After months of therapy, Garrett Delko is still struggling to cope with his brother's suicide. The only time he finds peace is on the pitching mound and with a mysterious girl he's been obsessed with since the first week of college. One night, he se...
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"Oh my god, I think that's her."
"Her who?"
"The one everyone is talking about. The STD girl."
Arianne wished she could pull the brim of her hat to her chin so it would swallow her whole. Instead, she quickened down the hallway, angling her head down so on-comers would see the Eason logo embroidered on the cap and not her face which was undoubtedly pinched in pain. She could almost hear her mother scolding her.
"Stop looking like you sucked on a lemon, Arianne. It'll give you wrinkles."
Even a thousand miles away, the woman wouldn't let her be. Arianne wondered how she was faring. Most likely still miserable, still caught in a love-hate relationship with her father. And even though she resented her mother, hated the things she'd done, Arianne would have given anything at that moment to feel her mother's arms around her. To let down her guard and have someone else shoulder the pain.
Her mother would do it too. As messed up as she was, she wouldn't deny her daughter that small comfort. The same couldn't be said for her father, however. Her nose stung as a burning ache started deep in her gut. She wanted, no, needed something familiar. Something tangible. Something from home.
Before she could think too hard, she pulled out her phone and dialed her dad's cell. It went straight to voicemail. She hung up and called his office. After three rings, Beth Anne, the company's office manager, picked up.
"Hi Beth Anne, it's Arianne," she said in a halting tone. Beth Anne was not her biggest fan. Her younger sister, Sara, had been dating Chase before dumping her to date Arianne. Beth Anne and Sarah had accused her of leading him astray. Please. As if she'd hand delivered Chase to her mom. "Is my dad around?"
A reluctant pause. "I think he went out."
"Can you check? I really need to talk to him." She added a sweet, "Please," when Beth Anne continued to hesitate.
"Okay, hold on." A muffled sound like her hand was over the receiver, then a soft knock. "Sir? It's your daughter."
So he was there. Arianne's chest puffed in anger as she tried not to be offended, but damn, it was hard. Beth Anne had no right to keep her from her father.
"Tell her I'm not here." His gruff voice knocked the wind out of her lungs. She thought he'd at least say hi before brushing her off. Beth Anne must not have left because moments later, her dad barked, "What is it?"
Beth Anne's voice held a note of censure. "I think it's about something important."
"Probably money," he muttered. "Tell her to email Lund the amount. I'll approve it." He acted as if she was a spoiled child needing to be pacified.
She could hear the door shutting and Beth Anne returning to her seat. "Arianne—" she started with a note of pity.
"Don't bother. I heard." She hung up as Beth Ann sputtered out excuses. It was rude, but she wasn't feeling particularly courteous at the moment.
