The Perfect Life

  She focused her attention primarily to a sniffling Monroe and offered a small smile. “Sweetie, this project is going to continue on schedule, okay? I’ve discussed my condition fully with the Board of Directors, and they know there is to be no setbacks because of this. I can still help you select the house before the surgery, and the only thing that will change is that I’ll no longer be able to temporarily relocate here to help you hire your team and get things set up. Traveling is discouraged, especially until I know how my body will react to the chemo.” Twisting her shoulders in my direction, her pleading eyes found mine and I swallowed hard, knowing what was coming. “That’s where you come in, Oliver. Since plans have been in place for me to stay in Boston for some time now, we’ve already signed a lease for a furnished downtown apartment here in Boston that I’d like to offer you in exchange for assisting Monroe in getting the house up and running. You were an active part of the startup at the Chicago house, so you’re just as qualified to do this as I am.”

  “I, uh, I-I dunno,” I stammered, choking on the emotions. “I’m having trouble processing the first part of what you said to even try and think about the second.”

  Chuckling at my raw honestly, she nodded. “I know it’s a lot to take in at once, but unfortunately, we don’t have time on our side. These decisions need to be made today. After lunch, I’m scheduled to meet with the landlord of the apartment to get the keys and tour the building. If you’re going to say yes, I want you to come with me. I understand you’ll have things at home that need tending to, so I’d ask that you be back and ready to get started two weeks from tomorrow.”

  “What about the Chicago house? Who would be responsible for my kids if I was here? When would I go back home?” The questions tumbled from my mouth as my mind swirled with confusion.

  “Jeff and Tracie, as well as your other counselors, are more than capable to run the house for six months,” she replied. “And it’s not like you’re more than a phone call away, or in the case of an emergency, a few hours on a plane.”

  The idea of helping set up a new home sounded fun and challenging, but I loved my kids and my employees in Chicago, and I couldn’t imagine being away from them for that long. Even though I’d always wanted to live somewhere outside of Illinois, and this would be a great opportunity to try out a new place, new often meant daunting and intimidating. And then there was the whole having to work closely with Monroe on a daily basis thing, which scared the living shit out of me. Being around her made me a stumbling, bumbling fool who couldn’t conjure up a single coherent thought, so how in the world could I be of any assistance to her?

  I shifted my gaze from Allison to Monroe then back to Allison, both waiting with bated breath for my answer. I sucked at making decisions on the spot. I preferred to make lists, compare and contrast, and mull over things for much longer than necessary. However, as a woman at a nearby table stood up to leave, I noticed the pink scarf covering her bald head and all of the conflicting thoughts warring inside of me were silenced. Whether or not her hairstyle was by choice or the result of medical treatment, the only thing it made me think of was no matter how much the statistics were in her favor, Allison—a woman I respected and sincerely cared about—would soon be fighting for her life against a terrible, putrid disease. There was never a decision to be made.

  “I’ll do it.”

  “We build

  castles

  with our fears

  and sleep

  in them

  like kings

  and

  queens”

  –Christopher Poindexter

  Monroe

  IT WAS 7:14, and Effie was officially late . . . even by her standards. In the five years I’d known Seth’s younger sister—Alexandria Sheffield Andrews, or Effie, as he and Colin had nicknamed her when they were kids—I couldn’t remember a single time the girl had ever been on time, much less early, to anything. According to the guys, it was a trait she’d possessed from birth, forcing doctors to induce Mrs. Andrews nearly two weeks past her due date. Once I got to know her, that story didn’t surprise me in the least.

  “Have you tried calling her again?” I asked Seth while pacing the distressed hardwood floors of the living room, or pah-lah (parlor) according to my husband in his Bostonian accent. I tried my best to subdue the irritation in my voice, but making others wait over forty minutes without so much as a phone call or a text crossed the line of her usual ‘running a little late’ to ‘rude and selfish.’

