Cole:Everything okay?
Me:We’ll talk Monday.
Cole:See you then.
I should’ve taken him up on his line of questioning. Maybe it would’ve helped to get some of this load off my chest. I’m not sure Cole Andrews, the biggest playboy on the Tampa Bay Beasts, would have much advice to give, but I guess I’ve been wrong about these things before. Still, I put him off. And that’s why I’m surprised when the front desk calls up to me fifteen minutes later.
“I have a Cole Andrews here to see you.”
“Send him up,” I say.
A minute later, he’s knocking on my door, and I open it.
“You look like shit,” he says to me, surveying me from head to toe.
I tilt my head and study him for a second. He doesn’tlooklike he just came from a wild night with two ladies at the same time, but I guess that’s not something you can see on a person.
Heartbreak, however, must be a more visual type of thing.
“Warn a guy when you’re stopping by so I can clean up a little,” I say.
“Not for me, man.” He chuckles as he steps past me into my place. “What’s going on?”
“She left.”
“You? Town? Left clothes on the floor? I’m gonna need you to be a little more specific.” He plops himself down on my couch, and I walk over and sit across from him.
“I don’t know. She needed some space, and now she’s in Vegas, probably getting back together with Archer because shealwaysgets back together with him. I think I might’ve fucked up my one chance with her.”
“She’s married to you, man. She’s not getting back together with your brother. Pull yourself together and think rationally. It’s like theonething I can count on with you.”
I shoot him a glare.
“What the hell did you do?” he asks as he sticks his feet up on my coffee table. “I thought you had this all worked out.”
“I sold my parents’ mansion.” I throw both hands up in one of thoseI don’t knowkinds of gestures.
He wrinkles his nose. “And that somehow fucked your relationship with her?”
“She wanted it. She wanted to acquire it for her brand, gut it, reno it, and turn it into a wedding venue.”
“Ahh,” he says, nodding as he moves his feet back to the floor and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “Why didn’t she buy it first if she wanted it?”
“Finances, for one thing.”
“So you sold it to someone who had the money, thus killing that conversation,” he guesses.
“Yeah. A cash offer that killed her dream, apparently. I guess I didn’t know I needed her permission to sell my own parents’ house.”
“Fucking women,” he commiserates.
“Yeah…except truth be told, it’s not all that simple. She has a point. It should’ve been a decision we made together. A partnership. She feels betrayed that I sold it without telling her. She found out from Zillow.”
He holds a hand to his chest in mock surprise. “From Zillow?” he repeats.
I chuckle. “Yeah. She should’ve heard it from me. I knew she wanted it, but I wanted to distance myself from it. I put up money to get my dad out of prison, and when the sale closes, I’ll get my money back. But it’s not just that. She feels like I don’t believe in her vision, in her dream.”
“Because of one house?” He looks confused.
