Page 49 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
“Working hard to give your wife a good life doesn’t make you a failure, Torres.”
“I know.” My dad is proof of that. He works all the time, but he still shares little moments with my mom whenever he can. He leaves her notes to tell her he loves her. He takes time off when his wife needs him because he’s attentive enough to notice when she can’t do something by herself.
I take a deep breath, holding it in my lungs for a few seconds. “But choosing to stay at the office until midnight and missing our anniversary dinner because of a client meeting I didn’t need to go to aren’t exactly winning traits. It stopped being about Natalie and turned into being more.Doingmore. And I still find myself getting sucked into my job and forgetting there’s more to life than work.”
“I know,” Rick says, laughter in his voice. “I nearly had a heart attack when you took the weekend off.”
I shove him. “I’m a work in progress, okay? But that’s why I shouldn’t have flirted with Brooklyn. I’m in the middle of building a business, and there’s no way I can give her the attention she deserves.” The attention sheneeds. I meant it when I told her she needed someone to show her how to be loved, but it was stupid for me to think I could do that without losing my heart in the process. I can’t afford to fall for Brooklyn any more than I can stomach risking her heart if I fall back into my toxic ways.
I refuse to be the next James. The next Garrett. The next bozo who can’t see a good thing when he’s got it. I have to hope this Mark guy is as good as she seems to think because right now he’s the only thing standing between me and a bad decision.
As if she knows I’m thinking about her, Brooklyn texts me right then and makes my heart skip a beat when I see that it’s her. That’s a problem.
Queens: Do you want to watch Houston’s game with me tonight? It’s the last one he’s pitching, right?
I know she means the last one of the Series, but I still wonder if she knows something she shouldn’t. Does she know Houston’s arm is giving out on him? Houston begged me not to tell anyone, so I’m guessing not. Apparently not sharing is a Briggs trait.
Me: I won’t agree until you tell me you talked to Max.
Queens: I don’t
Queens: Know anyone named Max.
I chuckle.
Me: Stop deflecting, Queens.
Queens: He isn’t here today. He’s got a subway teaching his coats.
Queens: Classes!
Queens: SUB. *face palm emoji*
Goodness, someone needs to teach this woman how to use voice-to-text, though she’d probably mess that up as well and end up sending a lot of ramblings to people she shouldn’t.
Me: Fine. You get a pass. But I’m only coming to watch the game with you because I know you won’t watch it otherwise.
Queens: *pukey face*
Queens: That was supposed to be a thumbs up…
“You’re hopeless,” I mutter.
“Nah, I think you’re the hopeless one,” Rick replies, making me jump. I forgot he was here. He grins at me, like a bunch of things suddenly make sense to him.
I point at him. “No. Don’t look at me like you know something. There’s nothing to know.”
“Mm hmm.” He gets to his feet, heading for my abandoned hedge trimmer. “You can lie to yourself all you want, Torres, but I’m pretty sure you more than flirted with Brooklyn.”
My stomach does a weird sort of flip in my gut, leaving me nauseous as I hurry after him. “You can’t make an accusation like that and walk away, old man.”
“I’ve got fifteen years on you. I’m not old.”
I jump onto his back like I’m thirteen and trying to prove to my brother Alejandro that I’m stronger even if he’s bigger. Bad move. Rick immediately flips me over his shoulder and I land in the dirt hard, the air rushing out of my lungs on impact.Ow.
“Sorry,” I grunt. “How did you do that?”
“My kid’s a wrestler.”
