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I purse my lips and look away while I ponder my choices. As I do, Eric picks up the card I left sitting on my desk and reads it. And as he does, I see his face redden and his features twist with anger. He looks up and shakes the card.
“Are these from Ben Givens?” he growls. “What does he mean about passion?—”
I rip the card out of his hand. “That’s not none of your business.”
“It is my business. You’re my little sister, and you need to stay away from him,” he says. “You don’t even know how many women that guy fucks. I’m not going to sit by and let him screw you over and break your heart, Bails. You need to stay the fuck away from him.”
A sneer crosses my lips, that old, familiar anger surging to the surface again. “This is what I’m talking about, Eric. I’m a grown woman, and you can’t control me. You don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re not our parents so you need to stop pretending you are.”
“You’re my sister. It’s my job to look out for you?—”
“No, it’s not. It’s really not,” I cut him off. “This is exactly why we don’t speak often, Eric. You’re my brother. You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t see.”
“Bails—”
“I knew this was a bad idea,” I say. “You need to go. Now.”
“Come on?—”
“I have work to do. Get out, Eric,” I hiss, “or I’ll have security escort you out.”
His expression darkens, and he glowers at me. Shaking his head, he turns and stalks away, muttering darkly to himself as he goes. I watch him head to the elevator, and with the rage inside of me simmering, I realize that everybody in the sports office is looking at me. My face burning so bright I can feel the warmth in the tips of my ears, I sit down, hiding from the openly curious stares behind my cubicle walls. I scrub my face with my hands and try to shake off the complex mélange of emotions churning in the pit of my belly.
Eric has been this way since our parents died, and that's why our relationship is so strained. He thinks he can tell me what to do, when to do it, and who I can see. He doesn't seem to understand that I’m a grown woman and that I don’t need his approval or his input for anything. I never have.
I’ve got a good head on my shoulders, and I grew up fast after our parents died. I don’t need Eric inserting himself into my life.
For just a minute, I thought he meant it when he talked about getting a fresh start together. About putting our differences aside and being a family again. He lured me in, and I believed he was sincere about it. Obviously, I’m an idiot for believing he could truly change his stripes.
I turn back to my computer. “God damn you, Eric.”
7
BEN
“You look amazing,” I say and get to my feet.
Dressed in a black pencil skirt and a green blouse that matches her eyes, she’s stunning and I can’t take my gaze off her as I slide the chair out for her. She thanks me and takes her seat. I walk around and sit down across from her, and an awkward silence ensues.
“I wasn’t sure you were going to come,” I finally say, breaking the tension.
“Honestly, I wasn’t sure I was going to come either.”
“Well, I’m glad you did.”
Her smile sends a flutter through my heart. “Yeah,” she says. “Me too.”
The waitress comes over and takes our drink and appetizer order. We sit staring at one another awkwardly until she comes back with our drinks. And when the waitress departs again, I laugh and shake my head.
“Sorry,” I say. “I have to confess that I’m not very good at this.”
“At what?”
“First dates,” I reply. “Or, I guess, dating in general.”
“I don’t believe that.”
I shrug. “It’s true.”
