Page 11 of One Night Only
I almost roll my eyes, but knowing Dallas is standing right there watching me like a hawk, I manage to refrain. Sitting up a little straighter, I force him the hint of a tight smile, knowing this really is my only option.
“Yes, hello… I’m sorry, Andy isn’t available right now… Is there something I can help you with?” I say into the phone, using my most professional tone.
“Emmy?” My mother raises her already shrieking voice. “It’s me. Yourmother,” she adds, enunciating each word.
I almost wince, glancing furtively at Dallas as I say, “Yes, ofcourse. That’s fine. I can answer whatever questions you might have.”
Dallas just watches on, face completely blank.
“Frank!” Mom shouts off into the background. “I think the phone’s on the fritz again. Emmy can’t hear me!” She then proceeds to nearly deafen me with a few loud thuds, and I picture her banging the phone against the kitchen counter as if that’s going to fix anything. But if it takes a little temporary hearing loss to avoid having to deal with Dallas right now, so be it.
I place my hand over the mouthpiece, looking up at the man who continues to linger. Lowering my voice, I say, “Sorry, it’s some hockey coach, wanting to talk about a possible recruit…”
“A recruit, huh?” He arches a brow.
Dallas’s eyes bore into mine, one narrowing. “What college?”
“Ithaca…” I say, shocked by my own ability to lie so quickly.
He glances at the phone in my hand, and I know he can hear the banging. Hell, he can probably hear my father who is now cussing out the phone company as he tries to do God knows what with the thing.
Dallas finally nods, although I can tell by the smirk ghosting his lips that he’s unconvinced. Taking a step backward, he offers me the kind of grin that should be criminal.
I manage a sweet, hopefully innocent smile.
“I’ll be seeing ya.” He winks.
And, with that thinly veiled threat, he turns and walks out of my office, and I release the breath I’ve been holding, finally sagging in my chair. But when I hear the whir of what sounds like a power tool, I quickly snap to, looking at the phone in my hand.
“Mom?” I yell. “Dad??”
“Emmy?” My father hollers. “June, I fixed the phone!”
Resting my elbows on the desk, I bury my head in my hand, listening as the two of them bicker over who gets to talk to me before finally my mother wins the argument.
“Oh Emmy, thank goodness,” Mom says with a relieved huff of breath. “Your father was about two seconds away from putting a hole through the drywall.”
I massage my temples, forcing a smile. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
“Your sister called,” Mom says, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Said something about you and an athlete!”
“Is it Judge?” I hear Dad whisper yell in the background.
“Oh, my God, what is it with you guys and—” I mutter, rubbing my eyes. “He’s married, for God’s sake!”
Mom gasps. “Emmy! A married man?”
“No, I?—”
“Frank, she’s having an affair with a married man,” Mom whisper yells.
“It takes two to tango, Juney,” Dad tuts, ever the voice of reason.
Before I can even say anything to clear up the situation, my cell phone shudders on my desk, lighting up with a new message from an unknown number. I pick it up and open the message, my eyes bugging.
Unknown: Nice try, darlin’. Ithaca doesn’t have a hockey program.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
