23
Caleb
The next day, I checked in on Mrs. Cook.
“I’m sorry, darling,” she says when she opens the front door. “But the place still isn’t ready.”
“That’s alright, Mrs. Cook,” I say, handing her a piece of paper. “I just came by to give you this.”
“What is it?”
“It’s the phone number of a waterproofing company. I noticed the windows and sealant around them are pretty thin. These guys will make sure the house won’t have any flooding problems from the outside.”
She stares at the paper and presses her lips. “I don’t think I can afford those types of renos. But thank you for thinking of me, dear.”
“It’s no charge.”
She raises her eyebrows. “How’s that?”
“The owner owes me a favor, and he’ll take care of it for me.”
Mrs. Cook blinks at me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Just be sure to call this afternoon.”
“I will. Thank you. ”
I nod and walk back to my car. Mrs. Cook watches me as I climb inside. I’ve never done anything like this before, but it feels like the right thing to do. Maybe a small town brings out the neighborly side of me. I chuckle as I imagine what Charlotte would say about that. Of course, I’d never tell her what I’d just done.
When I pull up to her house, Charlotte is outside pruning a small tree, and Charlie’s throwing a baseball in the air and catching it with his glove. “Hey Caleb.”
I raise my hand. “Hi Charlie.”
He smiles. “Do you want to play catch?”
I turn to Charlotte. “Do you need some help with that?”
She blinks, then smiles as she looks at the pruning shears. “No. I’m good.”
“Okay, Charlie. Looks like I’m free. Let’s play.”
Charlie runs to the garage to grab another glove. This one is scuffed up and stiff. “Sorry, it’s grandpa’s, and he hasn’t played much since hurting his arm the last time.”
“No worries. It’s a good glove, a classic.”
Charlie smiles, and it reminds me of his mother. He has her eyes and her freckles. “Ready?” he shouts.
“Give me your best shot.”
Charlie winds up and throws the ball, which curves like a rainbow in the air. He’s eleven and I’m surprised no one’s ever taught him to throw properly. “That’s great, Charlie. Good accuracy. Now let’s give it some power.”
“How do I do that?”
I jog up to him and give him the ball. “Pull your elbow back straight, and align the ball with your ear. Then bring this leg forward to steady yourself and you get some extra power. You’ll need to use your whole body to throw. Try it.”
I run back, lower myself to my haunches, and hold my glove open. “Go ahead, Charlie. Throw it.”
The boy pulls his arm back, just like I showed him, steps forward and launches the ball at me. It hits my glove with a loud smack!
“That’s it!” I shout.
Charlie’s eyes widen, and he turns to his mother. “Did you see that?”
She laughs. “I sure did. Great job, baby.”
Charlie narrows his eyes. “You missed it, didn’t you?”
She covers her mouth with her hand. “Sorry,” she says, but those brown eyes dance. “Try it again.”
I toss Charlie the ball and he pulls his arm back. Just before he throws it, a red sports car speeds down the street and pulls up along the front yard. I recognize the car immediately.
Jason steps out and marches toward me. “What do you think you’re doing? ”
I don’t respond. It’s obvious what I’m doing, but if this asshole doesn’t back off, he’s about to find out how good my arm is.
Charlotte comes running down the front yard. “Hey, don’t speak to him like that.”
I’m not used to women fighting my battles, but in this case, it feels good to have Charlotte defend me. “Leave it alone, Jason,” I whisper.
He puts his hands on his hips and snarls at me. “That’s my boy.”
“Jason!” Charlotte shouts and her eyes plead with him. “Don’t,” she warns when she’s standing right in front of him. Jason looks down and shakes his head. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“Nothing. Charlie’s just playing catch.”
My phone rings and I ignore it, but a few seconds later, it rings again.
“Aren’t you going to fucking get that?” Jason barks.
I hate to do what I’m told by this asshole, but I grab it to turn it off. Pulling out the phone, I recognize the number. It’s my office. “Excuse me.”
I turn my back and speak in a low voice. “Travis? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, sir. Good news, actually. Teoscar’s agent asked to set up a meeting with you today. I know it’s Sunday and you’re out of town, but I also know how important this is to you. ”
“That’s good, Travis. Real good. Thank you. What time’s the meeting and where?”
