 11 of Falling for Love

“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. Feel better and let me know if I can get you anything, okay?”

I smile at her soft words. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.” I disconnect the call.

As I lie thinking, I realize I need to get away. Time alone will be good for me. A spur-of-the-moment leave from work isn’t ideal, but I have solid people who can run things while I’m gone. I’m supposed to introduce Chandler at an event in three weeks, and I’ll have to be back by then to appease him. Speaking of …

I lift the phone to text him.

I’m not going to make dinner tonight. Stomach virus. Step one in taking a break from my current life. I need time to process, to figure out how to fix things here without me ending up in jail.

I consider my next words, then type again. Also, there’s a major donor from out of town who is interested in giving a large sum to The Next Step Foundation. It’s out of town and once I meet with the potential donors, I’m going to stay for a few weeks. I need time to relax and unwind.

I see the dots telling me he’s replying.

Fine about tonight. I don’t want to catch a virus. Then … You need to be home for the annual Performing Arts Festival. As if I could forget.

I see the dots moving, telling me he’s typing, then deleting, then typing again.

Be sure you keep in touch. Where are you going?

I grind my teeth, and type: Does it matter?

It does if you want to test my patience. We may be at an impasse with the information we each have, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make your life miserable.

His threats are getting old but for now, I’ll let him have this play. I’m going to Miami.

To Jack. He deserves to know he’s going to be a father. What he does with that information afterward is up to him. I’m having this baby and one way or another, I’m going to build a new life.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jack

I love this time of day at the club, before opening when it’s not too busy. The music is playing low over the speakers and my partners and I are hanging around, waiting for the night to begin. My twin brothers are here. They both work for the Thunder, Miles as the director of community relations and marketing, and Hudson as the director of player operations. My father is rotating them in and out of different departments so they learn every detail of running the team. I’m glad at least two of his children are interested in continuing his legacy.

We went out for dinner earlier and now we’re upstairs in the VIP area, overlooking the dance floor. Miles leans against the railing while Hudson and I sit in chairs as we talk.

“I hope there are hot women here tonight,” Hudson says, then takes a sip of his IPA.

I let out a laugh. “There are always hot women here. The question is whether they’ll be interested in your ugly mug.” I’m joking, as we always do.

Hudson, the more charming of the twins, never has a problem picking up a woman for the night or asking one out. Miles, on the other hand, is the brooding brother and with his grumpy ass, I don’t know how he gets laid. But I keep that thought to myself.

“Look at me.” Hudson gestures to his face. “I have no trouble picking up women. And because he looks just like me, neither does he.” He points his IPA bottle toward his silent twin, who merely rolls his eyes.

“What’s happening with the Charleston location?” Miles asks me, changing the subject.

Every time I hear the name of the city, Taylor immediately comes to mind, and I force myself to let the memory of her go. I’m surprised by how difficult it’s been considering two months have passed since I last saw her.

I turn my attention to my brother. “Since it’s considered a historic building, we’re waiting on permission from the Board of Architectural Review to construct the outside deck and some inner changes our architect recommended.”

Lucas and Tristan flew to Charleston that same weekend I called them. They saw the space I’d found for the nightclub, agreed buying the building was a solid investment, and we made an offer that was accepted. For as fast as we’d purchased the property, I fully expect the permits and licenses to take much longer.

“Sweet. I’m happy for you,” he says. He takes a sip of his drink, the same beer as his twin. “Hey, did Rainey rope you into that Bahamas retreat she’s got planned?” He looks extremely unhappy at the prospect of time away with the family.

“He means, did she not take no for an answer?” Hudson chimes in.