Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jason
Ticket’s booked and in your inbox
Hailey
Got it! Thank you so much
You don’t have to keep thanking me every time I do anything
Yeah, man. I kinda do. You’ve spent thousands of dollars already, you’ve given me a way out of the collapse of everything, and you’re letting me move in with you. The absolute least I can do is say thank you
I’m also offering to marry you so you have access to everything. Are you going to say thank you when the judge says, “You may kiss the bride?”
Maybe. Depends on how good the kiss is
I tap my fingers on the side of my phone, reading that last message over again.
I’m tempted to say something like, Oh, it’ll be good.
Or, You’ll definitely thank me then. But I also don’t want to get too flirty.
I promised this wasn’t that kind of situation.
I said it was just business, just practical, just a beneficial arrangement, though she definitely benefits more than I do.
Still. It’s not like I need anything. I have my dream job, plenty of money, friends and family I love and who love me. What more could a guy want?
In this case, it’s to help his best friend’s little sister when she’s basically hit rock bottom. I can’t even imagine what she’d be doing if her car had died in front of someone else’s house. I would’ve never known she needed help if it hadn’t happened right in front of me.
Every time I think about it, I’m so glad I was there. And in two more weeks, she’ll be here.
Instead of responding to Hailey—because nothing I can think to say would be at all appropriate—I look through my list of text messages. I want to talk to someone about this, but I’m not sure who the best person would be …
Would any of my friends on the team understand what I’m going through?
I dunno. Abernathy’s always good to talk to, but this is kind of a wild situation. Dozer? Or Bouchard? They’re both in stable relationships that started off kinda weird. Especially Bouchard. They weren’t even really dating for a while, though they let everyone think they were.
That’s probably the closest to my situation. After debating whether I should call, I start to type out a text, then think that might be worse and call him instead.
He picks up just as I’m sure it’s going to voicemail. “Chalmers? You okay, man?”
“Yeah, fine. Why?”
“I dunno. You called me. I can’t think of a time you’ve ever called me. So I thought maybe you were in the hospital or something.”
“Oh, ha. No. No. Everything’s fine.”
“Okaaay. So? What’s going on? Are you staging an intervention for Jenkins or something?”
“What? No. Why? Does he need an intervention?”
“Not that I know of. Do you know something?”
“No.”
“Well, then why’d you call?” He sounds exasperated, and I hear a woman’s voice in the background.
“Look, I just …” Now that I’m on the phone, I’m not even sure how to start. So I go from the beginning. “So, uh, back in high school, my best friend died of a brain tumor.”
“Oh, shit. Jesus. That’s terrible. I’m sorry, man.”
“Yeah. Thanks. It was pretty awful, but that’s not the point right now. He had a little sister named Hailey, and before he died, he made me promise to look out for her.”
“Okaaay.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I lay it all out—how I barely kept in contact, how her car broke down in front of my parents’ house after delivering my food while I was home visiting, how that one stroke of bad luck meant that she wouldn’t be able to make money basically at all.
“That’s terrible, man. And her folks just checked out completely? What the fuck?”
Sighing, I nod. “Yeah. It’s pretty shitty, I agree. I know grief and loss affect people in different ways, and I can’t imagine losing a child.”
“Right. But they also had another child. Didn’t she deserve better?”
“I think so. Anyway, I invited her to come live with me. And, uh …” This is the part that I’m really hesitant to verbalize to anyone else. “Well, um, I said we should get married. That way, she’d have health insurance, and it would be easy to get her a credit card and …”
“Jesus, Jason.” His use of my first name stops me in my tracks more than anything else. My teammates almost never call me Jason. It’s always Chalmers. “You proposed? What’d she say?”
“Well, she’s going to be here in two weeks.”
“She said yes?!”
“Not … not exactly. She agreed to move out here, but she hasn’t agreed to marriage.”
He blows out a breath. “Well, that’s good at least.”
