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“I’m so sorry,” I say the moment my brother picks up. “Is Rory okay?”
“Yeah,” he says. “But Jules called me because she’d been trying to get a hold of you and you weren’t answering. Nathan is supposed to be at the stadium for some press thing?”
“Shit!” I screech. “Can you—?”
“I’ll keep Rory until the afternoon… but you owe me.”
The rest of the week passes, and somehow we pull planning the fundraiser together. It’s amazing what a budget like that of the Dallas Cowboys will do. Nathan and I don’t see much of each other in the chaos of football practice and organizing track and field day. It’s all I can do most days to get Rory to and from school and home safely each night.
By the time it’s track and field day, it feels like no time has passed. I stand on the field, wearing a Cowboys jersey and baseball cap. I’m talking with a reporter from a local paper while the girls' soccer team is doing the circuit field events the team set up for them.
Nathan keeps shooting me grins and smirks. I hate that we haven’t had a chance to talk about the other night, especially with Courtney circling him like a vulture. Nathan did text me the morning after our big talk to say that he was trying to give me some space, but would be ready to move forward as I was.
The problem is, I don’t know what I want.
Do I want to tell Rory the truth and give this a shot? Try being together for real. If we were normal, we’d casually date and not involve Rory until things got serious, but I can’t casually date her father and not tell her the truth.
What if things don’t work out? I suppose we’d just have to learn to co-parent in peace, but that might break Rory’s heart.
I try to shove those thoughts away and focus instead on the potato sack races that the girls are doing against the Cowboys. The tiny seven and eight-year-old girls jumping beside the six-foot players is arguably even cuter than the puppies the other day.
Jules is over by the long jump. Someone made the mistake of giving her a whistle, which is proving to be a good source of amusement.
“So, what gave you the idea for a track and field day for a local school?” the reporter, a man around my age, asks, pencil at the ready.
“Nathan Sterling, actually,” I say, casually. “It was all his idea. We’d been tossing around ideas for some community outreach the team and Nathan could do, you know, ways to give back. He saw the flier for the girls’ soccer team needing a sponsor to get to the championships and he thought it was perfect.”
The reporter nods as he jots that down. “I heard this is your daughter’s team? Is that correct?”
Taken aback, my smile gets tighter. He must’ve seen the posts the other day about Nathan and me furniture shopping. Lila already ripped me a new one about that one. Professionalism. HR violations. I clear my throat, “Yes, it is. That’s her over there, at the high jump… with, er, Nathan.”
The reporter looks off in that direction. “Wow, the resemblance is striking.”
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
A crease forms between the reporter’s brows. “She looks just like you.”
Jesus, I need anxiety meds. Breathe, Rossi. “Oh, you think so?” I say. “Well, I’m flattered.”
The reporter’s keen eyes flick once more between Nathan, Rory, and myself. “So, how well do you know Nathan Sterling?” He knows exactly what he’s doing.
Part of me wishes he’d just come out and ask what he’s implying. Put me out of my misery. “We actually went to school together. He was my brother’s best friend. We grew up close,” I say, letting all sorts of innuendo bleed through my words. I suppose the ruse is becoming exhausting, and an ever-growing part of me needs it to end.
“Uh-huh.” More scribbling. While part of me wants to rip the curtain open on my private life, the other half of me, the half that’s scared shitless, is dying to rip that notepad from his hands and find out what exactly he’s writing about us. “Do you dance and cuddle with all of your high school buddies?”
“Excuse me?” I say.
“I mean, I have to ask about it. Pictures of you two and pictures of him and Courtney have been everywhere. You have half the internet foaming at the mouth waiting for a catfight. So, what’s the inside scoop? Are you and Nathan together, or is he with Courtney?”
“I–uh–”
Cheering turns both our attention to the high jump where Nathan now has Rory on his shoulders and is running her toward us. The rest of the girls’ soccer team is running alongside them, cheering and laughing.
Nathan stops beside me, Rory still on his shoulders, which saves me having to answer, and I’m not mad. “You’re looking at the newest high jump champion. I think we have an Olympian on our hands.”
The reporter drops the questions and instead starts in questioning Rory and the girls about how cool it is to be hanging out with the Dallas Cowboys. Nathan lifts her down and poses for some pictures.
When that’s over, and the team is gathering on the sidelines for popsicles, Rory runs up to me. “Mommy, guess what? Nathan says we can have my birthday party at his house!”
