Game Saver (13 page)

Wednesday afternoon, I’m lying on my couch binge-watching
Friday Night Lights
—because hello? Coach Taylor and Riggins—when my home phone rings.

“Hello?”

“So my daughter is still alive?” my mother shrieks melodramatically.

“Hey Mom.”

“Hey yourself. I’ve been trying to get hold of you for a week.”

“Why didn’t you call my cell?”

“You know I refuse to subject you to those cancerous creations.”

“Mom,” I say with a laugh, “if I’m not home, that’s usually the only way to get hold of me.”

“I don’t care. I’d rather not be the reason my only daughter gets sick.”

I roll my eyes, comfortable in the knowledge she can’t see me.

“How are you?” she asks.

“I’m good. Really good,” I reply honestly.

“And are you going out, living life?”

“Aren’t I always?”

“No, you’re usually working your cute little ass into the ground and sleeping the rest of your life away.”

As you can imagine, my mom knows why I work so hard and what jobs I have. My parents have always supported me in everything I’ve done, and despite the situation my ex left me in, they’ve never once doubted that I would come out of it on top. They’d offered to bail me out, but my ego refused to accept their help.

“You sound different—happy . . .”

“I’m always happy,” I reply.

“That you are, but this is a good happy.” She gasps and claps loudly. “You’re getting some!”

“Mom!”

“What? Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m not. I just don’t want to discuss my sex life with my mother.”

“So there is a sex life . . .”

“Mom!”

“Precious, everyone has needs. Even your father and I—”

“Gross. I’m definitely not taking about that!”

“Oh Abi Jane, why do you think I’m so happy all the time? Your father and I have—”

“No, no, no! Mom. There’s a line.”

She cackles, sounding absolutely delighted with herself. “I didn’t raise you to be a prude.”

“I’m not!”

“A little bit defensive there . . .”

“Mom . . .”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Now tell me who this lucky man is.”

“It’s just casual.”

“Oh, they’re always fun. I had a few of those before I met your dad.”

Um . . . eww.

“And how did you meet?

I grin at that because my mom is the biggest gossip I know. She harasses my brothers of their love lives more than me.

“We met at a bar originally, but he’s friends with Dani’s boyfriend and their friends.”

“And what does he do?” she asks in a singsong voice.

“He’s a doctor.”

“Oh my God. That’s awesome. I’ve got this weird bump on the side of my wrist, and I—”

“Mom! Do not ask him to check it out when you meet him,” I reply without thinking, and being my mother, she doesn’t miss it.

“So I’ll be meeting him then?”

“No . . . I mean . . . maybe . . . Oh, I don’t know. Stop it!” I reply, getting flustered.

“You like him!” she exclaims.

“Mom . . .” I warn.

“You do! So when are you bringing him home to meet your father and I?”

“What is this? The 1950s?”

“Abi-Jane Cook, you listen to me. If you have a new man in your life, your family will want to share in this newfound happiness.”

“Mom, no. Just no. It’s not like that, and now I bet you’re going to get off the phone and ring the boys and tell them all about it, and I’ll have four macho idiots knocking down my door demanding a word with Cade.”

“Oooh, Cade. Is that his name? I like it.”

“Mom,” I groan and drop my head back to rest on the back of the couch, my eyes closing in exasperation.

“I promise, precious. I’ll wait at least an hour before telling your brothers, and I’ll make them swear not to come down too hard on the boy.”

“He’s a man. A grown man. With a life, and a house, and a busy, demanding job saving lives. He does not need the ‘big brother’ speech. Especially since nothing serious is going on!” My voice gets all growly towards the end, and I can only hope my mother gets me.

“Okay, Abi. It’s alright. This one is special. We’ll give you some time. Oh, look at the time. Must go. Keep in touch and we’ll catch up soon, okay?”

“Mom, I—”

“Bye, precious,” she says, interrupting me and ending the call before I can protest any further.

It is almost two weeks after the fundraising ball, and today is the shelter for the homeless ribbon-cutting soiree.

I’ve chosen a sapphire blue tea dress with capped sleeves, a sweetheart neck, and a hemline that came to just above the knee, finished off with blush pumps. My hair is smooth and sleek, my makeup accentuating but understated, and overall, I feel more in ‘character’ this time around.

I don’t know why I’m compelled to do so but I know it’s not for appearances’ sake, or to make his parents happy, but for Cade.

This fake girlfriend assignment goes better than the first. The homeless shelter is one of the busiest in the city and has recently been expanded and completed renovated, a multi-agency initiative made possible by a sizeable donation from the Carsen Family Trust. Cade has shown me around the building, explaining to me all the new features and services available including room for fifty more beds than before.

Cade Senior and Annabel have been friendly from the moment we arrived, although Cade’s father still has a calculated look in his eye when he glances at me that I can’t quite work out. His mother even asks me how I’ve been and urges me to ensure Cade and I came over to Castle De Carsen—my name, not hers—for dinner with the family. Callie rolls her eyes at the invitation and gives me an understanding smile when I politely acquiesce to her request, advising that I will talk to Cade to organize a night off. Annabel has placed her perfectly coiffed hand on my forearm and squeezes gently, her medically-preserved eyes—if the lack of expression is anything to go by—softening as far as science will allow.

