Touchdown: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Pass To Win Book 1) (21 page)

BOOK: Touchdown: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Pass To Win Book 1)
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She pulls her drapes, which are nothing more than black sheets, shut across the window. The sheets help but a flashing pink glow still reflects against the white walls. She puts on a kettle for tea and motions for me to sit on the couch.

“Do you know Ryan well?” It is against my better judgment to ask but I can’t help it.

“I don’t know him well, but I have known him for a long time. He and my big brother were close friends in high school. Ryan’s the one who got me the job bartending at the club. I’m the club’s first ever female bartender,” she says with pride.

I can hear my grandma’s voice clear as day in my head:
Curiosity is what killed the cat, Ari girl. You don’t need to know these things.
She would say this when I would ask her what my parents were fighting about and why my brother never came home to visit once after leaving for college.
I ignore her words now, just like I did back then.

“How did you and Ryan end up here?”

She puts down the mismatched tea cups she was holding and places her hands on her slim hips and stares me down until I am forced to look away.

“What’s wrong with here? It’s a hell of a lot better than where either of us came from, and it’s an honest way to make a living.”

Just how honest is it when you make women believe you are interested in them as a person when all you are really after is their money? But I’m not about to say this out loud to Theresa for fear I will find myself out on the street in a strange neighborhood.

“I just meant that Ryan said he grew up in Boston. How did you both come to be in New York at the same club?”

“I’m sorry,” Theresa says. “I don’t mean to be so sensitive. It’s just I, and Ryan, have worked really hard to make lives for ourselves. It makes me so angry when people act like it’s not good enough, like I’m not good enough. It hurts when people who know nothing about us look down on us, or objectify us, because of what we do to support ourselves.”

I really like Theresa and don’t want to upset her but I’m curious what could make an obviously smart girl choose to live in a tiny apartment in a questionable part of the city and serve drinks in a male strip club.

“Was your life hard before coming to New York?”

Theresa laughed out loud but her mirth didn’t reach her eyes.

“My life is still hard but it’s better. I have no one to answer to and I like it that way. I left home when I was sixteen and have been on my own ever since.”

She tells me about her life living on the street until she found a home for teenage runaways. They helped her get her GED and find a job at a pet store where she fed the animals and cleaned their cages.

“It was the first time I was responsible for anything and I loved it. I would name every fish, mouse, and gerbil that came through there.”

“Why did you stop working there?”

“They couldn’t afford to pay me enough to live on and I had to leave the home when I turned eighteen. You would be surprised how well these ladies tip and the best part is no one hits on me. I worked at a hook-up place before Ryan got me this job. The things men would say to me; it was awful.”

“Is that where you reconnected with Ryan, at the hook-up bar?”

“You know him well. Yeah, it was at the bar but it was still great to see him. We grew up in the same trailer park. He had it a lot better than my brother and me but it was still rough. His parents are poor but they’re together and love him.”

I feel anguish for Theresa and all she has had to go through but a sense of relief and gratitude fills me when she says that Ryan has parents that love him. Even after the way he treated me tonight, I feel better knowing he has family and isn’t alone in the world. Though I am still pretty mad about his behavior.

I think of my own upbringing in contrast to Theresa’s. My father may have worked a lot but I know he loves me and just wants what is best for me. Poor Theresa had nothing but a string of her mom’s boyfriends as father figures and many of them sound like they were abusive. I am ashamed for how I have taken my life for granted. I can’t even be mad at Xavier. If I had bothered to take a second and think about what I want instead of just doing what everyone wants me to do, Xavier and I wouldn’t be engaged in the first place.

I’m graduating from college in a week and instead of looking for a career and an apartment that I pay for instead of my parents, I have been going to wedding cake tastings and diving blindly into a life I don’t want.

I’m glad I came home with Theresa. For the first time, I see things with a fresh perspective. I am calling off the wedding and I am going to stand on my own two feet. I won’t take my family’s money anymore and though they will be mad at first, I know they will still love me. It’s about time I find out who I am and what I want out of life.

