Chapter 4
STEFFI
This was the stupidest idea, Steffi thought wildly as she ran across the wet lawn that thankfully the sprinklers turned off just in the nick of time for her escape.
She had awoken this morning feeling like Cinderella with so much hope in her heart that it inspired her to take a chance.
She would go next door, make peace with the infernal man, and talk about this fake engagement…
because it would be so nice to have someone gentle to talk to.
She had a few friends at work, but they’d already texted asking her to ‘hook them up’ with free tickets.
What kind of friends did that the moment they found out she was engaged?
It was a painful realization that she had nobody to share the news with – not after her mom had passed away from throat cancer and her father had all but abandoned her for his new wife and their kids.
She had half-brothers she never talked to and not for lack of trying.
There was just too big an age gap, and she was never invited over during the holidays.
But then, like fate had heard her deepest whispers, her most private wishes and dreams, and offered her up a fairy-tale chance – to be plucked up from the toilet scum, literally, and offered the hand of one of the most beloved and famous baseball players.
She knew, because she googled her neighbor’s info until two in the morning.
She knew where Drake grew up, where his brother was stationed, that his other brother was a stay-at-home dad for some bigwig in Detroit…
and she knew that somewhere in that stuck-up version of Drake was a lively outgoing personality who loved to act up when the camera was on him.
She just wished that he could be that way around her, too…
“Ha!” she wept tearfully, wiping her face. “Didn’t see that guy this morning - at all.”
Almost an hour later, Steffi got a text – and rolled her eyes. Drake was taking the coward's way out to apologize, and that grated on her nerves. If he was man enough to bite her head off, he could do the same by apologizing face-to-face.
I need some details
On how to be nice to people?
What’s your shoe size? Dress size? And ring size?
Doing a double-take – she squinted at the phone and re-read his text several times. None of that was even remotely an attempt at an apology. He was so stubborn, so frustrating, that she was practically seething as she texted a response to him.
Are you on crack?
I’d probably be having a better time if I were…
You must be high if you think we’re still engaged – in fact, this is your official notification that we are distinctly NOT engaged.
Yes, we are!
No, we aren’t!
Don’t act like this…
Act like what? Huh?
You gonna come yell at me again? I bet the media would love to know that you yell at me – a lot!
Are you threatening me?
Shoe fits, buddy… notice there was no IF at the front of that? Hmm?
I’m trying to be nice to you
I don’t like your version of ‘nice.’
Her phone rang almost immediately, and Steffi was too incensed to answer. She clicked ignore without hesitation. It rang again – and she clicked ignore once more.
ANSWER YOUR PHONE
MAKE ME
You’re so freakin stubborn – AND WE’RE STILL ENGAGED!
“You’ve lost your blithering mind,” she muttered in disbelief and then moved to the front window, carefully peering out of the corner of her blinds to see if she was about to have a visitor.
Sure enough, Drake was walking down to the sidewalk, then up her driveway toward the front door.
The big ol’ stooge wouldn’t even walk through his precious grass?
He knocked on the front door, and she waited – silent.
“I know you’re in there,” Drake hollered loudly, banging on the door again. “I came to apologize, and the least you could do would be…”
Steffi jerked the front door open. He started in surprise and then quickly frowned at her once more.
“I need three things from you,” he began, and she interrupted him immediately.
“I need one thing from you.”
“I need your shoe, dress, and ring size.”
“And I need an apology,” she said loftily, looking down her nose at him as she lifted her chin defiantly – but in the corner of her mind, a little voice was asking why he needed her dress or shoe size.
The ring was easy to figure out because he obviously thought that he was getting her an engagement ring.
“I’m sorry,” he gritted out and gestured wildly with a deliberate look as if to say, ‘And you can answer me now…’ as he stood there.
“Seven,” she said simply – and shut the door in his face.
“Seven what?” he hollered angrily, knocking again. “A size seven shoe? A size seven dress? Is that your ring size?”
“Figure it out – now I’m busy.”
“DOING WHAT?”
A part of her couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that burst forth as he roared on the other side of the door, obviously infuriated.
