Double Contact Page 4

  His brown eyes fill with sadness. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m leaving or because he’s trying to be my white knight.

  I stare up at him for a beat too long. “This has been nice. I’ll see ya, Brenner.” I walk toward the exit and I don’t look back.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Brenner

  Unacceptable.

  Lark’s interview was a disaster. Not on her part, she gave as good as they had given her. I don’t blame her for hightailing it out of the studio.

  Shock courses through me as I march down the hall to Anna’s office. I’m pissed that a world-class athlete was subjected to a line of juvenile questions by sloppy sports analysts.

  “Seriously, Anna? You need to fire those two jokers.”

  Anna glances up from her phone and pins me with a sharp look. “Network won’t let me. And that was ratings gold.”

  My hands fist at my sides. Is she serious? I refuse to believe that we’re accepting this kind of treatment with female athletes.

  For ratings. Ratings.

  My blood boils and my fingers dig into my palms.

  “The interview is already being shared on social media,” Anna quips, quite pleased with herself.

  “How can you be happy about two of your employees botching that interview?”

  She lifts a shoulder. “It wasn’t that bad. Plus, it’s giving Lark and the network some buzz. Look what happened to the interview with Cara Delevingne, the one she did when she promoted that Paper Towns movie.”

  “I don’t know who that is, and I definitely don’t remember that movie.”

  “Look, beach volleyball hasn’t been exactly hot the last few years. Mark did the best he could. Besides, I think Lark may have been jet-lagged or something.”

  Lark wasn’t tired. They caught her off guard by the lack of prep for her interview. And Mark didn’t take the conversation seriously because he thinks it’s beneath him. This kind of “blow-off culture” with female sports figures will only drive women off the courts and fields.

  “You can’t be serious. She’s going to the Olympics for fuck’s sake.”

  She swipes at her phone screen. “Will there be anything else, Brenner?”

  I’m so done.

  “Yeah, one more thing, I quit.”

  Anna stares at me. “You what?”

  “You heard me. I quit. If this is how GSN treats female athletes, I’ve got no use for this kind of corporate culture.”

  I think of my sister and my mother, both hard-working women, and I can’t stomach someone treating them this way. Even though I had teased Lark back in the day about being Alec’s pre-game ritual, I knew it was the kind of shit she wouldn’t take.

  She pushed back when the bartenders at the Stingers parties assumed she’d want a white wine or a cosmopolitan. And if she had, that’s her choice. But at least give her the choice. At those Stingers parties, Lark owned the damn room. She didn’t have to dumb herself down to talk shop with people . . . not the players, not management and not the executives. Even though some wives and girlfriends would’ve preferred Lark not appear to be too intelligent.

  Anna steps behind her desk and takes a seat. “But you’re under contract.”

  “Then fire me.”

  “And give you unemployment? I don’t think so.”

  I roll my eyes. “I don’t want your unemployment benefits.”

  Anna leans back in her chair. “All right, cancel your contract and pay the fine.”

  “Done.”

  “There’s also the matter of the non-compete you signed.”

  “Yeah, yeah, how can I forget.” My jaw ticks.

  Anna stands and extends her hand across her desk. “Go ahead and clear out your office. It was truly a pleasure to work with you.”

  Despite my anger, I shake her hand. Before I make it back to my office, everyone on the floor has received the interoffice email that I’m leaving.

  “Brenner,” Kandace wails. “Why did you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Quit.” Her dark heel taps against the hardwood floor.

  I spear a hand through my hair and blow out a harsh breath. “Because that interview was bullshit. I can’t stand seeing people treat her like that. And I’ve got some moral integrity—”

  “Oh my god,” she cuts me off. “You like her.”

  Ignoring Kandace’s comment, I busy myself with gathering up my personal items.

  “Lark. You like Lark Saddler. This makes perfect sense.” She paces around my office and stops in front of my bookcase. “Here, I thought you were just ogling the female beach volleyball players this whole time. But really, it was just her.”

  I toss a glare at her. “I actually like the sport, ya know.”

  She waves me off and scoops up my books. “Sure, sure. I believe you. When’s the last time you went on a date?”

  This is fresh territory. Kandace has never tried to set me up before, but Nolan and Sebastian have on multiple occasions. I’ve been able to politely decline.

  “I’ve been on dates,” I shoot back, and she rolls her eyes.

  “The only dinner reservations I make for you is with the guys or your mother. Never a lady friend.”

  “Kandace, don’t you have work to do?”

  Her lips twist into a frown and she plops the books onto my desk. “Hmm. Maybe, but what are you going to do now?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  She leans against the front of my desk. “You want me to get Lark’s number for you? I can find out where’s she’s staying. Should I make a dinner reservation for two at that Italian place you like?”

  I stare at her for a beat. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.”

  Kandace smiles and dances out of my office. After I finish packing up my stuff, I power up my computer and start clearing out my emails.

  “Here’s Lark’s number.” Kandace hands me a yellow sticky note. “I have bad news though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Her other meeting is in Los Angeles and her flight boards in forty-five minutes.”

  “Damn, that sucks.” I slap my palms to the desktop.