C
hapter
7

Aria

I
steel
myself for the call I have to make. I know I need to do it now, before I lose my courage. Theresa is still asleep so I crawl out the window onto the fire escape and take a deep, calming breath.

“Mom.”

“Aria, where on earth are you? The bridal shop called and said you didn’t show up for the final fitting. Do you have any idea how many young girls would give their first born for a custom dress from Pnina Tornai?”

The blood freezes in my veins when I hear my mom’s voice. All I can think of is how much money my family has spent on this wedding. There is the dress, the church, the reception hall, and the caterers. Not to mention the humiliation of the wedding being cancelled a few days before it’s supposed to happen.

I know I can tell her. It’s like pulling off a bandage; a really big, extra sticky bandage.

“Mom, stop talking. I’m calling the wedding off because Xavier cheated on me and I don’t love him. I’m not going to marry him.”

For the first time in her life, my mother is speechless.

“I’ve decided to stay in the city and get a job. I’m going to be independent for the first time in my life. I love you, mom, but this is something I have to do.”

“Aria, don’t over react. I’m sure Xavier was just sowing some oats before settling down with you. And the idea of you staying in the city by yourself is out of the question. I never should have let you go there for college in the first place. I knew living in the city would be nothing but a bad influence. But I thought if Xavier was there with you, it would be alright.”

“I’m hanging up now,” I tell her. “I’ll call back later after you’ve had time to digest everything.” I put down the phone before she can say any more.

Xavier has sent me about twenty texts since I caught him with Ella. They aren’t apologies so much as missives that I need to grow up and come to my senses. Why does everyone keep telling me I need to grow up?

The reality of my situation is finally dawning on me. I am supposed to move out of my apartment after I get back from the honeymoon. Much of my stuff is already packed. Will my parents let me stay there until I can get some money saved? My phone rings and the caller ID shows it’s my father. If I can take a guess, I’m about to have the answer to my question.

He doesn’t bother to say hello. Instead, he lays it all out on the table with a swiftness and severity that leaves me as speechless as my mother was with me.

“You have just over one week until the wedding. If you don’t marry Xavier as planned, you leave us with no choice but to cut you off. Your credit cards will be cancelled, your apartment closed up, and your trust put on hold. I’m sorry to be so firm with you Aria, but I will not let you throw away your future because you are upset that Xavier isn’t a prince out of a fairy tale. We will see you in a week.”

Theresa pokes her head out the window. Her red hair is a wild mess and she has raccoon eyes from the make-up she didn’t wash off last night. She is a cheering sight and I am nothing if not grateful for her.

“You look like you need coffee. Let me do something with this,” she waves at her face and hair. “Then we will go to the best diner in all of New York.”

The diner is around the corner and not a place that I would ordinarily enter, unless forced against my will. Theresa has been so nice to me, though, that I can’t possibly say anything about it. The patrons are New Yorkers of every color, shape, and size. We sit at the counter and I ask the waitress for a wet cloth to clean the sticky mess up. Theresa and the waitress both roll their eyes at me.

“We need two coffees,” Theresa turns to me, “You’re not a vegetarian are you?” I shake my head no. “Thank goodness, I don’t trust people who don’t eat meat.”

“We also want bacon, sausage, and your wonderful blueberry pancakes for two, please,” she tells the waitress.

“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with your parents.”

I stare at my coffee, not yet ready to affirm what she has already heard. Theresa, as I’m starting to learn, doesn’t care much for social cues. She ignores my silence and dives right in to the mess that is now my life.

“I think it’s really brave what you’re doing. Not many people would walk away from a sure thing. Hell, I don’t think I would. I only had the courage to leave because I knew things couldn’t be worse than what they were at my mom’s.”

“I’m not brave,” I tell her. “If it weren’t for catching my fiancé and best-friend together, I’d be at my dress fitting right now.”

