Page 58 of For the Boys
For much of the night, Winters had been a spectator to the conversations at the table, until Penelope made a comment about immigration that resulted in a twenty-minute long debate.
“I’m just saying that immigration issues are getting out of control in this country,” Penelope was saying. “Isn’t freedom and having a safe place to call home a basic human right? Shouldn’t we be doing everything we can to help these people?”
“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Winters was saying, “but I don’t think it’s entirely as black and white as you’re making it out to be.”
Penelope barked out a laugh. “As an upper-class white man, you would see it that way.”
“Okay, okay,” Brent said. “Let’s change the topic. This event is supposed to be fun!”
Jordan took over, steering the conversation into safer waters.
The night progressed in much the same vein. Once they dispersed after dinner, Brent found himself in the corner with Mitch and Chase.
“The auction’s about to begin,” Chase said conversationally. “Wanna bet on whose jersey goes for the highest amount?”
Mitch made a derisive noise in his throat. “Please, Olsson. We both know it’ll be me.”
Brent laughed at that. “Not to toot my own horn here, bro, but have you seen all this?” He gestured to himself from head to toe.
Chase punched Brent’s arm, but Mitch considered him. “You know what, Jean, you do have a point. I guess that explains why that chick over there hasn’t taken her eyes off you all night.” Mitch nodded across the room, and Brent turned his attention in the direction indicated.
Anna Hartley stood with a group of women, a glass of wine in her hand. She gave Brent a little nod and wink when she caught him looking, then turned back to her conversation.
“Anna’s been making eyes at me all night?” Brent asked, incredulous. “I doubt it.”
“I noticed her walk in, and I’ve been keeping my eye on her,” Mitch said. Brent quirked an eyebrow. “What? She’s hot. Anyway, every time I’d glance at her from our table, she’d be looking at you. How do you know her?”
“I hired her to be the female face of FLEX.”
Brent reached his hand up to run it through his hair, remembered where he was, and dropped it back to his side. There were too many press outlets present for him to muss it. “She asked me out. I told her I was seeing someone.”
“Let me guess, she didn’t believe you.”
Brent winced. “Well, no. To be fair, I was kind of lying. Berkley and I hadn’t even met yet. But I knew I wanted to, so I didn’t think it was fair to Anna to string her along.”
Chase shook his head. “You should’ve at least slept with her, man,” he said. “I agree with Mitch. She’s hot.”
“Then you two can fight over her,” Brent said. “I’m not interested.”
Mitch gave him a knowing look. “Jean, c’mon, man. We can keep your secret.”
“What secret?”
“That you think she’s hot and want to smash her in the bathroom of this hotel,” Chase said, smirking at Brent.
“Look, I’ll admit I find her attractive. But aren’t you two conveniently forgetting about Berkley?”
“Of course not,” Mitch said. “That girl is awesome. But y’all haven’t defined the relationship yet, have you?” Chase snorted at Mitch’s use of the word “y’all.” Brent always forgot Mitch’s Georgia roots came out when he had a few glasses of wine in him.
“Well, no, we haven’t. But that hardly matters when I know she’s the only girl I want to be with.”
Chase sighed. “I miss slutty Brent.”
Brent frowned, and Mitch laughed loud enough to turn heads across the room, remarking, “I kind of do too, to be honest.” He shrugged, smirking at Brent. “Sorry Jean, but you were a lot more fun on road trips in those days. Now you’ve got us playing fucking board games and talking about our feelings.”
“Well excuse me for wanting to stop fucking around and settle down,” Brent said.
Mitch clapped him on the shoulder. “Our little baby is all grown up.”