  My mood was already shot, as I was still reeling from the news that my mentor had breast cancer. I was drowning in an overload of emotion from the news, and I couldn’t even imagine what Allison must be going through . . . no matter how much she had tried to downplay the severity of it. It took every ounce of willpower I had to keep myself from breaking down and allowing the fear and sorrow to engulf me. I fought off the tears, because she didn’t want me to be upset for her, and since I wasn’t able to physically heal her, all I could do was respect her wishes, try to keep her spirits up, and support her through the treatment.

  Then, once I’d gotten home, I didn’t want to put a damper on the happiness Colin and Seth were sharing after the apparent reconciliation from their fight a few weeks ago, so I’d spent most of the afternoon reorganizing my closet for no other reason than it had kept my mind busy. And I was about ready to say to hell with the game and march my tooshie back upstairs, slip into my most comfortable sweats, and feed my sadness a tub of cookie dough ice cream.

  “Yeah, I did a few minutes ago. It keeps going straight to voicemail,” he replied from the couch, where he and Colin were watching ridiculous YouTube videos on the laptop to kill time. Glancing at his phone on the coffee table, he grimaced and tapped Colin’s shoulder then shot up off the brown leather cushion. “Shit, brah, it’s after seven. We gotta go. Effie can just meet us—”

  The chime of the doorbell cut his thought short and I blew out a sigh of relief as I snatched my purse from the ottoman where I’d tossed it after I’d grown tired of holding it . . . over twenty minutes before. Shutting the computer off, Colin rose to his feet and swiftly stole a kiss from Seth’s lips before taking his place by my side, looping his strong arm around my waist. I peered up at him and offered a compassionate smile as I knew he was already missing the closeness of the man he loved.

  “You ready?” I asked, tenderly rubbing my hands up and down his biceps.

  “As I’ll ever be.” The smile he wore on his mouth didn’t reach his eyes, but he nodded just the same. “Do I look okay?”

  My gaze traveled up and down his body, searching for anything out of place. Red Sox ballcap. Throwback Nomar Garciaparra jersey. Khaki shorts. Brown leather boat shoes. All systems go for a baseball game. “Wicked smaht,” I teased in a terrible fake Boston accent, trying to cheer him up. Then with a feisty smirk, I rose up on my toes to kiss his smooth cheek.

  “Wicked is so last century, Roe,” Seth scolded me for at least the hundredth time since I’d moved there. I knew it always ruffled his feathers when I said the word known for its New England roots, so I indulged every chance I got. “If you want to stay in the locals’ good graces, you gotta cut—”

  The doorbell interrupted him again, but this time it was followed by a series of hard, persistent knocks on the door. Clearly irritated, Seth abandoned our conversation and stalked toward the front of the house, with me and Colin hot on his heels. Throwing the door open, he puffed his chest out and curled his hands into tight fists, ready to lay into his sister. However, the second he saw Effie standing on the front porch with mascara streaks staining her face and a bright pink nose, he forgot all about his anger and rushed to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and huddling her safely inside.

  Out of habit, Colin and I both scanned the area in the front of our house, checking the popular hiding spots for paparazzi. A couple of years before, Colin’s second on the Pats and his first as the starting quarterback, things got a little crazy with r
eporters and photographers following us around. Though it didn’t come close to comparing to what I’d witnessed in L.A. as a kid, it still wasn’t much fun to have our every move documented and scrutinized. We loved interacting and doing interviews when they were scheduled, but some mornings we would have a camera greet us the moment we walked out the door. Thankfully, a little while after the team’s loss in the second round of the playoffs, they moved their efforts onto others who were either more controversial, or whatever top athlete was making the nightly highlight reels.

  Because the NFL regular season still wasn’t set to kick off for another week, “Clutch Coverage,” as we jokingly called it in our house, wasn’t in full swing yet. However, we remained mindful and cautious, especially when we’re around any situation that could be viewed as contentious outside the security of our home. One snapshot of Effie in tears on our doorstep could be tomorrow’s top headline on a gossip site. “Trouble in Perfect Paradise: Star QB’s Mistress Confronts Wife.” Despite how ridiculously far off from the truth it would be, and regardless if people believed it or not, it could plant a seed of doubt, a sliver of distrust, and if something like that ever happened to Colin and me, support for the Mending Hearts home would be jeopardized.