  When I look up, Kandace is smiling a big toothy grin at me.

  I lift a shoulder. “What?”

  “Go after her, Brenner.”

  “I’ll never make it to the airport in time.”

  “No, but you can make it to Los Angeles.”

  “She’ll think I’m nuts. That I’m stalking her.”

  “You’re nuts if you don’t go get on a plane and tell that woman how you feel. That you want to take her out on a date. How long have you been crushing on her?”

  I blow out a breath. “It’s been a while.”

  She shakes her head. “What’s a while?”

  “I don’t know. Like I said, a teammate of mine saw her first and . . .”

  “Wow, okay,” she drawls out. “I’m getting you on the next flight to Los Angeles.”

  “Let me at least go home and pack. I want to be there first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “You have to take the red-eye.”

  “Worth it.”

  She laughs. “Fine, I’ll email you your flight information. And if you need someone to babysit your apartment while you’re gone, I’m up for the job.”

  “If you need to stay at my place to get away from your roommate, you can.”

  She claps her hands. “Yes. Thank you. You’re the best.”

  I roll my eyes. “Well, that’s all my stuff. I’m outta here.”

  “Yeah, you are,” she squeals. “Go get her Brenner, and post a pic on Insta.”

  “Not at a chance,” I tease.

  “I’ll miss not working with you on the daily.”

  “Me too, Kandace. Once I figure stuff out, maybe you’ll come work with me again?”

  “Deal.”

  When I land in Los Angeles, I dial Lark’s number. It goes straight to voicemail and I don’t leave a message.

  While I w
ait for my luggage, I pull up the Uber app on my phone. I schedule my ride, and by luck, there’s a car waiting outside.

  After I check the license plate and verify his name, I hop in the backseat. I’m not going to Lark’s place yet. First, I need to see my mom.

  I dial Lark’s number again, no answer. It’s Saturday morning. She could be working out. There’s hardly any traffic on the roads, which is a miracle.

  Soon the car pulls up to my mom’s place and I’m crossing the sidewalk with my luggage in tow.

  “Brenner, oh my goodness,” my mom chirps out. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

  “Last minute trip, I wanted to surprise you.”

  She rubs her hands over my shoulders and then presses them to the sides of my face. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  The bells of the diner chime out and over my shoulder, I see Lark. She’s wearing frayed denim shorts and a striped tank top that shows off her toned arms and flat stomach.

  Lark is breathtaking. Her glossy light brown hair falls in waves over her shoulder. Her brows arch over rich hazel eyes when she spots me.

  “Brenner, hi.” She takes a step toward me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, Lark is one of my regulars,” Mom singsongs.

  “Ever since you brought me here, I’ve come at least once a week.” Lark brushes past me and then gives my mom a hug.

  “Hi, Lark,” Mom says. “You two want to sit together?”

  My gaze flicks to Lark. “Yeah, I’ve been trying to call you. Do you mind having breakfast with me?”

  “That was your number? Sorry, I’ve had my phone on do not disturb. Ever since that interview yesterday . . . it’s been nonstop calls.”

  Guilt hits me in the chest. “I’m so sorry about that.”

  Mom wheels my luggage behind the counter. “Go on and grab menus and sit wherever you like.”

  I snatch up the menus and some silverware while Lark takes a seat at the same booth we sat in years ago.

  “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

  “I quit my job,” I tell her sliding my ass against the green pleather.

  She cocks a brow in my direction. “Why? Over the interview?”

  “Mostly, yes.”

  She shakes her head and her hair falls over her shoulder. “You didn’t need to do that. This will all blow over in a few days. The media will move on to another story. Slow news day.”

  Mom brings us two coffees and waters. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Thank you, Monika. Why didn’t you tell me she’s your mom?”

  I chuckle. “We don’t really tell many people. Mom doesn’t want this place to become a tourist attraction. The diner does really well on its own.”

  “I understand. It’s definitely become one of my favorite places.” Her hazel eyes beam. She’s so damn cute.

  When I met her all those years ago, I knew Lark was special. Call it fate or serendipity, but I knew Lark was meant to be in my life. She ignited something inside me.

  “So, Brenner . . . what will you be having?”

  “You.”

  She stares at me. “What?”

  “I want you.”

  “Are we circling back to the conversation from three years ago?” she asks, before taking a sip of her coffee.

  “Maybe.” I smirk. “What would you say to me taking you on a date?”

  She laughs. “I don’t think a date is what you were after that day.”

  “Not that day, no. But that night, I would have asked you out if Alec hadn’t seen you first.”

  Mom stops by the table to take our order—blueberry pancakes for me while Lark settles for the french toast and home fries.

  She stares at me, eyes hooded, and lips parted. I want to kiss her. Taste her.

  “What night are you talking about?”

  “The night I told you tequila was a terrible idea.”

  She leans back in her seat. “The tequila was an excellent idea. Alec, on the other hand, was a bad idea.”

  “I’m glad you came to your senses. What happened there?”

  “After our breakfast, I marched back to his house and told him it was over. Then I focused on myself and volleyball.” Her slim fingers slide over the handle of her coffee mug.

