Page 12 of Roughing the Player
Chapter 4
Eleanor
DARN IT.I whisper under my breath. The last thing I wanted was for Brock to know I have a daughter. Because once he learned I had a child, he might start asking questions. Who am I kidding? There’s no might about it. He will ask questions—about her name, her age, her father. And that he must never, ever know. I’ll need to skirt my way around the truth. No lies, though. If I even think about lying, he’ll see right through me. He always could.
“Who were you talking to, Mom?” Kaylee interrupts, her face lit up with curiosity. That’s when I realize, Brock’s not the only one I need to keep in the dark.
“One of my firm’s clients.”
“Who?”
“No one you know.” And no one she will ever know if I have anything to say about it. “Ready for your birthday party?”
To celebrate her twelfth birthday, she’d campaigned for a sleepover with her closest friends. I’d been reluctant to say yes. Hosting a dozen pre-teens is not my idea of a good time. They talk too loud, giggle nonstop, and their main topic of conversation, at least among her crowd, seems to be boys. That last thing petrifies me.
Lips turned down, she shrugs. “I guess.”
I guess? A week ago, she’d been so excited. What on earth has changed her mood? “What’s wrong?”
“Meghan’s brother.”
Meghan. Her best friend whose older brother Mike is in high school. Last year Kaylee barely knew he existed. Seemingly, things have changed. “What about him?”
“I invited him, but he’s not coming.”
My mom alarm goes off. “Since when do you invite boys to a slumber party?”
“Mom.” She scrunches her face at me. “Everyone does it. They don’t spend the night. They just come for the party.”
Okay. This is news to me. How do you even handle the logistics of such a thing? Kick them out at nine o’clock? That seems . . . odd.
She scuffs her toe into the rug. “But it doesn’t matter. He can’t make it.”
My little girl’s first heartbreak. With surely more to come. Boys, after all, will be boys, as well I know. “He’s in high school, honey.”
She tilts her head to the side. “What does that mean?”
“Well, high school boys tend to like high school girls.”
“So I’m too young for him?”
“That’s part of it. Yes.”
“What’s the other part?” She’s nothing if not inquisitive.
“Well, high school boys like to date within their own school. Bringing a junior high student to a senior high dance is not cool.”
“That sucks.”
“You’ll get there soon enough, sweetheart. The good thing is that you can attend school dances with boys your own age.” She’s growing up way too fast. Is it wrong of me to wish she’d stay a little girl just a little while longer? “Now how about we plan the party. What would your friends like to eat?”
“Well, Marcy’s a vegan, Charlene won’t eat anything that isn’t gluten-free.” She ticks them off on her fingers. “And Ki-Ki is a pesco-vegetarian.”
Pesco what? “What on earth is that?”
“She only eats vegetables and fish.”
Lord have mercy. “We’ll need to plan the menu very carefully then.” I retrieve a white legal pad from my briefcase, drop it on the table, and pat the chair next to me. “Sit.”
