Page 3 of Keeping the Single Dad
I couldn’t help my incredulous snort.
“Why is that funny?” She gave me a tentative smile and watched Brodie as he skipped ahead of us through the restaurant. “It’s been five years. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about life, it’s that you can hold multiple feelings at once. You can grieve your wife and also keep yourself open to meeting somebody else. Evelyn wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone. She wanted you to be happy, Alex."
“I am happy.”
“Are you?”
I watched Brodie stabbing the air with his imaginary pirate sword, and my heart swelled. “If Brodie is happy then I’m happy.”
The last thing Brodie needed was disruption. We’d fought so hard for normality. I’d never bring someone into our lives that might walk away. It was impossible to date in my line of work, anyway. So many women wanted to hook up with a footballer for the lifestyle. How could you know who was genuine? Easier not to bother. Brodie was all that mattered.
I craned my neck to the dimly lit bar beyond. Soft piano music trickled out. A hot bath and bed were calling to me after the fitness test, but Rachel was right. It had been so long since I’d sat and enjoyed a quiet pint. Maybe I could get wild and have a bag of salted peanuts. I couldn’t turn down the opportunity of a night off-duty.
I squeezed Brodie in a hug and kissed the top of his head. “Be good for Auntie Rachel.”
“If I’m going to be a pirate. Will you get me a real sword?”
Not this again. “No swords in the house.”
His face dropped. “I need one.”
“I can’t buy you weapons.”
“A dog then?”
“We’ll talk about it later.”
“That’s a yes.” His huge grin lit his face, and he jumped up and down. My heart ached. He looked so much like his mother when he smiled.
“It’s not a yes.”
“It’s a yes.”
My sister shepherded Brodie toward the foyer. His excited squeal drifted over the rumble of the milling guests. “I’m getting a puppy!”
?
Chapter 3
Lana
Tinklingpianomusicneedledmy skin. The PR team had set up this meeting at Gabe’s pretentious hotel. I wished I’d pushed back and suggested somewhere more casual. The journalist placed her recording device on the table with a gentle click and pushed the red button. My heart quickened. I should have canceled tonight. Dad’s relapse wouldn’t stop hammering my mind. At least he wasn’t alone today. There was no way Mel would leave his side now.?
I turned my attention back to Karen Delaney. My chest tightened. It would be easy to say the wrong thing by accident. So easy to get in hot water with the team or get myself canceled. Karen had written bitchy gossip pieces about most of the squad. It was all pointless bullshit about fashion and who was fucking who. The men’s team could wear anything, and fuck whoever they wanted, and nobody batted an eyelid. The double standard made my mouth tight and grim.
?“Lana Sinclair.” Karen smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I tried to muster some enthusiasm in my response. “Lovely to meet you, too.”
It wasn’t. I’d been trying to dodge this conversation for a long time, but in the end management had forced me. If I didn’t speak to Karen, she’d write her own shit, anyway. At least this way, I’d have some say.
“Twenty-two-years old and at the top of your game. You’ve got the world at your feet.”
Her smile was syrupy sweet. Ash-blonde hair clustered in short curls around her heart-shaped face. She looked like a harmless mum waiting at the school gate. I knew better. I smoothed the smart shift dress I’d swiped from Mel’s closet and took a sip of my soft drink to buy myself some time. How best to respond? I wanted my confidence to come across, but I couldn’t risk looking smug or she’d tear me to pieces.
I settled for a non-committal smile and nod. “Thanks.”
She nodded and scribbled something in a notepad.