“Five o’clock in your office.”
I check my watch. It’s just past eleven. “Got it. I’ll be there.”
I hang up the phone and look over at Charlotte. She’s got her arms crossed, and she’s speaking in harsh whispers with her ex. Charlie’s tossing the ball in the air again.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” I say when I reach her.
“Where?”
“I have an important meeting at the office.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Run along, now,” taunts Jason, and Charlotte glares at him.
“Tell Charlie to keep his elbow straight.”
“I will,” says Charlotte.
“I’ll see you later,” I say, but don’t move.
She stares at me, and we both know that this will probably be the last time I see her until the baby is born.
“See you later,” she whispers. “And thanks for fixing the door.”
I nod and turn to Charlie. “Goodbye, Charlie.”
The boy’s face falls as he reads something on my face. “Bye, Caleb.” I stare at him for a second longer, then run inside to grab my bag. Sage stops me in the hallway. “Are you leaving? ”
“Yeah.”
“Already?”
“Something came up.”
She frowns and shakes her head. “I really thought you were different.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just like him.”
“Who?”
“Have a good life, Caleb.”
“I’ll be back.”
“Sure, you will.”
I don’t argue with her. Although I wish I could say I’ll be back next week, I have a weekend conference in Manhattan and some big games coming up and I’ll need to entertain guests. I wish I could tell Sage that she’s wrong, but I can’t.
I stare at Charlotte as I start my car. She doesn’t look my way, but Charlie’s waving as I pull out onto the road. Jason moves to stand next to Charlotte and puts his hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t shake it off and something inside me wants to stop the car and pull it off for her. But there’s no time for that, nor do I think she’d appreciate it.
I drive through the neighborhood and leave Cedar Brook Falls behind. My life is in Queens and that’s where I’m headed.
*
Arty’s waiting for me in my office. I spot his curly blonde hair as soon as I turn the corner. Travis is here, too. He rushes forward with a red folder in his hand when he sees me. “Here’s the contract, sir. Good luck!”
“Thanks.”
I walk in and shake Arty’s hand. “Hi, Cal. I’m glad you could see me on such short notice. I worried you might be out of town.”
Strange choice of words. I wonder if someone told him I was. Is this a test?
“I was,” I say. “But I came back as soon as I heard you were ready to meet.”
If this is a test, I passed with flying colors because he smiles broadly and nods. “That’s the sort of commitment we’re looking for. I want my client to feel like he’s top priority on a team.”
“We would treat him well. Here, let me show you what we’re offering.”
For the first time, he’s listening and not putting me off. I try to keep my expectations in check, but my heart is racing and I want to fucking celebrate.
“That’s good,” he says when I’ve shown him the stock options, living arrangements, and entertainment budget. “I think Teoscar will be happy. ”
“Perfect. Why don’t we call him up and make it official?”
He puts up his hands. “Whoa, whoa! I said he’ll be happy, not that he’ll sign today. But you are definitely on the short list, Cal. I’ll be in touch.”
We shake hands, and he leaves. Travis walks in a few minutes later. “So, how did it go?”
“Well, I think. Still no signature, but I think we’re close. Real close.”
“Good work, sir.”
“Thank you. You, too. Go out for dinner with friends tonight and use the company credit card. You earned it.”
He smiles and wishes me a good night before closing my door.
After Travis leaves, I drop into my chair and look out the window. The city is beautiful—the tall skyscrapers, Central Park, the yellow cabs that line the streets. They’ve been my view my entire life, and I love it. But a face pops in my head, and I can’t seem to dismiss it.
My phone rings, interrupting my thoughts. It’s Brigitte. I’ve ignored her calls all weekend, so I finally answer it.
“Hey, is everything all right?”
“Do I only call when it’s not? ”
I think back to our limited conversations and can’t recall a single one where she didn’t ask me for something. “I’m sorry. How are you?”
“I’m good. I’m calling to see if you were busy tonight.”
“I’m free. What can I do for you?”
“Why don’t you come over for dinner? We haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Sure. That sounds nice.”
“Perfect. We’ll see you at seven.”
I have just enough time to take the elevator to my penthouse and get ready for dinner. I’m out the door and in my car by six thirty.
