Page 48 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
I could never do that. I owe everything I am to Houston, even if he doesn’t know it. Every decision I made from the day I met him was influenced by him in some way or another, from which girls I did or didn’t date in high school to the major I chose in college because he said I had a knack for making bad things sound good. Even some of my favorite foods are my favorites because Houston liked them first. I started this company because of him, and I never would have been able to do it without his support, both financially and emotionally.
“You’re missing the point,” I grumble.
“Which is?”
“Dating Brooklyn Briggs will only lead to disaster.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not good—”
That slap comes so quickly that I don’t have time to dodge, nearly knocking me off my feet. I swear loudly and stare at Rick, who doesn’t look even a little sorry. “What was that?”
He shrugs. “I warned you.”
“I was going to say I’m not good at relationships!”
Pinking, he loses some of his serious expression to make way for a smile. “Oh. Sorry.”
“I feel like this should go without saying, but it’s not the brightest idea to slap your boss.”
He shrugs again. “I told you on day one, Torres. I work with you, not for you.”
“Can I be you when I grow up?”
Chuckling, he gestures to an intricate wrought-iron bench nearby, as if he knows this conversation is far from over. It’s nice to sit in the shade for a minute, but I’m not looking forward to what Rick is going to tell me.
“Have you talked to Houston about this?”
I laugh. “The guy who is in the middle of winning the World Series for the second time? Oddly, I haven’t had a chance to bring it up.”
“Why do you think you’re bad at relationships?”
I knew he wouldn’t let that one go, though a part of me hoped the slap had made him forget the sentence I regretted as soon as it came out of my mouth. I should have just pretended I meant I wasn’t good enough for Brooklyn (which is true) and accepted the slap.
Rick and I have worked together for a year now, which means we’ve done a lot of talking. About a lot of subjects. But the one subject I never touched was Natalie.
“I was a serial dater up until a few years ago.” I grimace, hating how that makes me sound even if it’s true. “Never went out more than a few times with any one person. Dating was more for fun than for settling down.” I peek at him, expecting disapproval in his eyes. He’s complained enough about a couple of the guys on the crew who only date casually that I know he’s not a fan.
But Rick smiles at me and nods for me to continue.
“When I was in California, I met Natalie at the firm’s Christmas party. She was friends with one of my coworkers, and we hit it off. Started seeing each other pretty regularly. It was the first time I thought about spending my life with someone, and we got married eighteen months later.”
This is the part I hate, but if I’m going to get any actual advice from Rick, he needs to know the whole story.
“Things were good all around. Nat and I clicked, and I was moving up through the ranks at work and making a name for myself. I wanted to give her a good life, you know? The harder I worked, the more raises I got, and each bonus meant a better car for Natalie, a kitchen remodel, a trip to Cancun.”
When I go quiet, Rick nudges my arm. “What went wrong?”
I laugh without humor. “Turns out when you spend your resort vacation in the hotel room working the whole time, your wife doesn’t especially enjoy herself. Shopping sprees only fill that gap so much. And when you work so many late nights that you never see your wife, she starts to look for affection elsewhere.”
Rick winces. “She cheated on you?”
“No. That might have been easier, honestly. But Natalie is too good for that. She let herself get more and more miserable until she couldn’t handle the loneliness anymore and moved in with her friend. The day she asked for a divorce was the day I realized how deeply I had failed her as a husband, and it broke me seeing how much I had hurt her. I’ve never felt so low. As soon as the divorce was final, I quit my job and moved back here.”
I drop my elbows to my knees and run my hands over my hair. “I can’t be trusted with a relationship, Rick. Especially not with Brooklyn Briggs.”
She deserves so much more than a recovering workaholic.
