Chapter Twelve
Nobody likes to get Dick-slapped.
Lily
This was never an easy day for me or Mom. It was my dad’s birthday, though we didn’t talk about it. We’d have lunch where the little insults we flung at each other faded into the background in favor of talking about the good times with my dad. The times before he started to drown, when he was larger than life and our family was happy.
But I already knew something was up. She chose Hattie’s of all places. I loved Hattie’s—she knew that—but it wasn’t known for being the healthiest place to eat. My mother counted calories like bankers count money. She also rode me about my own weight nonstop.
We were from two different planets; the only thing we had in common was my dad. I’m sure she would have much rather had a daughter more like her, but I’d have much rather had a mother who wasn’t a flake. Such was the wheel of genetic roulette.
“Hey, Mom.”
She sat at a four-top, platinum blond hair perfectly coiffed in the vein of Texas beauty queens. When she stood to give me the briefest of hugs, her white pantsuit highlighted long legs that ended in five-inch Louboutins. Chanel bag placed on the corner of the table, she already had a glass of white in front of her. “Hello, darling.”
I sat back, crossing my legs. “Hattie’s? Really? Isn’t it in your prenup that you have to maintain a certain weight?”
Brow furrowed, she smoothed her napkin. Perhaps I shouldn’t have expected a war and fired the first shot.
“Not everyone is like you, Liliana. We’re not all so self-assured, so confident in who we are like you are, and your father was. I’m glad you got that from him.”
I took her hand. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
There was a hint of shine in her eyes. For all her beauty and grace, Audrey would always see herself as the trailer park girl with a higher kick than IQ who’d never quite fit with the old money Dallas elite. Something they would never let her forget.
Dick would never let her forget it either.
“Have you ordered already?”
She nodded, giving me a small smile as she shook off the vapors. “I did. I got you the fried chicken. I know it’s your favorite. Of course, it’s not the best choice with your metabolism.” She considered me. “Although, have you lost weight, honey?”
Ahh, there was my mother.
She patted my hand. “It’s for the best. Didn’t Trey ask you to take some weight off at one time?”
“Yes, he did, and no, I didn’t. I haven’t lost weight, Audrey, and like I’ve told you before, I have no plans to change my body to suit anybody. Ever.” Trey was from the kind of family where things like harassment got swept under the rug. Dick had practically drooled when I’d told him and my mother that Trey asked me to marry him. When I’d caught the douche banging a prospective bridesmaid and called it off, Dick—and subsequently, my mother—had tried his damnedest to get me to overlook it. When the stalking got to its peak, my stepfather told me I was being overly dramatic and that I’d broken the poor boy’s heart.
Sigh.
Her small frown revealed the beginnings of crow’s feet. No matter, as soon as she saw them in the mirror, she’d get a peel or something.
“How are things at work?” she asked as our food arrived. Seriously, the plate of fried chicken the waiter sat in front of me was worth any amount of shit my mother threw my way. I inhaled deeply, my mouth watering before I noticed the waiter place a third plate on the table.
Shit. “Dick is coming, isn’t he?” I started to stand but my chair hit something soft and wouldn’t scoot back.
“Yes, Liliana. I asked your mother to invite you to lunch.” Dick’s grumbly bass gave me a case of the willies. I hadn’t smelled him this time. Usually, I could smell his nauseating combination of Drakkar Noir and unwashed taint long before I saw him.
“Hmm, new cologne, Richard?”
I shot my mother a glare, but deep down I was disappointed. I expected disappointment out of her regularly, but not today of all days. Today was supposed to be about my dad. I don’t know why I was surprised, really. Audrey had a long history of choosing Dick over me. God forbid she disappoint her cash cow. He might not pay for her Chanel habit.
Ignoring my question, he rounded my chair to sit in his own. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you, darling. It’s come to my attention you’ve taken on a new training client.”
Ugh. He was no more than a sleazy used car salesman in a four-thousand-dollar suit. Tall and slight, he wore his salt and pepper hair slicked straight back à la Gordon Gekko. Manicured eyebrows, and always the red power tie. Oh, and I couldn’t forget the stubble. It was comical. The ever-present beard scruff was not only a little too long to give him the appearance he was going for—you know, hip—it was scraggly and slid straight into what I thought of as the Midlife Crisis shave.
