CHAPTER 31 Archer Bradley
Dinner
Last night was…
Fucking dammit.
It was everything.
It was supposed to be nothing. No hearts, no strings, all that bullshit she said on the bus the day she hurt her ankle.
All the things I suppose I silently agreed to when we slept together again.
I tried to avoid her. I tried to fight it.
I even fell off the grid for nearly an entire week, but none of it mattered.
The second she showed up for me and faked her way into the label of my girlfriend was the second things changed for me.
It showed me that she cared about me as a person. She wanted to be there for me, and it wasn’t just lip service. It was action.
And after a day like we had yesterday, it’s hard to imagine leaving here and leaving her behind.
Millie had a meeting with the resort’s manager, so she headed back to her room to get a change of clothes.
I check my email—my preferred method of contact from industry professionals.
I have a few from my lawyer, my publicist, and my agent regarding the foundations, but the subject line of one from my agent sticks out from the others.
Lay Lower.
Lay lower? I have no clue what the fuck that means, so I open the email.
Just a reminder that Troy told you to lay low somewhere while you’re on suspension. It’s not a great look to be photographed wining and dining with your brother and whoever your date is.
It’s not a great look? Ask me if I fucking care.
I was unfairly suspended, and I’m just living my life. Whatever it looks like is of exactly zero importance to me.
And while we’re on the subject of my brother…
I take the moment to give him a call. It’s probably on the shocking side that I’m choosing to reach out to him when I’m notorious for shutting everyone in my family out, but he's leaving soon.
Maybe a part of me wants to show both of them that I'm okay and I've moved on despite the shitty way they chose to handle things. Or maybe I just need to see one last time for myself that the two of them are a better fit than Tatum and I ever were.
I really think that might be true, given how easy things feel with Millie. And there was a time when things felt easy with Tatum too, but we were younger then, maybe not so set in our ways and maybe unsure of what we really wanted out of life.
I’m still unsure of it, to be perfectly honest. In fact, maybe I’m more unsure now than ever.
The Archer of a month or two ago never would have imagined I'd find myself in this place.
As I easily move on with someone else, I guess I feel this sense of wanting to put the past behind me.
I want Ford and Tatum to be able to move into whatever future comes next for them, just like I want to be able to move on to whatever future comes next for me.
Whether that's with Millie or somebody else.
“Archer?” Ford answers.
“Hey,” I say.
An awkward moment of silence spans between us, and then I finally say, “Can we meet for lunch or dinner before you two head out?”
“Yeah, sure. I think we'd both like that. Will Millie be joining us?”
“Of course.”
“Okay then. I’ll make a reservation for four at the steakhouse in the main tower. Does that work for you?” he asks.
“As long as it’s private, it works.” While I was pretty much left alone all day yesterday, I can’t help but think it was because it was just Millie and me.
If I eat an entire meal publicly with my brother again, more pictures might show up online when I’m supposed to be laying low.
So, to appease my agent, I guess I’ll work on laying lower.
“Great. Let’s plan on seven,” he says.
I haven’t heard from Millie in a couple hours, and surely her meeting must be over by now. We still haven’t exchanged phone numbers. I suppose I could plug my hotel phone back in, but I decide to head down to her room to surprise her instead.
I knock on the door, and when she throws it open, her eyes are rimmed in red, and she looks anxious.
“What’s wrong?” I ask immediately, walking in and pulling her into my arms.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” she says.
“You know I don’t believe that for one second.”
“It’s fine. The resort manager isn’t happy with the content I’ve been posting and made that all too clear in our meeting.” She swipes at an errant tear tracking down her cheek.
“What did he say?” I ask.
“He was very clear that I need to…nothing,” she says. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But you look so upset. Of course I’m going to worry about it.”
I’m not sure where these strong feelings are coming from. If she’s just a fling, I shouldn’t really care about the fact that she’s in her room crying over something someone else said to her.
I think it might be time to admit that at this point, it’s more than just a fling. But if it is, that’s going to make it that much harder when we have to say goodbye in the end.
Unless…
Before I finish that thought, she asks, “Why are you here?”
“I missed you,” I admit. Her eyes soften, but before she gets all weepy on me, I plow forward. “Are you good with meeting Ford and Tatum for dinner tonight?”
Her brows shoot up. “I’m shocked you want to do that considering what happened the last time we shared a meal with them.”
“I told Ford we were in if he booked a private table,” I say.
“Just tell me what you need me to do.”
I blow out a breath. “I just need you to be you. And to tell me what’s got you all twisted up.”
Her eyes dart away from mine. “It’s nothing. I need to take a shower before dinner. Do you want to hang out here?”
“Would you like an audience?”
She chuckles. “No.”
