Page 23 of Going for Two
“Do you think you’ll always stay in sports? Or do you think you’ll go into private practice in the future?” I watched Henry twirl his spaghetti around his fork using a spoon and knew the two of us had grown up in very different households. “I think you could get a lot more money in private practice and potentially have some well-connected clients. It’s who you know in the business world.”
“I think I’ll stay in professional sports for as long as I can. It’s where my heart is.”
Henry’s eyes were more focused on his spaghetti than on me. “Football is a dying sport, Charlotte. All the aftereffects that are starting to become known from head injuries are bound to run that sport into the ground.”
I cringed at the use of my full name. Nobody used my full name other than my father, and that wasn’t exactly the reminder I wanted during a date. I had even asked Henry to call me Lottie at the beginning of the date, but it seemed he insisted on using Charlotte instead.
Any response I had died on my lips as I stared at him with my mouth slightly agape. I’d never had a problem standing up for myself about how I’d earned the right to be in the profession I was, but that had always been with people who weren’t a part of my life. They weren’t supposed to champion me and my life the way a true partner or my family were supposed to. I had never had to defend myself with anyone that was supposed to care about me.
Suddenly I recognized the feeling churning in my stomach. It was the same way I had felt when my father had called me by my full name and laughed when I told him that I wanted to play football—only because I wanted to spend more time with him. If I showed interest in what he loved, maybe he’d love me too. My father had always looked down on any interest of mine that I tried to share with him, and the way Henry wrote off the profession I had worked so hard on my entire life had me feeling like I was a little kid again looking for recognition.
“Excuse me,” the waiter interrupted, which I couldn’t have been more grateful for in the moment, “but this bottle of whiskey was sent from the table over there in the back. They mentioned that you may enjoy your dinner with something a little stronger than wine.”
I followed the waiter’s hand motion to see three men that I thought I had left at Gateway Stadium. Derek had on a pair of sunglasses and a wide smile, while Hawthorn and Nolan both looked like children who had been caught red-handed. My eyes narrowed as Derek waved at me.
“Excuse me,” I told Henry. I ignored his protests and questions of where I was going as I stalked across the dining room toward the table in the corner.
Hawthorn looked like he was trying to somehow pass through the wall he was sitting against while Nolan avoided making eye contact. Derek lowered his sunglasses once I was right on top of them.
“What thehellare you guys doing?”
“Did you like the whiskey?” Derek asked.
“Why are you guys here?” I asked again.
“I thought the whiskey was a nice thought,” Hawthorn added casually, as if the three of them hadn’t just been spying on my date. “That man looked like he wouldn’t let you get a word in and in my experience, whiskey is a much better drink for situations like that.”
I pinched the skin between my eyebrows and let my eyes drift closed as I took in a deep breath. When I opened them again, I met a pair of rich brown ones that looked at me with an emotion I hadn’t seen from them before—concern.
But why would Nolan Hill be concerned about me? Why would he care?
“I am currently on a date with a man who is a tech engineer that I’m trying to figure out if I want to go on a second date with and youthree”—I pointed at each in turn—“will not ruin this for me. Don’t you have somewhere else you could be to celebrate your win?”
“I don’t think there is anywhere else we’d rather be.”
I wanted to rip the cheeky grin on Derek’s face right off. “You are unbelievable!” A few dinner patrons gave us curious glances as my voice began to rise to what my mother would have told me was not an “inside voice.”
“And you—” I turned to glare accusingly at Nolan. “You of all people know what doing this means to me, even if Henry isn’t going to be the person I end up marrying.”
Nolan’s eyes bored into mine as the table fell silent. Finally, he cleared his throat—his eyes never leaving mine. “You deserve to be going out on dates with someone who’s interested inyou, Lottie. Someone who’s interested in what you have to say and knows exactly who they’re on a date with. Someone who would never take that for granted. That’s who you deserve to go on a date with. Not someone like Henry.”
I saw Hawthorn’s eyebrows shoot up at Nolan’s comments and Derek’s lips twitched upwards, as if he was fighting to keep a smile off his face.
You deserve to be going out on dates with someone who’s interested in you, Lottie.
I wasn’t sure why my heart was racing at such a simple endearing sentence, but it took nearly an entire minute before I was able to trust myself to speak again.
“Thank you for the sentiment, but I’m going to go back to my date now and for my sake, please don’t remind me that you’re here if you stay.”
Nolan’s jaw clenched and that same muscle jumped in his jaw from whenever I did something that annoyed him. Everyone had to kiss a few frogs to find their prince. Who was Nolan to judge me for that?
When I returned to Henry with an apology ready, he waved me off and told me that my absence gave him time to order us dessert. The waiter set down a tiramisu that looked delicious, but I couldn’t focus on the decadent flavors that exploded in my mouth while I ate it because all I could feel were a pair of eyes on my back for the rest of my date.
Chapter 11
Nolan
“So, are we still not going to talk about how you had to death-grip the table on Sunday night at dinner when Henry and Lottie left?” Derek asked me as the two of us walked toward the practice facility to get some extra work in with Hawthorn the following Wednesday.