Page 4 of Hard to Lose

“It’s been at least two years, hasn’t it?” Lennox asks. “Finn was the last guy you were serious about and—”

“And let’s not talk about him or have this discussion at all. Shall we move on?” I ask, my smile tight and insincere.

“No, we shall not,” Dekker persists. “You don’t date.”

“I date.”

“Dating a guy and going out compared to a booty call to heat up your sheets are two completely different things.” When our father groans and shakes his head, Dekker waves her hand at him and continues. “Are you going to argue that?”

“I’m going to argue that what I do outside of work is none of my nosy sisters’ business and leave it at that,” I say.

“I’m not knocking booty calls,” Lennox says. “God knows I’ve been down a time or two—before Rush, of course—but I used to think like you . . . and there’s so much more, Chase.”

If they didn’t know that tugging on the collar of my shirt was my “tell” that I was uncomfortable, I’d be tugging on it right now. But I will not let them see me sweat. Cannot let them. I know that will just egg them on.

“Can the let’s scrutinize Chase’s life portion of the program be done now? Please?” I implore this time with a more convincing smile.

“We’re adding a goal to your list,” Dekker says with a decisive nod.

“You’re not the boss,” I say with a shrug that just earns laughter from everyone.

“We’re adding a goal because we all know you well enough to know that you’re competitive, and if we lay it out there like this, you’re too Type A not to prove to us that you can do it.”

“Wow. Really, Dekk? You think I’m that easy to manipulate?” I ask, while secretly cringing at not accomplishing a goal assigned to me.

“Yes,” all three of them respond without hesitation.

“I’m feeling a little set up here.” I laugh to ease my own nerves. “I don’t adhere to peer pressure, let alone the Chase-needs-to-have-a-boyfriend plan.”

“That’s not the plan,” Brexton says.

“Then what is?” I ask, fully aware that if the three of them are answering questions for each other, then this has been a topic of discussion behind my back.

“The goal is to get you to go on dates. At least two dates with two different men within the next two months,” Dekker says, giving me the mother look. You know, the stare that says she’s not budging.

“That’s total bullshit.” I shove my pad of paper away from me. “What will that prove? That I’m not a spinster?”

“You don’t have to get angry,” Brexton grumbles.

“I’m not angry. I’m pissed,” I state, knowing they’re one and the same. “I love that we’re all a close part of each other’s lives, but you don’t get to tell me what to do in my love life. I’m not built like you . . . and while I respect you and your personal decisions, I’d like to think you’d do the same for me and mine.”

We all stare at each other until our father sighs. “On that note . . .”

“We weren’t ganging up on her, Dad. We just want to make sure she’s happy.”

“Happiness is subjective.” I glare.

“This meeting went way off the rails,” he says with an uncomfortable chuckle. “The last thing this father needs to hear about is the sex lives and booty calls of his daughters . . . so let’s call this meeting over and get back to work.”

“You’ve heard worse,” Brexton says with a laugh.

“Why are we talking about me and not Finn Sanderson?” I ask, pulling attention back to work, off me, and on to our rival agent—and my ex-boyfriend.

“You actually want to talk about him? That’s a first.” Lennox snorts.

“Not him per se, but did any of you see the coverage of him fulfilling the Make A Wish kid’s dream to be signed with an agent and an NBA team?” I ask.

“How could we not?” Lennox says. “It’s been on every damn news station, sports channel, and newspaper. It’s maddening.”