Chapter 10

WHITLEY

It’s time for my date with Gabriel, and I’m nervous. There’s a knock on my door.

“Whit? Can I come in?” my brother asks.

“It’s open!” I watch as Kendrick walks in and shuts the door.

He looks up at me and freezes.

“Wow, you look beautiful, sis.”

I smile.

“Thanks. You think it’s good enough?”

“I think you’re more than good enough.”

“I meant the dress.”

“I know, but I also know you. You’re questioning yourself and whether you can do this. I know you can. It’s just a dinner. Smile and nod. Let Gabriel do all the talking.”

“You knew, didn’t you?”

“Knew what?” he asks innocently.

“That he was going to need a date. That’s why you told me to go buy a dress.”

He just smiles.

“Not my first rodeo with sponsors. We all do the endorsements, but sometimes the sponsors want certain people. They wanted the new trade this time, which is Gabriel,” he says.

“Who do you take as a date?”

“Just a friend. She’s a psychology professor at the university here.”

“Wow, and there’s nothing going on between the two of you?”

He laughs out loud.

“No. She’s a redhead with an ass that won’t quit, but she’s also a lesbian with a hot as hell girlfriend, and she’s smart as fuck. We’ve been friends for years. I actually met her while we were at Alabama.”

“I’d like to meet her.”

“Okay. I’ll set it up one day.” He walks over to the window and just stands there, looking out. He crosses his arms and leans back against the window frame.

“Everything okay, Kendrick?” I ask.

“What would you think about staying?”

“Staying where?”

“Here, in California. I don’t want you to go back to New York, Whitley.”

He always calls me Whit. He only calls me Whitley when it’s something important or he’s pissed.

“New York is my home, Kendrick.”

“I know, but California can always be your home.”

“Why this all of the sudden? You knew I’d be going back.”

“I miss my family, Whit. Knowing you’re here with me takes the edge off the loneliness. I want to see you happy and all, but I also want to look up in the stands and know I have at least one person there cheering for me,” he says. “I’m sure there are plenty of publishing and editing jobs here in LA.”

“This is a big decision, Kendrick. A life-changing decision. You can’t just spring this on me.”

He walks over and kisses me on the forehead.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I just keep imagining the day you leave, and how my heart will shatter. Just think it over. It’s your life, Whit. Do as you so choose.”

I watch Kendrick walk out the door. I don’t tell him I’ve already been thinking of staying. I don’t want to get his hopes up. I’ve put out a few resumes since I arrived, but I haven’t heard anything yet. I guess time will tell on whether I stay or go.

I walk down the stairs and see Gabriel standing there in his black suit. It’s been tailored to fit so well that it could melt any woman’s panties with one damn look. He’s not wearing a tie, and the first few buttons are left undone showing some of that delicious, tanned skin.

~Damn, I should have grabbed an extra set of underwear.~

“Fuck, you look gorgeous, Whit,” he says.

I can’t help but laugh.

“You don’t look so panty-melting bad yourself, Gabriel. I was just thinking I should have grabbed an extra pair of underwear.”

He’s not paying that much attention to what I say, because as we’re walking to the front door I hear.

“Wait…What?”

***

As we walk toward the super fancy restaurant, Gabriel takes my hand and puts it in the crook of his arm.

“Don’t be surprised if there are some paparazzi. Just smile and keep going. You’re beautiful and your smile will speak for itself.”

~Aww, hell. This man sure knows how to sweet talk.~

Sure enough, as we walk closer, there are a few paparazzi who stalk upscale places like this to get the scoop on who’s there and with whom. I just smile, and we keep walking. Once inside, the host takes us to our table where a couple of older men and the head coach are waiting.

“Nice to see you again, Gabriel. Who do we have the pleasure of meeting?” one of the men asks.

“This is Whitley Barrington, sir,” Gabriel replies.

“As in Kendrick Barrington?” the other man asks.

“One and the same. Whitley is his sister.”

“I can see the similarities, though they are quite more enchanting on you, my dear,” the first man says, shaking my hand.

“Thank you, sir,” I reply.

“Oh, just call me Martin, and this is my colleague, John.”

***

Two hours of drinking, eating, and listening to boring-ass conversations about underwear, and I can’t help but wonder if this is ever going to end. The waiter comes over and asks if we need anything else.

“Yes, please. Can you get me another glass of wine?” I say.

I feel Gabriel’s hand grab my leg. I jump slightly, and he starts to rub his hand up and down my leg to calm me down. He knows I’m getting bored. The waiter brings me a glass of wine.

“So, tell me, Ms. Barrington. What is it you do?” John asks.

I set my wine down.

“I just finished my master’s degree in English literature and communications at NYU.”

“Impressive. So, are you staying in California?” Martin asks.

I feel Gabriel’s hand tighten on my leg, waiting on my answer.

“My home is in New York, though you never know what the future holds.”

Gabriel relaxes and goes back to rubbing my leg again.

***

After about another thirty minutes, we are finally able to settle up and say goodbye. As we all walk out together and wait on the cars, Martin turns to me.

“Ms. Barrington, I wasn’t going to ask, but I would be kicking myself if I didn’t.”

“What is it you like to know, sir?”

“Have you ever tried modeling? Underwear in particular.”

I laugh.

“I’m sorry for laughing, but no. I don’t have the figure for that.”

“I disagree. We’ve been looking for a woman to model alongside Gabriel in the ad. Someone fit but with some curves. You fit what we’re looking for.”

I look up at him, surprised.

“You’re not joking.”

“No. Think about it,” he says as he hops in his car and drives away. As we get into our car, Gabriel looks down at his phone.

“Kendrick wants us to meet him at Dragon’s Tail Night Club. There are a few players celebrating the end of the first week of practice. You up for it? You did have three glasses of wine.”

He’s grinning, so I know he’s joking. At the same time, I need to get the last few boring-ass hours out of my system.

“Abso-fucking-lutely. Matter of fact, I need to make a call.”