She wasn’t heartless, wasn’t mean, but she really wanted him to understand that she was a person who wasn’t about to fall in line with whatever he said.
The plan was to answer his questions once he calmed down a bit or decided to make an apology for acting out…
oh, he apologized a few moments ago but there was no way he meant it with that sort of tone.
Anyone could say the words – meaning them was another story.
Peering out the blinds, she saw him walking off down the sidewalk, flinging his hands up in the air once more.
Drake looked furious, and she knew this wouldn’t be the last attempt at a discussion – but it would be the first lesson that he learned about her.
She didn’t care how famous he was – to her, he was just her stuck-up neighbor.
Dropping the sheers over the blinds, whistling softly, she smoothed the robe, marveling at the plush cotton softness as she headed to the bathroom to soak in the tub for a little bit before she had to get ready for work.
Padding barefoot toward the bathroom, she turned on the water and began to apply the foaming facewash to her skin, humming softly to herself as she thought about the last twenty-four hours. She’d gone from persona-non-grata to suddenly ‘Drake Walker’s fiancée’ with all the hoopla that came with it.
She was still getting friend requests and messages from strangers – but there were also requests from other members of his team, leaving her messages with sincere congratulations, comments about what a good man she’d ‘locked down’, and comments asking if he was as goofy around her as he acted with them.
She had no idea – and that was troubling.
These people were going out of their way to wish them both the best… and it was a lie.
Removing the robe, she sank down into the hot tub and sighed heavily.
Some people were into showers – she was a ‘tubber’.
To her, there was nothing better than soaking your body in a hot bath, and it became an everyday joy for her the moment it clicked in her head that she was an adult and could do whatever she wanted.
It was both a liberating and humbling thought, because no one was there to tell her no…
and she desperately wished that there was someone, anyone, who would do it.
Drake.
“Shoot,” she grumbled and sank down in the water, glaring at her phone where it sat on the counter nearby. “I wonder if he’s got a builder-grade bathroom like the rest of us or if he’s fixed it up too.”
Huffing loudly and dramatically for no one but herself, she sat up quickly, grabbed her phone, and ignored the water that splashed over the rim of the tub – muttering.
“I cannot believe I’m gonna be the adult in this mock relationship… he better know how much this sticks in my freakin craw right now,” she grumbled and opened her text messages – only to freeze.
She missed a notification – well, two of them.
From him.
I asked because some guys surprise their girlfriends to make an apology, and you are making it difficult when I’m trying to be nice. So, while I don’t make this a habit very often and I can be extremely stubborn about things… here we go.
I AM SORRY I YELLED AT YOU.
She smiled at her phone, read and re-read it several times, before she realized that the screen was getting blurry and her nose was clogged.
Was she crying? Oh gosh, she was bawling like a stupid idiot at the fact that he was trying to be nice, to apologize, and mentioned surprising her…
and maybe they were both hardheaded about things.
I’m sorry I got upset too – and it’s a size seven ring, size ten shoe, and a size eighteen dress.
Three dots appeared a moment later as she sat there in the tub, holding her phone and waiting.
Maybe they were making progress, maybe they could find their way to being friends.
What would it be like to be Drake Walker’s fake fiancée?
Would they hold hands? Would they go to dinner as a couple? What if he attempted to kiss her or…
Her phone dinged.
Wow – seriously? Got a couple of ‘aircraft carriers’ to go with that THICC waist, eh? Someone needs to lay off the cheesecake before the wedding…
Her eyes nearly popped out of her head as she stared at the screen in horror, made a weird noise in her throat, and then flung the phone as hard as possible, launching it across the bathroom where it clattered to the floor.
She stared at it like it was some demon from the beyond – and even spat at it – seething with anger at his rude comments.
“You know what – I don’t even care if you are broken,” she snarled hotly. “You – or my neighbor who is officially cracked in the head!”
It was nearly a week later that Steffi was hauling two bags full of groceries up to the house when Drake came out of the house, sprinting toward her with a determined look on his face.
“Go away!” she yelped immediately and started running, bags in hand, making a frantic dash across the grass to her front door.
“Steffi, we need to talk.”
“I’m done talking to you…”