“How do you figure?” What the fuck?
“It means she’s not just after you for your money.”
Chuckling dryly, I shake my head. “You should’ve seen how hard I had to work just to get her to let me feed her. The thing is, she took a little time to think about my suggestion—”
“Suggestion,” he breaks in with a snort.
I ignore him. “I know this means she doesn’t have any other options. She mentioned talking to her parents, and while I don’t know for sure, I assume she did, and either it wasn’t enough, or they wouldn’t help at all. If she’s coming here, it’s because she doesn’t see any other choice.”
“So you’re trying to take advantage of a desperate woman?”
“What? Fuck you. How is me offering to marry her taking advantage of her? She’s the one gaining everything here.”
He chuckles. “Okay. Well, I’m glad we’ve got that sorted. There are men who like to use their money and influence to lure desperate young women into terrible situations.”
“Oh, and you think I’m one of those?”
Another low chuckle. “No. But it’s funny to listen to you get your panties in a twist.”
“My panties aren’t twisted, thank you very much.”
That provokes a raucous laugh.
“And I don’t wear panties!”
“Uh-huh. Sure, you don’t. God, I wish this was on speaker so Maggie could hear it. She’d love this.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Calm down, Chalmers. I won’t. I’ll be telling her about it later, though. You know that, right?”
Grinding my molars, I blow out a breath. “Yeah. I guess. But don’t go blabbing it around to anyone else, okay?”
“This is a blab-free zone. Promise. And you know Maggie’s good at keeping secrets. But having her know ahead of time won’t hurt you. She’ll be able to get in front of any rumors on social media so the spin is all in your favor. That’s her job, after all.”
“I guess you’re right,” I grumble. I’ll probably need to let Molly know as well, especially if we do get married. She’s in charge of the team’s PR, after all.
“While I appreciate the confidence, can I ask why you called me?”
“I just needed to talk about it. Am I crazy?”
“Oh, yeah. One hundred percent.”
That makes me laugh a little. “Fine. I guess I deserve that. Is it the bad kind of crazy, though?”
“Well,” he says thoughtfully, “let’s see—you feel guilty for not keeping closer tabs on your dead best friend’s little sister after you promised him you’d look out for her. So now you’re moving her in with you, paying all her bills, and offering to marry her. That about right?”
“What would you do if you were me, man?” I sound defensive. I know it. But he makes it sound so out there when he just lays it out like that. “Or what would you want if it were your little sister left to fend for herself after you died? Wouldn’t you want someone to look out for her like this?”
He sighs. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound quite so crazy. It almost sounds … noble.”
“Thank you. Wouldn’t you feel like absolute dog shit if your best friend’s little sister literally had nowhere else to turn and you didn’t help her? And it’s not like I can’t spare the money. I’ve been socking most of it away for years, only splurging on a few luxuries here and there.”
“Tell me about it, man. You’re practically a monk.”
I grunt. “That seems extreme, but okay. Fine. But wouldn’t you do everything you could to help? If Maggie’s car died and she couldn’t afford another one or to get it fixed, wouldn’t you get her a new car? And you got her a job in the front office.”
“Hey, now. She got herself that job by being awesome. I just passed along her resume.”
“Right. And this is my way of giving Hailey the space to be able to get her awesome job. She just doesn’t work in a field where I can give her resume to Molly and get her a job with the team.”
“Too bad,” he says, and I sigh.
“The point is, you wanted to help Maggie before you two were even really a couple, right?”
“Well … okay. Kind of. I also wanted her to help me. My reputation was in the toilet. If anything, she helped me more than I helped her.”
“Right. So this is like that, but reversed. She’s the one who needs help. The difference is, she’s not asking for it. I’m just offering. Wouldn’t you do the same in my shoes?”
He’s quiet for a long moment, then he sighs again. “Yeah. Yeah, man. I probably would.”
“Okay. So I’m not crazy.”
“That, or we both are.”