“Dress fitting?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I tell her. “What I need to focus on is finding a place to stay and getting a job. I also need to go to my apartment as soon as possible and get my stuff out before my father has the locks changed.”

“He would really do that to you?”

“If I don’t do what he wants? Absolutely.”

Theresa doesn’t blink an eye at how quickly my world has fallen apart. “Let’s eat and then we’ll go get your things.” She digs into our enormous breakfast, which looks like it’s for a hearty family of six instead of two women, one of whom lives in a constant fear of carbs.

I push my hair behind my shoulders and dig in. It’s not like I have a wedding dress to fit into anymore. And despite how unassuming the surroundings, the food is absolutely to die for. In fact, if I completely lose it, end up murdering Xavier and Ella, and I find myself on Death Row, I want this breakfast from this diner to be my last meal.

My fingers and lips still sticky from maple syrup, Theresa and I head to Brooklyn to collect my things. I’m embarrassed for her to see where I live. My closet is the size of her apartment and my wardrobe can easily pay for a year’s rent.

“Aria, you are full of surprises. I know you have money, but are you kidding me?”

“I’m not rich. This is my parent’s money, and as of this morning, I no longer have access to it.”

“Damn Aria, I didn’t realize you were walking away from all this. You really are brave.”

“Brave and stupid,” I say. “I have nowhere to live and no income, my family has cut me off. Maybe I’m making a mistake.”

“Don’t you dare say that, Aria. Your parents are jerks for wanting you to marry someone you don’t love. You’re coming home with me and I’ll get you a job at the club. It will tide you over until you can find something better with that fancy degree of yours.”

Tears spring into my eyes and I try to wipe them away before she notices.

Theresa pushes my hand away from my face and gives me a tight hug.

“It’s okay to need help Aria. If it weren’t for the kindness of strangers, I would probably be standing on a street corner right now.”

What did I do to deserve meeting such a generous soul in my greatest time of need? I hug her back even more tightly than she hugged me.

“Thank you, Theresa. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I’m just paying it forward, Aria. And we’ll see if you’re singing the same tune after you spend all night pouring drinks for crazed women and then have to sleep on my ancient couch. Now tell me, what in this glorious closet of yours can you not live without?”

Two hours and two stuffed-to-bursting suitcases later, and we are heading back to Theresa’s apartment.

“I’m going to call Mickey and get you a job working the bar. Do you know how to mix drinks?”

I have never worked a day in my life and the only drink-mixing skills I have constitute topping off my mom’s Cabernet with a Super Tuscan. But I am not in a position to quibble over anything right now. So I smile and nod just like I used to do at Xavier’s client dinners and tell Theresa I can do it.

It’s not really a lie, I tell myself. If I can finish business school and master client dinners with Xavier, I can mix drinks for drunk women that mostly want change to give to their favorite dancers.

“We may need to lie about your experience. But that’s okay. Ryan lied about my experience to Mickey, so I’ll just do the same for you,” Theresa says.

“Don’t lie,” I tell her. “We need to spin my experience. As in, I have attended many catered collegiate functions and black tie events. They don’t need to know that it was as a guest instead of a server.”

“I love it! To be honest, you will be way better at dealing with the high maintenance guests than I am. After all, you’ve been one.”

Theresa covers her mouth with her hand the second after the words come out of her mouth.

“I’m sorry Aria. I didn’t mean to imply you’re high maintenance or anything.”

I pretend for a second to be offended but I know how ridiculous it all is.

“I was high maintenance, but not anymore. I am done with expecting people to cater to me and take care of me. So what better way to start off my new life than as a server for women who expect to be catered to? And until I can pay rent and stop freeloading off of you, I am going to clean, cook, and do the laundry for us.”

“I think you are about to get a healthy dose of reality but I know you can handle it. And if you actually cook for me, I may not let you move out once you’re self-sufficient and standing on your own two feet.”

I wish I could shrug her words off but I know she is right. I am indeed clueless as to what it means to be self-sufficient and I am about to learn the hard way.

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