I can only imagine what would happen if I took Brooks home to meet the family. Dad would hate his easygoing ways. Mom would perish as soon as he turned his smirk on her, then she’d deem him below our standards.And Drew… I frown.Well, Drew apparently hates him already.
How do I tell Drew that I know Brooks? Moreover, how do I convince Drew to vote for Brooks to fight again?
I nibble on my bottom lip and ponder this. It’s not like Drew needs to know everything that’s going on in my life, and I don’t share that level of detail with him anyway. Besides, we do have a great relationship, and it’s possible that Brooks justthinksDrew dislikes him. Drew can have a great poker face when he’s serious, and he’s serious about work.
My phone is heavy in my palm, so I bring it to my face and find Drew’s name in my texts.
Me: You busy?
Drew: Always. Why? What’s up?
Me: Can I call you really quick?
Drew: Sure.
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter, pressing the call button. It rings twice before he picks up. “Hey, Drew.”
“Hi, Aud. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing much,” I say, kicking a rock down the road. “Just getting some sunshine. It’s been snowy and rainy here for what feels like forever.”
He hums, obviously distracted.
“What about you?” I ask. “What’s going on in your world this weekend?”
“Getting situated in my new apartment. I have people here helping me get unpacked. Hang on a sec.” The line grows fuzzy. “That …. No. What are you doing? That goes in the back bedroom.” He pauses. “Sorry about that. Everything is clearly labeled so you’d think they could figure out where shit goes.”
I frown, uncertain how to take Drew’s attitude. “Maybe they got confused.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
I switch the phone between my hands and bring it to my other ear. Suddenly, I’m not sure how to approach the topic of Brooks. I’d really like to just leave it alone altogether, but I told him I’d put in a good word with Drew. Itwasmy side of the bargain. And if I want him to follow through with his promises, which I do, then I have to make good on mine.
“So,” I say, taking a steadying breath, “how’s the new job?”
“There will be a formal announcement on Wednesday, I think. Maybe Thursday. There’s still paperwork being finalized, but then I’m expected to take the seat starting a week from Monday.”
“That sounds fun. What is it, exactly, you’ll be doing? I don’t think you’ve said.”
“Back bedroom,” he says to someone else. “Sorry, Aud. I’ll be on the NAFL Combat Commission. It’s a four-year term. But I’m also opening a gym out here in the meantime.”
I nod as my heart starts to race. This sounds exactly like what Brooks was describing—a commission that gets to decide if he fights again or not.Great.
“In a very strange turn of events, I know someone who I think you’ll be … encountering soon,” I say, choosing my words carefully.
“Really? Who?”
“Brooks Dempsey.”
“What?” His tone is so icy that I flinch. “How the hell do you know that piece of shit?”
I curl my nose at his crudeness. “We met recently.”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. At all. “Stay away from him, Audrey.”
“Why?” I ask with a bit more attitude than is probably helpful.
“Because Brooks Dempsey is a no-good motherfucker, that’s why. I don’t need to go into any more detail than that.”
