Page 92 of Love in Fine Print

The secret to my record of success was always knowing what was most important to my client, so they walked away happy with the outcome even if they didn’t get everything they wanted. The problem I was facing in this negotiation was being unclear about who my client was. If I were representing my vagina, then I would happily agree to his counter. If my client was my heart, I needed to really consider what the implications of this new arrangement would be.

Ben walked around the back of the desk and stood behind me. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up just having him near me. With an unrushed authority, he leaned down so his arms were on either side of me and his hands were resting on the desk, caging me in.

The heat of his breath fanned against my neck as he whispered against my ear, “I know you’re considering the implications of what signing the contract means. So I’ll tell you. If you sign that paper, I’m going to pick you up, carry you upstairs, strip you naked, and make sure you forget about any implication other than how good it feels to come on my mouth, my hand, and my cock.”

My core throbbed as I lifted my pen and initialed next to his changes. It looked like I was representing my vagina, and I had a feeling she was going to be extremely happy with what was going tocomeout of this, namely me.

40

BEN

I rereadthe text that I’d just gotten from Olivia as I sat in the backseat of the Uber. It was simple, just five words.

Olivia:Have fun. See you soon.

My entire body filled with warmth as I stared down at the message. It wasn’t what she’d said that got me, it was the photo that she’d sent along with it. Olivia’s hair was pulled up in a bun, and she was wearing my t-shirt and sweats with Dolly snuggled up beside her on the couch. I’d been away from them for about twelve hours, but it felt like twelve days. I missed them.

An ache I wasn’t familiar with panged in my chest as I put my phone away and glanced out the window at the snow-covered landscape. I’d spent most of my adult life in Minnesota, and when I left, when I retired, I assumed it would always feel like home to me. This was the first time I’d been back in over a year, and although it felt familiar, it didn’t feel like home.

My eyes lowered back down to the photo. This photo was home. My girls were my home. You might as well call me Tony Bennet because I left my heart in San Francisco.

For the past two months, Olivia and I had shared a bed together. Dolly, too, for that matter. The thought of spending thenext two nights in a hotel bed alone was not appealing in the slightest.

As we pulled up to the restaurant where the dinner was being held, the Uber driver turned in his seat.

“Thanks, Tim. Appreciate it,” I said as I started to get out.

“No problem!” Tim’s eyes shined with excitement beneath the blue beanie he wore as he turned in his seat toward me. “Do you mind if we take a selfie?”

“Sure, no problem.” People asked for pictures a lot more in Minnesota than they did in California. In San Francisco, I could go a week without anyone recognizing me and asking for an autograph or photo. But I’d been asked for a half dozen just walking through the airport after I landed.

Tim, who was probably in his late fifties, took out his phone and leaned toward the center of the car. I grinned behind him as he snapped several shots before lowering the phone. “Thanks, Rocket Man.”

“No worries!” I started to get out again but was stopped once more.

“Hey, since I got you here, is there any truth to the rumors?”

I had a pretty good idea I knew the rumors he was talking about, but I asked, “What rumors?”

“That you’re coming out of retirement. Are you?”

“Not that I know of.” I smiled before grabbing my duffel bag and stepping out of the car.

I could see the disappointment in Tim’s expression, and I had to admit, I felt it, too. The longer I was away from the game, the more I missed it.

“Take care,” I said before closing the door and heading inside the restaurant.

After dropping off my duffel bag with the hostess, she’d directed me down the hallway to where the dinner was being held. My mind was unsettled as I made my way to the back of thesteakhouse. When I’d played ball, my life had been easy. Simple. I knew exactly what I had to do and when I had to do it. I had a goal to work toward. I knew if I was succeeding or failing. I could adjust my training accordingly. My life had a purpose and a schedule, two things I thrived on. I was in control.

This past year, my life had turned upside down and inside out.

From Gran’s passing, her leaving me the business, marrying someone I barely knew, to developing feelings for that person.

Everything was uncertain. I had no clue what I was doing. Maybe that’s why I missed football so much. Maybe it was because it gave me structure and focus. Maybe I needed to start seriously considering my options as far as returning to the game. Because in eight months, my life as I knew it would be over.

Olivia would be gone, and without her, I saw no path forward in keeping the doors to Ever After open. She was the reason it had become successful again. I was shit at matchmaking, which wasn’t a surprise. But something that had surprised me was that I was good at being a husband. Or at least, at being Olivia’s husband. I’d made peace with closing the doors of Ever After in eight months, but I didn’t want to close the door on my marriage.

When I walked into the back room, I saw that everyone was dressed in suits and cocktail dresses. I was in jeans and a hoodie. I’d planned on going to the hotel from the airport to shower and change before the dinner, but there was a weather delay on my flight so I hadn’t had time.

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