  And that wasn’t part of the deal.

  “I don’t see anyone. Let’s get inside and make sure she’s okay,” Colin announced, his tone more gruff than normal. I wasn’t sure if he was more aggravated that his Funday Sunday with Seth was over, or because Effie had shown up not only late, but looking like an emotional wreck. My guess was an equal part combination of the two.

  Hastily shutting the door, we rushed back to the living room, where Seth had taken Effie to get her away from the front windows. He was standing with his hands on his hips and a frown wrinkling his chin, staring expectantly at her while she used the large framed mirror on the wall to wipe the black smudges from her face. “Okay, we’re all here now. Tell us what happened.”

  “Yeah, whose ass are we gonna have to kick on the way to the game? I told you to stay away from those Harvard punks,” Colin chimed in before she even had a chance to speak.

  I dramatically rolled my eyes at the over-the-top big brother act he always tried to pull with her, and when she cut her gaze from her own reflection over to where Colin stood with his brawny arms crossed over his chest and gave her most adoring smile, I wanted to roll them again. Though Effie was always as sweet as she could be to me, and I truly liked her for the most part, she could be a bit of an attention-seeker, especially when it came to Seth and Colin. I wasn’t sure if they couldn’t see it as clearly as I could, but anytime they became protective or possessive of her, her entire face would light up with happiness. I never faulted her for having that reaction, mainly because I understood how she felt. She loved the guys just like I did, and I knew what it was like for them to make you feel appreciated and cherished. The three of them having grown up together, I could only imagine the connection they shared, and it usually didn’t bother me . . . but I was having a rotten ass day and not in the mood for her immature games.

  “It’s not a guy,” she retorted as she spun around to face all of us, keeping her eyes steady on Colin. “I already told you when I got back from Paris last month that I’d sworn off dating.”

  “Yeah, and since then we’ve met Nolan, Lance, and some other schmuck whose name I can’t remember,” Seth laughed dryly.

  “Nolan is just a friend, Lance was a horrible blind date, and there was no other schmuck!” Effie shouted at him with a stomp of her heeled foot. “And this isn’t about a fucking guy. I didn’t get the job I thought I was guaranteed, and now Mom and Dad are gonna be pissed, because I spent the summer gallivanting around Europe instead of coming up with a back-up plan in case this shit happened!”

  Throwing his arms in the air, Seth blew out an exasperated sigh. “Effie, what the fuck? Why didn’t you get the job? Wasn’t this the one at the marketing firm with your friend Monica that you were supposed to start next month?”

  She nodded as the momentarily forgotten tears welled up again. “Yes! One of their account managers is retiring at the end of September, and Monica assured me the job was mine, but—”

  “Wait,” Colin cut her off. “How did she know you were getting the job? Does this Monica chick do the hiring?”

  Effie dropped her chin to her chest as she shook her head, her gaze locked on the floor. “No, she was the personal assistant for the CEO.”

  Seth snickered as the picture became clear to everyone. “And let me guess, she was assisting him with all kinds of special projects?”

  “Yes, but he told her he loved her!” she contended. “She thought he was going to leave his wife at the end of the year and he promised her that I’d get the job, but his daughter walked in on them this weekend and demanded he fire her, or she was going to tell her mom and the rest of the family.”

  “So now you’re up shit creek without a paddle, and once again, you need someone to bail your ass out,” her brother admonished as he gave his best disappointed father look.

  Clenching her jaw, she pinched her brows together and threw daggers at her only sibling. “Seth, I don’t need a fucking lecture from you. I’m sure Mom and Dad will be happy to give me an earful when I’m forced to tell them I won’t be able to start paying my own rent and car payment in a couple of months.”

  “There are other damn jobs you can apply for, Alexandria! Get on a fucking computer and—”

  The ringtone to Colin’s phone—some rap song I’d never heard before that fittingly kept saying “Excuse Me” over and over again—interrupted the conversation, and I had to bite my lip to keep the laughter from escaping. My husband picked up all kinds of music from his teammates that I’d never heard before, and usually I didn’t care for most of it, but I made a mental note to look that one up.

