Page 48 of No More Heartbreakers

Aric’s jaw dropped. “Coach Barlow?”

He whipped his head around to look at me, his eyes wide with fear that we’d accidentally ding-dong-ditched the head coach of the Bulldogs, who famously hated any and all media members.

“Well, there she is,” the coach’s voice boomed. “Heidi, Heidi darlin’. Come here girl.”

I stepped forward into the older man’s fatherly hug, squeezed against his generous stomach. “Hi Beebee.”

I stepped back and shot a smirk at Aric, fighting the urge to laugh at his astounded expression.

“Beebee… I mean, Coach Barlow, I’d like you to meet my friend Aric. He’s our new weekend sportscaster—you might have seen him at the press conferences the past couple of weekends.”

“They’ve got so many flippin’ lights shining in my eyes at those things, I can’t see a flippin’ thing. So, you vouch for this kid, Heidi? He a good guy?”

I glanced up at Aric. “He is, Coach. He really is.”

“Well, if you say so, it’s good enough for me. Come on in, kids. We can sit in the den. I’m watching the Falcons game. What do you think of their new quarterback, Aric?”

I followed the two men, one gray and grizzled, the other young and so vital he nearly took my breath away, and congratulated myself on pulling off the perfect coup.

An in-depth exclusive interview with the elusive and legendary Bobby Barlow would earn Aric major kudos at work and most likely land his report on the national sports feed.

And it would erase any obligation I might owe to Aric. I was brilliant.

Two hours later we were exchanging handshakes and hugs at the front door, preparing to head off for our next shoot. Aric and I got into the car. He took the wheel this time, though he didn’t start the engine right away.

Instead, he turned in his seat to stare at me. “Beebee?”

I laughed. “When I was a baby I couldn’t say Mr. Barlow. Bobby came out sounding like Beebee. I guess it stuck.”

“You never mentioned legendary SEC football coach Bobby Barlow used to change your diapers.”

“Yeah, I wish he hadn’t mentionedthatpart either, but I did try to tell you once. You were just too busy calling my godfather an ‘asshole’ to listen.”

“Actually, I think I called him a dick. I take it back.”

“You did a good job with him. It’s going to be a tremendous interview. And Dennis is gonna freak.”

“Thanks. I did okay, but he was pretty much putty in my hands after his precious Heidi Darlin’ gave me the green light.”

Aric stared at me with an expression of wonderment. “Thank you for setting that up. I know you’re putting an important family relationship on the line—I’m not going to burn you—I’ll make it good.”

“I know.”

* * *

After the show I sat in an edit bay, adding that day’s package on a community cleanup at Sandy Creek Park to my reel. I watched the stand-up Aric had shot for me.

The on-screen version of me walked along the bank of the lake under some shade trees, stooped and trailed my fingers through the water, then stood and walked toward the camera as I delivered my stand-up.

The lighting was perfect, making my skin glow and my eyes seem extra bright and clear. Aric had done a great job with the camera work.

“You look beautiful.”

His deep voice came from behind me, lifting the wispy hairs on my arms and the back of my neck. He stepped into the tight, dark edit bay with me and rested his hands on the back of my chair, his knuckles brushing my back.

The room filled with his maddening scent and with something else, alive like a heartbeat and warm like a steamy tropical night.

I twisted to see Aric looming over me. He dropped his eyes from the video monitor to my face.

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