Page 13 of Crush
I was the first Brawler dressed and ready to go. I slung my briefcase over my shoulder and waved at my team. “See you later tonight, boys.”
They moaned and groaned their goodbyes as I stepped through the door. I chuckled at their banter, which faded as I made my way down the hall:
“How the hell is Boomer still standing?”
“Beats me. I feel like I'm about to die.”
“We gotta ask the old man for his gym routine.”
“What's the point? We all know you wouldn't stick to it, you lazy bastard!”
“Hey, screw you!”
***
I hurried through the arena, fetched my car in the parking lot, and rushed across town to the cafe in Charlestown.
My hair was still damp from my post-practice shower when I parked the car on the curb. I made my way to the cafe, doing my best to hide the shooting pain that stabbed through my ankle with every step.
I know what you're thinking. And don't get me wrong: I'mfit,as in my physical conditioning is great, but that doesn't mean I've got some miracle body that can withstand the aging process. I'm still thirty-seven, and my body's breaking down. My ankle has been a thorn in my side for the past few years, and lately, it has only gotten worse—not that I'd ever let anyone know it. If it wasn't bothering me so damn bad, I probably wouldn't have to retire.
Anyway, I pushed the cafe door open and looked around. At mid-morning, the place was mostly empty. A few younger people sat staring into their laptops and phones. An elderly couple stared out the window, people-watching.
And then, towards the back, I saw her. Or rather, I sawagirl sitting by herself with two coffee cups.
Oh, hell no,I thought to myself.Please tell me that's not her.
She'd been sitting upright, watching the door with an inviting smile. Through the cafe's large windows, the morning sun fell on her flawlessly radiant skin. She'd done her ash blonde hair up, into a tight bun, and it glowed like a halo around her head.
This ain't gonna work,I thought to myself as I walked up to her. I hoped this was a mix-up, that I had the wrong girl. I hoped thatthisgirl was on a coffee date with her boyfriend, and he happened to run to the bathroom right before I entered, which would explain the second cup of coffee.
Because this girl? She was too young. Too pretty. Too blonde. Tooperfect.
My kids would eat her alive. Chloe especially. This innocent, beautiful blonde girl represented everything that littlerebel without a causehated about the world—and she'd derive some sick joy out of torturing the nanny to her wits' end.
And if Lance and the boys saw that I hired her, I'd never hear the end of their sleeping-with-the-nanny jokes.
But she went through the trouble of meeting with me, and I owed her an interview at the very least.
With a sigh, I stepped forward to meet her.
Chapter 5
Brynn
The last sliver of the late-morning sun shimmered through the cafe's wall of windows. I'd grabbed a cozy table for two towards the rear of the cafe, against a brick wall. A golden sunbeam stretched towards my table and fell on my arms and legs, warming my skin.
And I sat in that cafe by myself, waiting and waiting.
I'd almost given up on our meeting altogether, but Mr. Ellis finally texted me right when I was ready to leave. So I gave him another hour. If he didn't show within that time period,screw it,I'd walk.
I sat with two paper cups of coffee in front of me. Mine, a latte. His, a black coffee.
Okay, so Mr. Ellis likes his coffee black. That's something,I thought to myself.
It was really the most I knew about my prospective employer. Because the truth was, I had no idea who I was meeting—only that his name was 'Mr. Ellis.'
It was easy to picture this Mr. Ellis as a rich, self-important jerk. Maybe a hotshot lawyer or radiologist. Some type of businessman whose time wasclearlya lot more valuable than a lowly nanny's time.
