Page 10 of Mission: Merry Christmas
“She’s barking orders like a drill sergeant already.”
“Maybe that’s what you need.”
“She made me drive to the grocery store.”
“Well, good for her. That’s more than I’ve been able to get you to do. I feel good about this.”
“Glad you do. I’ll either be a hundred percent or dead at the end of these three weeks.”
“Well, use this time wisely, because if you don’t mend soon, it’s not going to matter who kept your injury a secret, because there won’t be any hiding it.”
Brooke was only older by two-and-a-half minutes, but she’d always been the more responsible one. Everything she did was planned and calculated.
“Promise me you’ll let her do her job, Drew. She’s supposed to be the best in the business. Consider it your Christmas gift to me.”
“I’d rather buy you a Ferrari and forget about it.”
She laughed. “Wouldn’t want one.”
“Yeah. You’re crazy like that. Quit sending me help I didn’t ask for, and we’ll be fine.”
“Be nice to this one. You’re ruining my good name.”
“You shouldn’t have booked me under your last name then. Drew Martin? Really? You couldn’t think of something more original.” Drew Laskin just hoped the pseudonym worked. Between the fake last name, six weeks of facial scruff, and foregoing a haircut, he was happy Avery Troupe hadn’t recognized him at first glance. If he had the energy, he’d Google her to see just how good her reputation was.
Brooke laughed. “You can thank me now.”
“Thank you.” But as usual, he couldn’t hold his tongue, if for no other reason than to give her a hard time. “I guess.”
“I’ll be checking in, and I’m sending Nico over to check on you tomorrow to make sure you’re still alive.”
Nico was wise beyond his years. He was a good kid, too. Better than Drew had ever been. Growing up on a resort probably made him more mature, and he and Nico had become quick buddies. Only now that Drew was injured, there wouldn’t be any biking or playing ball. What the heck do you do with an energetic boy when you can only hobble around?
“Tell Nico to bring me chocolate,” Drew said. “She didn’t let me buy any junk food or beer. It’s not going to be fun.”
“Promise you’ll behave?” Brooke asked.
“I promise.” He jabbed the button to end the call.Promises. Women always want promises.
He shoved the phone in his pocket and limped back up to the house. He could hear Avery in the kitchen, probably still putting groceries away. Hopefully not making something horrible for him to drink.
He sat in his recliner and turned the television on.
“All right, then. I see you’re in your favorite spot.” Avery entered the room in a flurry of energy. She clapped her hands twice. “Let’s get moving. I’m scheduled to be here exactly three weeks, and based on your file, I don’t see any reason why I can’t have you in ship-shape in that time.”
“What? Now? We just got back.”
“Come on.” Clipboard in hand, she put her foot on the end of the recliner and pressed, sending him to an upright position.
Who the heck did she think she was? “Excuse me. I’m watching this.”
She lifted the remote and turned down the volume. “There’s only so much sports news. Trust me, I know it’ll replay four times on four different shows all day long. We’ve got work to do, and I’m the one to get you where you need to be.”
He sat there dumbfounded.Be nice.His sister’s words tick-tocked in his brain. She was pretty, but her overly confidant, militant style could get old fast. Maybe he should have left well enough alone with the aides they’d sent. All they had really wanted to do was lounge by the pool and tan. At least they hadn’t tried to tell him what to do.
“What makes you think you’re so qualified that you can get me back on my feet and ready for spring training by the new year? Because in case no one has told you, that’s what we’re looking at here.”
“Fair enough,” she said. “I’ll spell it out for you.”
