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Even as I tried to unwind, tension still sizzled through my body. Trying to relax out here was not helping. Normally I would change and hit the treadmill, but I knew if I ran this late in the day, I’d be up all night. This time of year always fucked with my training, and the next Iron Man Competition was only a couple of months away, depending on which one I entered.
I’d started working out heavily when I was forty-four to relieve some stress and keep my mind off topics I really didn’t want to think about. No one, not even Carter, knew why I’d started competing in triathlons fourteen years ago, and I had no plans to share it now. It was my secret, and it gave me a little peace of mind. Not to mention it kept me looking younger than my fifty-eight years, which was a good thing. That and LED light therapy were magic.
My team, the Portland Pirates, had really come together over the last seven years and outperformed most of the league. Drafting Alex Hayes twelve years ago had been the best decision we’d ever made. He was calm under pressure and, without a doubt, our franchise quarterback. We were entering the last year of his contract, and it was part of the reason for my tension. As much as I wanted him to continue playing, I knew he wanted to spend time with his husband and children.
I couldn’t blame him for wanting that.
But I worried about what it was going to mean to lose both him and Patrick Griffin. They weren’t players you could easily replace with a rookie. We’d been extremely fortunate to get Patrick as a linebacker when Jackson Kincaid retired. That caliber of player didn’t come around often. They were unforgettable and left a lasting impression. Just like the man I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. Somehow, when I was alone, my thoughts always ended up back on him.
It had been eight days since Austin had stormed out of my office. Thinking about how passionately he’d put me in my place made me smile. I deserved it. I wasn’t intimidating, or an asshole. Most people really liked me. But not him, and I couldn’t blame him.
Jesse had informed me he’d reluctantly agreed to the job after some coaxing. I’d happily take irritated Austin over indifferent Austin any day. I didn’t see him very often even though he’d moved to Portland two years ago. But when I did, the pain was real.
I was more relieved than I would admit that he’d left the Navy. Every time things heated up in the world, I made a point to call Carter to ask about him. My best friend assumed I was asking about his younger brother out of obligation, but he couldn’t be more wrong.
Austin Wentworth and I had a history and, judging by the way he continued to scowl at me, I knew he’d never let go of the grudge he held onto like a life preserver. He’d never accept my apology, or even give me the time of day to explain why I’d reacted the way I did. I hoped getting him alone would give me a chance to explain, and hope he’d forgive me. All I could do was try, but I wasn’t holding my breath.
When my stomach rumbled and the hunger pains descended, I got up and headed back inside to see if my housekeeper had left me anything for dinner. I had a craving for her Chicken Piccata with capers.
Pulling open my subzero refrigerator in my rarely used kitchen, I looked around behind the protein drinks, cottage cheese, and bottled water. My heart sank when the only thing ready to eat was deli meat and cheese. I’d told her I’d be working late and would grab dinner when I left the office. So I had no one to blame but myself.
I closed the door and looked down at my clothes. Still dressed in my casual designer wear from the office, I decided on dinner out. Stella’s food sounded like a good option, but I didn’t want to dine by myself. It was awkward among the couples to be the only one dining alone, so I took out my phone and called my regular dinner companion, Dr. Eliana Sanchez.
The phone rang twice before she picked it up.
“Hello there. How are you?”
I smiled at her familiar voice. “Hungry. How about you? Have you had dinner?”
“No. I was just trying to decide what to fix.”
“How about tabling that thought and joining me for dinner? I have a craving for Chicken Piccata.”
“Mmm,” she hummed. “That sounds delicious. Bernardo’s?”
“You’re reading my mind. Want me to pick you up?”
“No, I better drive. I’m on call tonight, but the charge nurse in the ER said things were slow. If I drive, they won’t need me. As soon as you pick me up, they’ll call.”
“That a doctor’s superstition thing, right?”
“Something like that.”
“Okay, I’m leaving now. See you in twenty?”
“Sounds perfect. Thanks for the invite, Greer. I really didn’t want to eat alone.”
I understood that sentiment all too well. “My pleasure.”
Ending the call, I returned my phone to my pocket and picked up my keys. Bernardo’s was only a ten-minute drive, and I’d be there in no time.
Fifteen minutes later, I pulled open the door to my favorite restaurant in Portland. Bernardo’s was owned by Preston James. Even though he’d moved to San Diego with his new husband, Nick, the restaurant remained open under his friend Stella’s care. She was a fabulous chef, and I could see why he trusted leaving his baby with her.
“Good evening, Mr. Rowan. How many are in your party tonight?” the hostess asked.
“Two, please. She should be here soon.”
The girl smiled. “Wonderful. If you’ll follow me, I’ll get you seated.”
