“Hi Mrs. Baker! Hey Jingle!” I call out to the poor emasculated dog. Chess has already slid from my arms and put about four feet between us. I give her a head shake and tell her ‘show time’ as we head over to greet Mrs. Baker and her wild animal. Chess’s face falls slightly, but with her next breath she sets her shoulders and puts on that fake smile of hers. I’ve seen it the few times I’ve found articles of her online, at an event with that asshole Nick who worked with her at Goldman.
“Oh, you two are just the most gorgeous couple!” she swoons. “Please come down and see me at the diner. Breakfast is on me today!”
“Oh, that’s unnecessary, Mrs. Baker, but thank you. We’re just finishing?—”
“That sounds great, we’ll be down once I race Chess around this track one more time. So far, she’s won each time and I have to redeem myself,” I say as I grab Francesca’s hand and tug her closer.
Mrs. Baker sees our hands join and squeals again like an elf putting together his first toy for Santa’s workshop. “Ok toodle-ooo!”
Francesca pulls her hand from mine. “What are you doing?”
“Come on, this is a perfect opportunity to show off our new relationship. It’s Sunday, the diner will be packed, and I’m sure everyone has seen the picture, so let’s make it official.”
She stares at me a little too long. “Did I say something wrong? Is this not the way PR works?”
She takes another deep breath and I try to avoid staring at the way her chest heaves when she does so. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry this is just really fast, though I should have been prepared once that picture was posted.”
“You’re still ok with this, right?”
Please say yes, please say yes.
Why am I begging?
“Yes. Fine. Everything is fine.” That wall just slammed right up in my face. How am I going to get her to trust me?
“The article? You saw the press release, right?” Again, please say yes, I don’t want this to be a surprise to her.
She exhales, “I saw it. It wasn’t bad, got the point across. We’ve got them talking now. We’ll have to follow up with an official statement.”
She takes my hand, but her fingers are stiff. “Do you want to finish your run or head over now?”
I study her face and she is looking everywhere but at me. “We can go now.”
“Yes, good idea. Let’s get this over with.” She heads to the parking lot, towards our cars.
I don’t like the way she says, ‘get this over with.’ It doesn’t sit right with me. I don’t want this over with. I want it to be just the beginning. But how do I break that news to herandher brother?
I’ll second guess those last few thoughts repeatedly for the next few weeks while I come to terms with all these strange thoughts of my own. I’m not cut out for relationships. I’m better off alone, not being a burden and sticking to my original plan, which is to leave.
She knows the deal; we agreed. I won’t go changing it up now.
Chapter 11
Francesca
Okay, I’m doing this. I’m really doing this. I’m not Adam’s little sister. I’m not Frank Casanovas’ daughter and I’m not even Francesca Casanova, the PR chick who couldn’t cut it in the big city. Right now, I am Chess Casanova, Jackson Gage’s girlfriend.
I knew it was different with Jackson when I hit seventh grade and he was the ‘big man on campus’, even at fifteen years old. I was twelve years old, but I knew my feelings for him differed from anyone else. I had a crush on him all throughout high school, but I couldn’t say it out loud. My brother’s best friend was so ingrained in our family it was like he was another brother in the house.
Come to think of it, I’m sure Adam pushed hard for that to make sure nothing ever started between us. But why would it? I was the annoying little sister, and they were hot jocks. Adam, being the oldest, was so overprotective and still is, of his little sister. He looked out for the twins too, but when they hit six feet tall in ninth grade, he didn’t have to watch over them as much anymore. But I was still their little sister, no matter how old I was.
So, when I left to go away to college, then got a job in the city hours away, right after graduation, it killed Adam. But I needed to do it for me and for him. He needed to learn to let go, and that I was capable, and Ineeded to know that I could do it on my own as well. But I never stopped following Jackson. I watched him graduate and go to college and when I graduated, he was entering the draft. I was so excited and so happy. I knew he would make it.
I just didn’t realize how far he would fall from the person he was.
And now I’m sitting here withtheJackson Gage, #5, of the Carolina Warriors. He may not play anymore, but he’s still a superstar, a first-round draft pick who made it in the NFL. And now I’m sitting across from him in little old Christmas, and everyone is fawning over us like we’re the new NFL power couple.
Jackson squeezes my hand and pulls me from my thoughts. “Coffee babe?” he asks with a brow raised as I look up and see Tiffany standing at our table with the carafe.
