Page 81 of Fashionista's Playbook

I glanced up, welcoming the distraction from my pity party. “And they are?”

“I wanted a chance to talk to the woman Travis is spending time with.”

“That’s a very diplomatic approach.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty good with words. But I’ve seen some changes in Travis,”—he gave a sharp tilt of his chin, asking me to hear him out. “For the better. He’s more focused than he has been, less… sad.”

Something in my heart lurched. Even lost in my own trauma, I couldn’t help but think of his. If I made life less sad for Travis, dealing with my sister and his brother was worth it. “Well, I’m glad of that.”

“When I met Travis, he was a wild kid with a lot of potential. He came to a camp his senior year, when his brother was in prison. Amazing athletic ability, a no quit attitude. He made an impression on me. Signing him to the Outlaws is one of the best decisions I’ve made as GM.” He smiled, turned and looked into the living room where everyone else milled around. “There are reasons he keeps his brother close, events that happened no one else will understand. But the negative influence was starting to show. Missed workouts, late nights. And then you came along. The balance works well for him, which helps the team.”

“And all of that makes your job easier.” I peeked out the door as my mom talked with Travis.

She was practically beaming as he spoke to her. Judging by the passion I could see on his face, he was talking about Travis’ Kids. Maybe even telling her about the space he was looking for to start an afterschool program.

“And makes his life easier.” Lincoln gestured to the room full of people. “It’s not always about the job. I met Travis as I transitioned from playing, realizing I’d never have a career onthe field. He helped me see that I wanted to coach—that football was my life even if I wasn’t throwing on pads.”

The emotion that bloomed in my chest was welcome. It slid into all the dark places Elise’s arrival had churned up and made everything lighter, made me stronger. Mercer topped off his wine glass, then the one I’d carried.

“He creates his own family.” I mused into the wine.

“Yes, he does.”

We exchanged a glance. Lincoln Mercer was much more than Travis’ boss. He was a mentor, a friend, and a member of the family he’d made for himself.

Mercer draped a companionable arm over my shoulder and gestured with his glass. “Shall we?”

And when I walked through the doors and into the dining room to face Elise, I did so with my back straight and head up.

I smiled up at Linc and walked into the room, fortified against Elise’s presence. I was the cool kid now, she was nothing.

Travis entertained my mother and the two small boys, while my sister practically crawled all over DeSean near the appetizer table I’d set out earlier. Who, to his credit, was as smooth and polite as any man I’d ever met. My dad, Vincent, and DT crowded around the television watching the traditional Dallas Thanksgiving game.

“There you are, Moriah” Elise cut DeSean anI told you soglance. “Get everything taken care of?” She gave the appearance of innocence and sweetness, but my stomach churned. At least she wasn’t all over Vincent. Those two together would be more trouble than I could comprehend.

I blinked at her. “Everything is just fine.” I tried for peppy, but my words had more squeak than I meant for them to. Elise could have been telling any number of things to DeSean, passive aggressive taunts against me, said with a sweet smile and a laugh to cover up the mean intent.

Travis’ eyes narrowed and he watched me closely. There was so much I wanted to tell him, needed to tell him, and the big house was suddenly too crowded for any of it.

“Dinner is ready.” Lincoln ignored her completely and winked at my mother. “This beauty gets to sit by me, right?”

Mom laughed and blushed a little. And maybe, just maybe, there was a small flash of jealousy in my father’s eyes before he smiled. “I don’t see why not.”

Lincoln left my side to lead Mom away. The boys still played around Travis’ feet, as if there wasn’t a giant of a man towering over them.

“Hey boys,” Elise piped up and grabbed a few carrots from the tray. “Here.” She popped one into each little boy’s mouth before standing with a third poised a few inches from Travis’ mouth.

And this is why Elise exhausted me. Everything was a competition. Winning, besting me and humiliating me, hadn’t given her whatever it was she looked for. She’d always be like this.

My blood scalded like molten lava. Dad wasn’t the only Stanhope who could get jealous. My vision narrowed and my nostrils flared. The heat in my face had little to do with the wine and everything to do with her. I wasn’t upset or beaten down—I was pissed.

Travis pulled his face back and shook his head, artfully stepping around Elise. “No thanks.” And then he glanced at me, his eyes holding a question.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Travis

“I’m sorry, Moriah.” I blurted as soon as I led her into a small library under the stairs. The shelves were empty, because it was another room I had no use for. Maybe she would, if I moved her in. “If I’d known they would bring her I wouldn’t have suggested you invite them.”

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