I had no reason to hide my association with Brody Shaw. He was a client helping me locate a puppy mill. That was the reality. Even if my fantasy was a tad more risqué. “Yep. Helping him train his dog. What of it?” Nothing to see here, douche bag .
His grin made me ill. My fried chicken no longer smelled like yummy goodness. For that, alone, I hated this asshole.
“I’m sure you’re aware of the scandal surrounding Mr. Shaw and a few of his teammates. What you don’t know is that Mr. Barnett would like him gone. See, Brody slept with his twenty-one-year-old granddaughter not long before the fantasy suite came to light. It wasn’t made public for obvious reasons.”
The news made something in my gut knot.
I knew Brody got around, but really? The owner’s barely legal granddaughter? Geez. “What does that have to do with me training his dog, Dick ?” I overpronounced the word and caught my mother squirming in my periphery.
Dick leaned forward, rested his elbows on the table. “Ah, Liliana, I’ve always admired your spine. Which is more than I can say for your mother. If only you were a man, I might have made you general manager of the Bulldogs one day.” He leaned back. “Sadly, you literally weren’t born with the balls for this business. But there is something you can do for me that none of my male executives can.”
“Kiss my ass, Dick.”
“Such talk,” my mother hissed.
Dick shook his head. Producing a piece of paper from his suit jacket, he placed it next to my hand and smiled. “This is my new will—there are two versions. I’ve come to an arrangement with Mr. Barnett. In three years’ time, I’ll own a majority share of the Dallas Bulldogs. Whether or not I file the version you’re included in depends on you.”
Dick wasn’t buying me. Ever. More curious than anything, I wanted to see where he was going with this.
“I’ve noticed Mr. Shaw gravitated to you at team events before you stopped attending. You two seem to have a rapport, and now you’re working with his dog. I’d like you to develop that friendship with him and inform me about any more possible missteps so the team can get in front of them.”
Ahh, there it was. The hair on my neck prickled. He wasn’t telling me the whole truth. “I’m not a rat, Dick. And I’m not a babysitter.” I leaned forward, mirroring his pose. “I don’t care what you offer me.”
He drew his fingers away from his chin. “What if I sweeten the deal? The Bulldogs are always looking for charitable causes to donate to. I know rescue dogs are close to your heart, Liliana. I’m sure there are any number of organizations the Bulldogs could partner with. Pick one.”
Oh, this greasy bastard. On today of all days. I glanced at my mother, who was watching everyone and everything but me. At first, I thought what I felt was hate for her in that moment. It wasn’t hate. It was shame with a side of pity.
“Of course, you’d have to come home to the Bulldogs. Use the degree that I paid for? The head trainer position would be all yours along with a handsome salary. After we’re done with Mr. Shaw, that is.”
Why the hell did he want me to work for him so badly? In truth, the reason was irrelevant. Whatever it was, I could guarantee the arrangement wouldn’t be as simple as going to work for the team. I’d undoubtedly run into Trey a lot as well given he was the team’s head ortho guy and created most of the players’ treatment plans. That wouldn’t set off dude’s creeper penchant. At. All.
That was assuming Dick even held up his end to support a rescue.
So, Brody had nailed the owner’s granddaughter. It was no less than I expected from Brody, even if it hurt more than I cared to admit. It didn’t matter if he slept his way through a Hooters restaurant—no matter how much the idea made me cringe. The man’s dedication to his dog, to our cause, was reason enough not to give him up. He was a decent guy—manwhore, yes, but at this point, Brody was more than a client or a partner. He’d become my friend.
I didn’t rat on my friends.
I sat back in my seat. “Dick, that’s an interesting offer.”
My mom perked up.
I wished I hadn’t seen the small glimmer of hope on her face. “But it doesn’t matter how much money you offer me, I have something that isn’t for sale.”
I fished a twenty out of my wallet and dropped it on the table.
“Oh, really? What’s that?”
“Integrity.” I grinned.
My stepfather’s face scrunched up, making him appear his age. But, hell if I didn’t catch the slightest grin on my mom’s face before I turned to leave.
Damn it. I’d been looking forward to Hattie’s fried chicken.