Breaking Tackles: A Taking Flight Novel (28 page)

“I’m
fine
,” I say fiercely. “Next week I’m going to start adding meat back into my diet.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. I promise.”

“Okay, good,” she says. “So do you have anything fun planned for tonight?”

“We have a publicity dinner with the Montgomerys.”

“Fancy!” Sophie says. “That’ll be great.”

“Yeah, it should be. We’re going to some swanky French place.”

“Mmm,” Sophie says. “Crème brûlée.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Courtney,” she says, her voice serious. “You have to eat something more substantial than a freaking half of an avocado for dinner.”

“I will,” I say. “It’s not like I can go to a restaurant and order just an avocado.”

“Okay,” Sophie says. “And enjoy yourself. Don’t worry about cameras. You’re in New Orleans, with your fiancé, hanging out with football royalty. Have fun.”

When she puts it like that, it does sound like a pretty cool thing. Even though I’m annoyed at her for criticizing me for trying to look good, I smile and say, “I promise.”

Adam

I’m worried about my fiancée.

I knew Courtney was dieting. I knew she was working out. But I didn’t think it had come to
this
. The fact that it was like pulling teeth to get her to eat a banana and half a bowl of bland tomato soup is something that I never thought we’d go through.

And I have no idea how to talk to her about it. I don’t want to make things worse. I don’t want her to think that I’m criticizing her or unhappy with how she looks, since that’s obviously something that she’s very concerned about.

I’d love to think that this is just because of the stress with the paparazzi, but I think it’s more than that. And I don’t know how to get her to talk to me about it.

So while she’s in my bedroom talking to Sophie, I pick up my phone and do something that I’m sure she’d see as a betrayal.

I call her mom.

“Hello?” Linda says into the phone.

“Linda, hi. It’s Adam.”

“Adam!” she says. “What a surprise.”

“I know,” I say, feeling awkward and a bit uncomfortable. I love Linda. She’s warm and funny and one hell of a good cook. But I’ve never called her before. I called Courtney’s dad to tell him that the photos of Mariella and me aren’t what they look like and that I would never disrespect his daughter or family that way. But I didn’t speak with Linda. And now I have to tell her that I’m concerned about the health of her only daughter.

“How are you?” she asks.

“Good,” I say. “But there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Okay,” she says, sounding uneasy.

“I’m sure you know that Courtney has been losing weight recently.”

“Yes,” she says. “She’s been very committed to her diet. Just the other day, she asked if she could go shopping with the credit card because none of her clothes fit anymore! Isn’t that crazy?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I know she’s trying to be healthy, but I’m getting concerned about her.”

“How so?” Linda asks.

“Well, I’m sure you know that she’s with me this weekend.”

“Yes. She texted to let me know that her flight made it in safely.”

“Right,” I say. “In that regard, all is safe. But when we got to my apartment, it was obvious that she was really hungry. We have dinner plans several hours from now, and she told me that she would just wait until dinner to eat.”

“That doesn’t sound like her.”

“I know,” I say. “But there’s more. Her stomach was growling loudly, so I told her that she had to eat something. She wolfed down a banana and then when that didn’t tide her over, she made a can of tomato soup, but only ate half of it and said that she was full.”

Linda clucks her tongue at that.

“I’m concerned that this diet has gone too far, and on top of that, I think something more is going on with her. But I don’t know how to get her to talk to me about it.”

“Do you think she’s developed some sort of eating disorder?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I say. It’s the truth. I don’t know anything about eating disorders, except for that they are scary. “But I know that Courtney isn’t really acting like herself. I’m concerned.”

“Okay,” Linda says, her voice soft but serious. “I never thought that this would be something we would be facing.”

“I know,” I say sympathetically. “I’m sorry to call you with this sort of information.”

“No, you’re right to call,” she says. “I wish I knew what to tell you. Just keep an eye on her this weekend. Make sure that she eats. Let her know that you love her. I think that’s really all you can do.”

“Okay,” I say, running a hand through my hair. I feel helpless. Not even her mom knows what to do.

“I’ll make sure to surprise her with a visit this week at school. I haven’t seen her since the engagement party, though we’ve talked on the phone several times. Maybe seeing her in person and talking to her about all of this will give us some answers.”

“I think that would do it,” I say, hoping that we’re both right.

“Take care of her this weekend,” Linda says. “And thank you so much for calling.”

We get off the phone and I sit on a kitchen stool, looking into the sad bowl of soup, trying to figure out how I can make this whole situation better.

I want to take care of Courtney. But she also has to take care of herself.

And I have no idea how to make her do that.

“So?” Courtney asks when she comes out of my bathroom, where it’s taken her an hour and a half to get ready for dinner tonight.

