Page 48 of Hard to Score

“I’m fine, Dad.”

“Okay then. I’ll make sure Scott knows you’re up here though,” he says of the office building’s lobby security officer.

“Thank you.”

“Good night then.”

And just as he walks away, I ask the question that has been circling in my mind since that first night I saw Drew. “Hey, Dad?”

Or maybe rather the question I’d been working up the courage to ask him and, since we’re the only ones left in the office, now seems to be the perfect time.

“Yeah, honey?”

“What’s the real story behind Gary Bowman?”

My father does a double take as his feet falter and his expression reflects surprise. “Gary Bowman?”

“Mm-hmm,” I murmur as his eyes hold mine, searching for an answer to a question he’s yet to ask.

I hate that my palms are suddenly sweating as I question whether or not it was smart to open my mouth, but there’s no taking it back now.

“That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” he says.

“I assumed.”

“Where’s this coming from?” He steps back into the conference room, his expression pensive.

“I was dealing with the situation with Whittier and the Raptors and I ran into Drew. He’s their second string QB.”

He nods slowly. “I know.”

“Did you keep tabs on him after . . . everything?”

“I keep tabs on everyone.” He angles his head to the side. “Was he cordial to you?”

I nod. “We spoke.”

And I give pause over the fact that I don’t tell him any more. The question is, why is it instinctual to keep what’s going on with Drew so close to the vest?

Is it because I don’t know where things are headed between the two of us and it’s premature to say anything in case it fizzles and dies out? Not saying anything would save me from yet another round of Brexton is the soft-hearted sister teasing.

Or am I keeping mum because Drew scares me? Whatever this is between us is so effortless thus far that I’m afraid to jinx it. And without knowing the whole story of Gary Bowman’s scandal and the role my father did or didn’t have in it, it possibly means my father might disapprove of us seeing each other.

My father eyes me in silence for a beat. “You spoke?”

“Briefly.” I shrug. “It was weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Weird as in our families were inseparable and then in a short period of time, we went from that to basically acting like the other never existed.” I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. “Case in point. Why do we work in the same industry and yet that’s the first time Drew and I have crossed paths?”

“I’m sure your sisters have seen him on occasion,” he says and I wonder if that’s true. And if they have, did they talk to him or pretend as if they hadn’t seen him to avoid the awkwardness?

“Have you?”

“Me?” he asks and I nod. “A few times but I’ve kept my distance out of respect for him and his family.”

“What does that mean?” I ask with a disbelieving laugh.