  My eyes pop wide. “Good for you. Do I get some credit for giving you a shove in the right direction?”

  She smiles at me over the rim of her mug. “Yes, you get some credit.” Lark sips her coffee. “I may even thank you.”

  “Another way to thank me is by going on a date with me.”

  She glances around the diner. “Some people might say that we’re on a date right now.”

  My palm glides against the smooth tabletop. “I’d say, I think they’re right.” I grasp her fingers and a shiver courses up my spine.

  The way she’s looking at me, our flirty banter, and the electricity that’s soaring between us makes me half-hard. She wants me as much as I want her.

  Lark’s thumb brushes over my knuckle. “After breakfast, we’ll go for ice cream, which will be another date—this time, my treat.”

  Mom brings us our food and refills our coffee. “Everything all good here?” She’s smiling from ear to ear.

  “Yeah, we’re all good.”

  Mom looks down at our still joined hands. “So, is Lark your plus one for Anson’s wedding? Your assistant, Kandace, called me and said to change your single status to plus one.”

  Kandace must have anticipated I’d ask Lark. She’s a damn good assistant.

  I waggle my brows. “If she’s not busy that day, yeah.”

  “When’s the wedding?”

  “Two weekends from now.”

  Lark picks up her fork and cuts into her french toast. “I’m free as a bird.”

  Mom claps her hands together. “Wonderful. Enjoy your food.” She scurries off, leaving the two of us alone.

  “Do you have a place to stay while you’re here?”

  “I will check with the hotel where my brother’s getting married. I have a room booked for the wedding weekend. It’s a matter of moving some things around.”

  “So, you’re not going back to New York between now and the wedding?”

  “Nope.”

  “You can stay with me.”

  Game fucking on.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Lark

  The morning bleeds into the afternoon, and all I want to do is get Brenner back to my house and in my bed.

  He’s been thinking about me all this time, just like I’ve been thinking about him. There were so many times I wanted to call Brenner. I almost had my agent get me his number. But I chickened out.

  After we had ice cream, we went for a walk on the beach. Brenner tells me about his childhood and how he’d lost his birth mom in a terrible accident. I tell him about my childhood and lack of parental love . . . interest. Whatever.

  “I’m sorry to hear about Porter,” I tell him. “Sounds like he was an amazing man.”

  “Losing him was hard, but I’m thankful for the time I had with him. He taught me so much and encouraged me to play ball.”

  I wonder how things would have been if I’d had supportive parents. What if they’d have taken an interest in my life when I was younger. But it doesn’t matter, wondering leads nowhere. I’m in a far better place.

  “So”—he claps his hands together—“you need to be anywhere soon?”

  I laugh. “I don’t have any plans today.”

  “Good. Then we can keep this day of dates going, right?”

  “I’d like that.”

  He pins me against the patio railing outside a restaurant on the beach. “Spending time with you has been the most fun I’ve had in a very long time.”

  My heart bangs against my ribs, and I think he’s about to kiss me.

  “I like you, Lark Saddler.” Smiling, he brushes an errant strand of hair away from my cheek, then he slides his hand to mine. Our fingers lace together as we walk alon
g the sidewalk.

  We make it back to his mom’s diner. Brenner busies himself with his phone while I step inside the ladies’ room. As I wash my hands, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. His words echo in my mind: “I like you, Lark Saddler.”

  I like the way he smiles at me. I want to be the one who makes him smile so freely.

  I like him too.

  Maybe this is crazy.

  Shaking my head, I toss the paper towel into the trash.

  “Hey, I want to take you somewhere,” Brenner announces when I come out of the bathroom.

  “I’m intrigued.”

  “You up for a little fun?” He waggles his dark brows and I laugh.

  “Lead the way.”

  Twenty minutes later, we pull up to the Stingers stadium.

  Once we exit the Uber, Brenner takes my hand in his. A smile breaks across my face as we stand outside the VIP entrance.

  “Come on, this way.”

  “What are we doing here?”

  “We’re going to hit some balls.”

  “I’m so excited,” I hear myself squeal. “How did you make all this happen?”

  “I know people,” he teases and hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “Come on, time’s ticking away.”

  All the equipment is set up and ready to go. I look around the field in awe. The green grass contrasts with the dirt. It’s beautiful.

  Even though the stadium is empty, the energy that vibrates around us is insane. I’ve never been down here before.

  “This is so cool.”

  Brenner’s dark eyes swim with amusement. “What do you want to do first?”

  “I want to hit a home run.”

  “All right, choose a bat,” he gestures to the stand holding about a hundred baseball bats. “For your height and weight, which I won’t ask, you’ll probably want a thirty-two-inch bat.”

  He laughs, making me laugh too.

  “Okay, this one looks good,” I tell him.

  “Try it out, give it a few swings. Get the feel of it in your grip.” Brenner steps up to the bin filled with baseballs and tosses one into the air.

  “Like this?” My hands grip the bat and I give it a hard swing.

  He runs up behind me, his hands glide down my body. “Set your hips and feet. Get comfortable with your stance.”

  Being this close to him is making me dizzy with need, I’m having a hard time concentrating.