Michael and Brigitte live in a Brownstone. It’s near her family, so there weren’t many alternatives. Michael answers the door. “Cal, great to see you, man. Come in.”
Everything looks exactly as I remember it from the last time I came over for dinner, which may have been Thanksgiving. Plush white carpet in the living room, dark hardwood floors, and cabinets throughout with little figurines and dishes on stands. I believe those are family heirlooms, but I stopped paying attention when his mother-in-law rambled on about them after the last family dinner.
Brigitte walks into the living room in high heels and a short skirt. I’ve never seen her wear anything comfortable. She leans in and air kisses both cheeks. “Good to see you, Cal.”
“Same. Thanks for the invite.”
“Oh, it’s our pleasure. I tell Michael all the time that we should have you over more often.”
I glance at my brother and he looks just as surprised as I am. I smile but cover it with the back of my hand.
“I hate imagining you all alone in that apartment of yours all weekend.”
“Well, I wasn’t alone all weekend.”
She smiles. “I don’t want to hear about your bachelor escapades.”
This time I don’t hide my laugh. “That’s not what I was trying to say.”
“Oh?”
“I was out of town this weekend.”
“Really? Where? Not to the Hamptons?”
“No. Cedar Brook Falls.”
Her eyes squint, but her brow doesn’t furrow. Or rather, can’t furrow from the Botox. “Mmm… I think I’ve heard of it. Do the Martins vacation there?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why were you there?”
“I… um…” Shit. I hadn’t decided how I would tell Michael he would be an uncle soon, but I didn’t think this was the right moment. “I was visiting a friend. ”
“Oh. That’s so kind of you. I was just telling Trudy how kind you are.”
“Trudy?”
“Oh, didn’t I mention? I invited Trudy Hazan to join us. Her family owns several homes and businesses on Dover Court. Great little neighborhood.”
“No. You didn’t mention it.”
She laughs and tosses her long blonde hair back. The ends are much lighter than the roots.
I follow Brigitte into the dining room where a petite young woman with straight black hair, wearing a long black dress with buttons all the way to her neck, stands up.
“Trudy, this is my brother-in-law, Caleb Consuelos. Caleb, this is Miss Trudy Hazan.”
I extend my hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Trudy.”
She smiles demurely and barely looks me in the eye. Her skin is as white as porcelain with no blemishes, no beauty mark, and especially no freckles. She tucks her dress beneath her when she sits and keeps her hands clasped in her lap.
Her parents must have sent her to one of those New York City private schools that still teach posture and other antiquated lessons.
After listing Trudy’s various accomplishments at school, Brigitte turns to me and smiles. “Isn’t that quite the resume,” she says .
I look between her and my brother. He’s buttering a piece of bread and avoiding my eyes. “Ah. Yes. Are you looking for a job, Ms. Hazan?”
Brigitte’s eyes widen. It’s obvious now that’s not the case, although the question was genuine.
“No,” says Brigitte through gritted teeth. “She’s not looking for a job. But a compliment wouldn’t hurt.”
I turn to Trudy and smile. “You must be very proud of yourself.”
Trudy’s cheeks redden and I feel bad that I couldn’t come up with a better compliment, but fuck, what was Brigitte thinking, setting me up like this?
“Thank you,” she says, and adds. “I think it’s incredible you became an owner of a baseball team at such a young age. You must be proud of yourself.”
I smirk and observe her face. I can’t tell if she’s mocking my compliment or not. Her face is serene, so I’m not sure how to respond, so I play it safe. “Thank you,” I say.
Brigitte rolls her eyes, and we’re saved by a staff member serving the first course.
The meal is elaborate for a Sunday family dinner. There’s linguine, lobster, and a caviar spread. Brigitte is peppering questions to Trudy and me with less than enthusiastic responses. By dessert, Brigitte’s frantic questions turn sullen, and it seems she’s lost hope of any sparks between Trudy and me .
“So, tell us about that quaint town you visited this weekend. Oak Falls or something.”
Although I sense her forgetfulness may be deliberate, I try to be polite.
“Cedar Brook Falls. It’s a small town, about four hours north of here.” I turn to Trudy, trying to be nice. “Have you heard of it?”
Trudy shakes her head. “I’ve only been to Paris and Lake Como.”