I’m standing by the food table when Callie nudges me with her elbow. “God, I swear I could eat a house right now. Probably explains why I’m the size of one,” she announces.

Unable to stop myself, I giggle and turn towards her, making a point of looking down to her perfectly shaped—and far from house-sized—baby bump, showcased in a cute-as-a-button baby-doll maternity dress.

“As if. You look amazing,” I reply.

“Oh, I hope you stick around. If you ever get sick of Cade, make sure you give me a heads up so I can kick his ass first.”

Looks like I have the big sister’s approval. Good to know.

Before I can work out what to say—I mean, what does one say to that—Callie continues, “I mean, you’re real and please don’t be offended by this but totally not of this world, and that’s good—like, real good. Cade is the first to admit that this is not his scene. Hell, it’s not really my scene. But good deeds like this”—she waves her hand in the air—”where we actually use money for worthwhile causes, I’ll always support. Even if it means getting my husband to roll me out of the house.”

“It’s not Cade’s scene either,” I note, looking over at the man who just this morning dropped to his knees in the bathroom, hooked my ankle over his shoulder and ate his breakfast ‘Abi style.’ The same man that looks just as sexy naked as he does in a tailored navy blue suit.

Stop it, Abi. Stop fawning over the man who gives it to you on the regular.

“How long have you known him?” Callie asks.

“We first met eleven months ago,” I reply. The night he locked eyes with me across a crowded bar, walked right up to me, and stuck his hand up my skirt. Good times.

“That smile tells me I don’t want to know. Anyway . . .” Callie looks around then back to me, lowering her voice. “Cade and Cameron never toed the family line. They hated being rolled out like actors in a play designed to make my parents look good.” Her expression is resigned; it’s the same look I saw on Cade’s face when he first proposed our arrangement. Now having experienced the smoke and mirrors that is the Carsen Family Show, where every interaction simply brings more questions than answers, it makes me want to help Cade more than ever. He’s proven that he’s worked hard to be his own man, one that he’s proud of at the end of the day.

We’re similar in that respect. When Bryce and his addiction dragged me down all those years ago, I made a decision to do anything and everything to rise above it all. Whatever I had to do, however I had to do it, I vowed to get myself out of debt and learn from the mistakes of my past.

Cade was born into a situation where he had to make the choice to step out of the family fold and be a man he’d be proud of.

“Something makes me think you don’t like it much either,” I reply and her small nod says it all.

My eyes drift over to where Cade’s standing just as he lifts his head and looks our way. A soft smile plays on his lips.
“You okay?”
he mouths.

I nod in response.
“You?”
I mouth back.

Instead of answering, he turns back to the group of men he was talking to and moments later, heads our way.

Callie’s eyes follow my line of sight. “Oooh, my baby brother must be scared I’m telling you all his embarrassing family stories.”

“You mean you’re not?” I reply, shooting her a wink.

“You’re evil, and I love it.”

“What are you two up to?” Cade asks when he reaches us, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into him.

He’s been very tactile today, small touches here and there that tell everyone we’re together. I guess it’s part of the role he’s playing and just a tactic to affirm our relationship to watching eyes. It’s the only logical explanation. That’s not to say I haven’t liked it, but I’d never admit that. I’ve caught him watching his father more than once, almost as if he wants his father to see us together.

Probably just another part of the facade.

“Oh nothing, I’m just filling Abi in on your childhood secrets.”

Cade groans and shakes his head. “Whatever she tells you, it’s lies. All lies. And if it’s true, it would’ve been Cameron’s fault, not mine.”

“Ah, the old ‘it wasn’t me, it was my twin’ argument. My brothers pull that excuse all the time,” I reply.

Callie’s eyes meet mine in solidarity. “So you feel my pain?”

“Totally. Except I’ve also got two more brothers, all of them banding against me.”

“Oh dear God. Just having two brothers were bad enough. Four? Shit . . .”

I giggle, and Cade’s hand at my waist gives me a gentle squeeze, grabbing my attention. “I’ve just got to make the rounds to say goodbye and then we can go if you’d like.”

“Sounds good.”

He turns to his sister. “Do you need a ride home, Cal?”

Her eyes go soft, her love for her brother clear as day. “I’m okay. I came with Mom so I should probably wait for her. But thanks for the escape plan.”

“Always.” He lets me go and steps forward to give his sister a hug, his hand dropping to rub her baby bump. “Look after my nephew.”

“It’s a girl, you know.”

“You need to have another one then to take the pressure off me and Cam and produce another Carsen male.”

“Go away,” she says, shoving his arm with a laugh.

“You want to meet me outside?” he asks me.

“I’ll just visit the restroom and then come find you. Sound like a plan?”

“Perfect.” He rests hand on the small of my back, tipping my chin back with a finger under it before giving me a socially appropriate—albeit borderline—kiss, his eyes smiling.

“See you soon,” he murmurs against my lips, my answering “okay” breathy and totally giving away how much I like it.