Now I know something is wrong. I think this is the first time she’s issued a rejection—even to an offer I said in jest.
She heads to the shower, and I take a seat on the small couch in her room. I turn the television on and catch some highlights from around the league—something I’ve tuned out since I’ve been here. But we’re already at the middle of the month, which means we’re halfway through our time together.
It also means I’m nearly halfway through my suspension. That should make me feel happy, but the sadness of the previous thought pulls down over me instead.
Millie emerges in a summery dress with flowers all over it.
I rise to a stand. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
I want to ask again what that manager said to her, but I leave it be. If she wants to talk, she’ll talk.
We walk over to the main tower. The weather this evening is perfect.
Low eighties, lower humidity than we’ve been having.
We hold hands as we stroll lazily toward dinner, and for as much as showing off in front of my brother started as a pretense with Millie stepping in to protect me, it doesn’t feel like a pretense anymore.
Instead, it feels like things have shifted for us.
We approach the hostess stand and are taken back to a table in a private room. Ford and Tatum are already there, and their heads are bent close together as they whisper to each other. They pull apart when we walk into the room, and Tatum is flushed.
I know that look.
He just said something sexual to her, and she’s blushing because of it.
Well, good for them, I guess.
Our lead waiter introduces himself and the two who will be helping him, and we place our drink orders.
Margaritas for the ladies, a beer for Ford, and a double whiskey for me. Hopefully they’ll come quick since it’ll help dull the nerves I have about this dinner. Why did I think this was a good idea?
We’re all perusing the menu when Millie starts with the small talk. “So you’re heading home tomorrow?”
“Mm-hm,” Tatum murmurs. “I’m not ready to leave this place yet, but we’ve both got to get back to work.”
“Bummer. Stay longer and work here like Archer’s been doing with his foundation,” she suggests.
“Are you working on the one Mom left?” Ford asks.
I nod. “Have you done anything with yours?”
Ford shakes his head. “Not yet. Tatum’s been hounding me to get moving so she can plan some epic event, but I’m not sure what I want to do with it. What route did you take?”
I glance up from the menu at my brother. “Decided to tackle college sports betting and addiction.”
His brows shoot up. “Bro, are you serious? You’re tackling gambling?”
I lift a shoulder. “I’m tackling something personal. I want to replace the evil it’s caused with something positive.”
He shakes his head, his brows still up in surprise. “I commend you for that. But your agent is okay with this?”
“Not in the least,” I admit.
He and Tatum both laugh.
“I gotta hand it to you,” my brother says. “You sure have perfected the art of giving zero fucks.”
I glance over at Tatum, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet during this exchange.
“I think it’s great,” she says softly.
I tilt my head and study her for a few beats, and I realize that she looks happy. Happier than she looked over the last couple years, anyway. She looks like she’s thriving now.
“Thanks,” I say, matching her tone. And then I change the subject. “So what are you two up to when you return home?”
“The draft is coming up, and I have a few team meetings in the coming weeks,” Ford says. “And Tate—”
“I have this huge wedding at Winston Manor I have to get back for. Kenzie has completely taken over my Vegas weddings, and I need to schedule a trip to Chicago to check the progress of the renovations at the Bradley Mansion, but that should be ready to go soon. It’s been a whirlwind few months.”
“Sounds like it,” I murmur. “And it sounds like you’re both doing well.”
They sort of lean in toward each other, I think just out of habit more than anything, and it strikes me that they’re really in tune with each other—maybe more than she and I ever were.
Ford is more serious, more practical. She’s more flighty, more of a dreamer. And somehow, they complement each other. He supports those dreams and grounds her in a way I was never able to.
It’s not to say I didn’t try, but he’s helping her make her dreams come true, whereas I was more limited in the time I could allow to help those dreams since my offseason is only three months long.
Someday I’ll retire from the game I love. Someday I’ll have the time to focus on someone else.
Or maybe someday I’ll be with the right woman who will understand the sacrifices we both have to make because of my profession. Sitting here with Tatum and Ford, seeing the easy compatibility they have together…it’s just making me see that they’re more right together than she and I ever were.
However they got to this moment doesn’t really matter anymore. Time heals wounds and all that bullshit, but I think it’s true in this case. We broke up over six months ago. They’ve been married four months.
Everything feels like it’s as it should be.
Except, you know, the whole suspension thing, and also the fact that my dad is still roaming free instead of locked up where he should be. But that’s coming. Of that I’m certain.
Millie asks Tatum about Winston Manor, and Tatum launches into all the details of her business. I learn things I never knew despite living with the woman for years and years, and I love the ease with which Millie seems to fit into this picture, here by my side, as my date, as my girlfriend.
I feel relaxed with her here beside me, and that’s a damn scary thought since in just two short weeks, she’ll be gone.