I clear my throat, covering my smile. “Well, those are very nice places to visit. The town didn’t have quite the same tourist crowd, though, which was pleasant.”
“Oh, yes. I just hate it when I have to wait for my cappuccino in the mornings.”
“It’s truly insufferable.”
She smiles, but Brigitte narrows her eyes at me. “Who did you visit in Cedar town?”
“Cedar Brook Falls,” I say again, but she’s unapologetic for the mishap. “As I mentioned earlier, I met a friend.”
“Which friend?”
“You don’t know her.”
“Her?” She raises her eyebrows, and I realize my mistake. I turn to my brother, hoping he’ll help me out of this, but his gaze is lowered, and I suspect he’s checking his phone. He must have smuggled it into dinner .
Bastard.
“I met her in St. Kitts and we… uh… we connected.”
Brigitte glances in Trudy’s direction before redirecting her gaze to me. “Connected? How quaint. And she lives in a small town near the Canadian border?”
“Yeah, I guess it’s not too far from there.”
She smiles, but somehow it makes the conversation feel less friendly. As though the room grew colder. “What could you possibly have in common with someone like that, Cal? Do you find escaping reality amusing? I swear, the more I get to know you, the more I find you eccentric.” She laughs gaily, as though eccentricity would excuse my bourgeois behavior.
“She’s a nice girl.”
“Oh, I’m sure she is. But she’s not good enough for you, Cal.”
“You’re not my mother Brigitte.”
“Well, of course not. But someone needs to look out for you. Michael and I care about you.”
“Thank you, but I can take care of myself without anyone’s help.”
“Come on, Cal. Don’t be upset. Look, I understand it’s exciting to slum it for a while. But you must realize that’s no place for you. What future could you possibly have with someone who lives there? Unless she’s willing to move for you… which I guess is possible. What would be holding her to a small town, right?”
“She has a child.”
“A child?”
Fuck, why does this feel like I am speaking to my mother? I imagine she’s at some dinner party of her own and probably couldn’t care less who I spend my time with since she’s no longer responsible for me.
“Yes, Brigitte, a child. I raise my glass, and a server quickly refills my wine.”
“Well, all the more reason you shouldn’t be toying with her.”
“I’m not toying with her. It’s not like that.”
“Then, tell me, Cal. What’s it like? You drive four hours to be with a woman who lives God knows where—”
“Cedar Brook Falls,” I add, and her face flushes from her neck to her hairline.
“She has a child. She probably has a life, and she thinks she’s going to have it all taken care of by the rich millionaire she met—Where did you meet again?”
“St. Kitts.”
She drops her elbows on the table. She’s really losing her mind now. “St. Kitts? How the hell did she manage that? Was she another member’s guest? Does this woman trollop around our circles? ”
My fingers tighten around my glass. “Brigitte,” I warn, because she’s dangerously close to insulting Charlotte and she doesn’t deserve that sort of censure.
“She’s just looking to lure you in and pay for her and her child. I say, get out now and forget that little tryst you had while on vacation.”
Her words anger me, and while I never lose my temper, my fists tighten around my napkin.
“I’m not interested in any other relationship right now.”
“Why not? There are plenty of eligible women here in Manhattan—and the only baggage they bring is their Louis Vuitton.”
Brigitte titters at her disdainful joke. Even Trudy chuckles softly beside me.
“I can’t do that to her.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Of course, you can. Just stop calling.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s having my baby!”
Brigitte’s mouth hangs open, and Trudy drops her fork. It clatters to the ground and Michael finally looks up.
“What? What did I miss?”
Shaking her head, Brigitte practically growls, “You stupid cad. She got her claws into you and now she’ll take your money for the next eighteen years. The woman won the jackpot.”
My jaw clenches. “It was an accident.”
“Did you use protection?”
I swallow, but it’s difficult. “No.”
“Then it was no accident. You got played.” She claps her hands dramatically. “Hats off to this woman. She’s better at the game than most.”
I push my chair back and throw my napkin on the table. “Excuse me,” I say and march out of the room.
My fists clench at my sides and I barely notice the butler open the front door for me. I start the car without even thinking about where I would go.
I slam my palm against the steering wheel. Every interaction plays through my mind.
Did I get played? Did Charlotte know it was my room all along?