It used to take her no more than twenty minutes. When she was dressing up.

But I have to admit that she looks incredible in the dress and heels.

“You’re stunning.”

She smiles wide and says, “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

I look down at my slacks, shirt, and tie, and shrug. I hate getting dressed up. It makes me feel like an imposter. But I say thanks anyway.

“Ready to go?” I ask, and she grabs her small, bright-red purse that doesn’t have a strap. She just carries it in her hand.

“Yep,” she says brightly. “This will be fun. I’m excited to hang out with Jax and Melissa.”

On the drive over, the rain Courtney flew through finally starts up.

“Of course,” Courtney mutters as the first raindrops hit the windshield. “Do you have an umbrella in here?”

“Maybe in the backseat,” I say, though I don’t really think there is one in here. I normally don’t worry about the rain and just get wet if I’m outside.

Courtney turns and looks in the backseat for one and says, “I don’t see it. Maybe in the trunk?”

“Doubtful.”

“Shit,” she says, pulling down the visor and looking at herself in the mirror. “Well, there goes my hair.”

I look over at her and don’t understand what she’s talking about. Her hair looks exactly the way it did when she came out of the bathroom. “You look great, Court. Don’t worry about it so much.”

She rolls her eyes and says, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“But I want to,” I say, hoping that maybe that will get her to open up to me.

She shrugs and flips the visor back up. “I worked really hard to look pretty, and the rain is going to make my hair look frizzy in all of the photos.”

So it is about the photos.

“You’re going to look gorgeous no matter what,” I say.

“Thanks,” she says weakly.

We’re quiet the rest of the drive, the radio playing softly in the background.

It’s weird.

I don’t like it.

When we pull up to the restaurant, I’m thrilled to see that there’s a covered drop-off point and a valet.

“Oh good,” Courtney says, sounding relieved when she sees that she won’t be drenched by the rain, which has steadily picked up.

When I put the car in park, a valet comes over to give me a ticket and take the keys, and Courtney gets out of the car and to the door without a drop of rain on her. When I join her at the entrance to the restaurant, she takes my hand and I say, “See? Nothing to worry about.”

She smiles, this time genuinely, and says, “I guess I was being a little dramatic. Sorry about that.”

“No worries,” I say. “If I had spent that much time on my hair, I’d probably be a little dramatic about it, too.”

She laughs at that and I ask, “Ready for dinner?”

“Definitely.”

We walk through the doors and the hostess immediately recognizes us, leading us to the table where Jax and Melissa are already seated. Both Montgomerys stand when they see us, and we go through a round of saying “hello” and “it’s good to see you” before we all get seated and start perusing the menu.

Courtney and Melissa begin chatting about a piece of Courtney’s jewelry and I turn to Jax. “Have you been here before?”

“A couple times,” he says. “Everything I’ve had here is great.”

“Any recommendations?”

“The beef bourguignon is delicious,” he says. “If you’re not freaked out by snails, the escargot here is really great.”

“I’ve never had snails,” I say, trying not to wrinkle my nose at the thought of eating them.

“If you’re willing to try them, we can order them to start.”

“Sure,” I say, always willing to try something new.

“Honey,” Jax says, cutting into the ladies’ conversation, “I think we’re going to get the escargot to start. Kistler has never had it before.”

“Oh? It’s actually really good. Especially here,” Melissa says, smiling. “Should we get a second appetizer?”

I look to Courtney and her head is down, looking over the menu. If I’m not mistaken, she looks a little pale. I hope it’s not due to the thought of eating snails.

“Anything you want?” I ask Courtney.

She shakes her head. “Whatever you guys want is great.”

“The charcuterie plate is always good,” Jax says. “And the red wine mushrooms.”

I nod and Courtney gives a closed-lip smile.

“Let’s get all three,” Melissa says lightly.

“Do you guys know what you want for your mains?” Jax asks. When Courtney and I both nod, he motions for the waiter, then proceeds to order a bottle of wine and the starters.

“Ladies?” he says, when it’s time to order the main dishes.

Melissa goes first, ordering in French, and when the waiter looks at Courtney she says, “The beet salad, please.”

The waiter nods and then looks back at her expectantly. But she looks over at me, as if that’s all she’s ordering.

Then I realize it
is
all she’s ordering. My eyebrows raise involuntarily, and as I’m opening my mouth to ask her if that’s all she’s ordering, Melissa beats me to it.

“Are you sure that’s all you want?”

Courtney nods and says, “I’m not incredibly hungry. I think the turbulent flight this morning whisked away my appetite.”

Melissa nods as if in understanding, but she catches my eye and I see a question there.