  He pulled his cell out of his pocket and glared at both Seth and Effie, silently warning them to keep their mouths closed. “Hey, Barry. What’s up?”

  Waiting to hear what his PR rep had to say, he glanced down at his watch and grimaced. “Yeah, we got held up a little bit, but we’re on our way now. I didn’t know I was supposed to go down on the field before the game.”

  Another pause. “Sure, no problem. I’ll stay after to do autographs and pictures. Just let their people know I’ll have Monroe, Seth, and Effie with me, so they’ll need field credentials too. We should be there in a half-hour, hopefully before first pitch.”

  He exchanged goodbyes then disconnected the call. “Sorry, Ef, but we’re gonna have to deal with your problem later. Kids from the Make-a-Wish foundation are at the game and we need to get there ASAP. Are you still coming with us?”

  Wiping away the wetness on her cheeks with the backs of her hands, Effie rolled her shoulders back, straightened her posture, and curled her lips up in a charismatic smile. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Sorry you’re late ‘cause of me. I’ll make it up to you, Colin. I promise.”

  “No need for all that.” He replaced his grumpy expression with a grin of his own as he grabbed the keys to the Range Rover and ruffled her hair. “Now let’s get going, brat. Maybe I can introduce you to a few of the guys I know on the team after the game and we can do something about your no-dating thing.”

  The two of them strode away together in the direction of the garage discussing who Colin did and didn’t know on the Red Sox, neither having any problem forgetting about the conversation that had been taking place. After Seth and I exchanged a knowing there’s-nothing-we-can-do-about-it look, we followed behind them without a word and got into the SUV.

  The baseball game had been awesome, a pitching duel where the Sox and the Yankees had both struggled to produce any offense until Christian Garcia, Boston’s rookie shortstop, hit a solo homerun over Fenway’s Green Monster in the bottom of the eighth inning. After a slight scare when our closer walked the first two batters in the top of the ninth, he struck out the next three to seal the victory and clinch a playoff spot fo
r the hometown team.

  Needless to say, by the time we reached the field from the box suite we had watched the game from, everyone was in full-out celebration mode. Players, coaches, and front office personnel were surrounded by family and friends, fans, and members of the media, everyone wanting to share in the jubilant memories being made. Between the nail-biting game and then witnessing the heartfelt smiles and congratulatory remarks, I briefly escaped the melancholy that had settled in my soul throughout the afternoon and evening. Even though I couldn’t completely stop thinking about Allison and the upcoming battle she was about to face, the game and festivities did finally lighten my mood some.

  “There it is!” Colin exclaimed as he suddenly appeared in front of me and looped his arm around my waist, lifting me off the infield grass.

  Squealing as my feet went airborne, I clung to his neck and grinned. “There what is?”

  “Your smile, beautiful. I thought maybe you lost it somewhere when you went to lunch today because I hadn’t seen it since you left.” He pressed a sweet kiss to my lips while holding me up against him. “But I see you found it again, so I won’t have to send out any search parties.”

  I laughed a deep belly laugh and rested my forehead to his. “Oh, Colin, I love when you get all soft on me. You’re just like a life-sized stuffed animal.”

  “Just for you, Roe,” he replied softly as he lowered me to the ground. His eyes darted over to where Seth was chatting with an attractive young woman, who, based on the way she was thrusting her abundant cleavage up in his face and rubbing her hand along his forearm, was looking to play her own game of long ball. Unable to conceal the aggravation in his voice, Colin grabbed my hand and dragged me in the opposite direction, muttering under his breath, “You and me to the end, baby girl.”

  For the second night in a row, we didn’t make it home until the early morning hours, and after the roller coaster of emotions I’d experienced over the previous thirty-six hours, I was more than exhausted; I was drained, depleted, and mostly just done. After Effie jumped in her car and took off the minute we returned and I gave Seth a goodnight hug and kiss on the cheek, I left him and Colin downstairs to say their goodbyes privately as I trudged up to my master suite on the third floor and headed straight for the shower.