Page 24 of Puck King
“But Everleigh, she looks almost thirty.”
Everleigh took a sip of the smoothie. The blueberry drink had stained her lips, giving her a very Joker-like smile. “She’s twenty-nine.”
“Everleigh.” I groaned.
“Look.” Everleigh slammed the glass on the polished concrete counter so hard I was worried it might break. “You have to take this seriously. I chose Alison because she is an intelligent and reasonable woman. Not everyone would agree to this, and I knew that she would.”
I scrunched my forehead at my sister. “How did you know?”
Everleigh leaned against the counter and stirred the smoothie with her finger. “That doesn’t matter. I chose her because I knew that you wouldn’t fuck her.”
“You’re enjoying this.” I took the smoothie from her and downed it.
“Hey!” She grabbed the glass from my hand. “I’m doing my job. I’m not enjoying being the general manager of the worst team in the league. Focus on the game, Colton, and don’t read into this. I’m not punishing you, I’m helping you.”
I handed her the empty glass. “You can help me by rinsing this out.”
She gave me an eye roll and I stood back as she turned on the tap. The pressure of the spray shot into the glass and ricocheted all over Everleigh’s cream-colored dress. “Ugh. Grow up, Colton.” She grabbed a paper towel and dabbed at her chest. “Just read the contract, show up to work, and get the team back on track. That’s all you’ve got to do. Got it?”
She stormed to the door.
“Where are you going?” I leaned against the counter and pretended like I was upset she was leaving.
“I can’t go to work like this.”
“Like what?”
She turned on her heel and stepped into the elevator without saying another word. We loved to hate each other, and I knew that she’d get over the old sprayer trick just like I’d be able to get over this fake girlfriend situation – when it was over. In the meantime, I cursed my sister as I read through the list of dates. They went from bad to worse, and ended with the charity gala. Last year I’d taken a Victoria’s Secret model.
After my sauna and shower I picked up my phone and tapped out a text.
The schedule says we’re supposed to go for a walk tomorrow and get coffee.
I was about to call Everleigh to see if this morning’s walk could count, but before I could text my sister a message came from Alison.
Can this morning’s count?
My laugh was involuntary and it surprised me. Was she a mind reader?
Instead of texting Everleigh to see if we’d already fulfilled date one, I tapped a response to Alison.
Same coffee shop, same time tomorrow?
Her reply came quickly. It was a thumbs up. At least she wasn’t sending me paragraph-long texts full of weird acronyms.
Truthfully, I could’ve told Everleigh we had already fulfilled the coffee and walk, but a part of me had actually enjoyed the morning. Alison had an edge to her, one that had made my day a little more interesting. I caught myself smiling as I imagined walking to work with Alison every day. If anything, it would be entertaining.
But when I woke up the next morning, something weird happened. As I left the loft, my stomach churned and I wondered if Everleigh had added some laxatives to the smoothie. It wouldn’t have been the first time. My hair was still wet from the shower and I smoothed it down before putting on my wool hat. It wasn’t until I was halfway to the coffee shop that I realized the feeling in my stomach was the same one I always got before any big game.
I was on my way to see Alison.
And I was nervous.
Twelve
Alison
I knewthat Colton had arrived when the dark morning sky erupted in flickers of camera flashes. From where I was sitting in the back of the coffee shop, it could’ve been lightning.
