Girls' Night Out (Bad Boys) (37 page)

“No problem. I hooked up with one of the comp sci nerds. We are so ready to rock this research.”

“That’s why I adore you. Work your magic.”

“Hit me. I’m up and running with the new software,” Jessica replied.

“Cory, where is the detailed analysis?” Dr. Peterson’s voice hit a frazzled note.

“Gotta go. Dr. P. needs me.”

Jessica laughed. “As always.”

Cory hung up, and was up and out of her seat, power walking into the office. “No worries. Right here.” She cocked her head at Dr. Peterson, who had stopped flipping through the files on her desk. She walked farther into her advisor’s office, over to the credenza now organized with storage shelving. “All the market research has been moved.”

“Right. Eventually, I’ll remember,” Dr. Peterson muttered. “For now, I’ll just keep yelling. Point me in the right direction.”

“We’re a team. And you will get this system if you stop fighting it.” Cory laughed, then touched the third shelf down from the top. “Green folders with blue labels. The legend for the filing system is tacked up to the wall. Plain view.”

Dr. Peterson adjusted her glasses, and squinted at the laminated sign Cory tapped. “What will I do this summer?” her advisor asked.

Cory crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow. “Why? Where are you going?” She could smell this conversation a mile away. Dr. Peterson loved to bring up the subject, or more like drop a bomb, that Paris was the place to be during the summer. Her advisor’s tenacity was mind-boggling.

“Right now, that depends on what you decide. I guess I can spend my time around here, learning the filing system. Or, we both could be in France and doing a bang-up job showing Paris how to garner university students’ attention and market savvy.”

“Is that really fair?” Cory huffed. “I don’t understand, if Mr. Bennett is so up and up, why don’t you and Dr. Carathers just fly to Paris and take France by storm? I should be inconsequential to the endowment.”

Dr. Peterson leaned against the credenza. “It doesn’t work that way. If Ryder is trying to atone for a mistake and you brush aside his gesture, then it doesn’t speak to moving ahead. Why not let me at least relay to Ryder what the holdup is.”

“I don’t owe him an explanation, and I don’t want him to know my family’s personal business.” She adamantly refused to discuss with Ryder Bennett her mother’s health. That man would make some benevolent but thoughtless offer, like he’d already done. She didn’t share with Dr. Peterson or Brett that she’d gotten several flower arrangements, emails, and other sorts of offers from Ryder Bennett. And none of them sounded professional, or like an attempt to mend any fences damaged by his past behavior. It was all a blatant attempt to seduce her and, from what she could tell, the more she refused to talk with him, the more ambitious his offers became.

If Ryder Bennett knew her mother had health issues, he’d do something outrageous. Maybe in his egotistical mind it might be construed as magnanimous, but not in Brett’s, and certainly not in her father’s. Texans didn’t appreciate being shoved aside because someone with more money might know a “better” way. Now she felt caught in the middle between UCLA and Ryder Bennett. And everyone on the sidelines was cheering her on to take Mr. Bennett’s offer. If only they knew the truth.

Dr. Peterson began thumbing through the files in the upright filing system. “You’ve done a remarkable job here in just a couple of weeks.”

Cory turned toward the window. “Thanks. I hope it makes finding things easier. No more ham sandwiches lost in files.”

“You haven’t said, how is your mom doing?”

“I just received the news that her doctor said the tests all came back looking really good.”

“The chemo worked?”

“Thank goodness it did what it was supposed to, and she has only one session left. Everyone is praying she’ll be all better. Before I couldn’t make plans for the summer without knowing how the treatment would affect my mother’s health. I still can’t until I know for sure that she’s fine.”

“Did you speak with Brett about your plans? If your mom is fine,” Dr. Peterson went to sit at her desk. She removed her glasses and tossed them on a file, then rubbed her eyes. “No one is saying it would be easy to spend the entire summer apart from your fiancé.”

“I hear a distinct but...” Cory said, still gazing out the window at the green trees.

“No buts. I hope you know, we all have plenty to keep us busy right here. You’re free to choose.”

“Am I? Doesn’t feel like I am with so much riding on my decision.” The university had already listed the endowment as a possibility to attract future students. The funding would be matched by another anonymous backer. If this was freedom, she didn’t like it one bit.

She stared at a flock of birds that had landed. Arriving from some northern part, and looking for a place to rest and find food. Southern California had year-round mild weather, and before she’d arrived Cory had believed L.A. would be the place she’d find her footing. Now it felt like a prison, and she was forced to carry the weight of a burden that depleted her excitement and desire to spread her wings.

Back home, the trees would have dropped their leaves by now. Except Mama would have them raked up and carted to the burn pile for a big bonfire. She’d heard the family had held off doing the customary winter festival until next week. Mama was on her last course of chemo treatment today. She’d call her tonight. If the next round of tests all came back good, officially her mom would no longer be classified as a potential cancer victim. She’d be a survivor.

Please
, Cory prayed.

She looked up at the sky and wondered what Brett was doing. Just about nine in the morning in Dallas, and he’d be at the training facility. Couldn’t imagine him daydreaming about her. She sighed and turned around.

“Jessica is loading the research into the program and the reports will be available before I take off. Anything else you need before we officially begin our winter break?” she asked.

“Just one thing,” Dr. Peterson said, drawing out a bag from under her desk. “A little something.”

Cory tilted her head. “I thought you said you didn’t believe in Christmas presents.”

“Don’t. Who says this is for any specific holiday?” Dr. Peterson held out a gift bag.

“Well, we won’t discuss the holiday theme on the bag. Hold on a sec. I found something in the bottom of my closet that had your name on it.” Cory went to her desk and lifted her own bag. She removed the wrapped present and returned to Dr. P’s office. “Merry non-holiday.”

Dr. Peterson shook the box. “What is it?”

“Just open it and you’ll find out.” Cory sat down and peeked inside the gift bag and spied a white envelope.

Dr. Peterson smirked. “Mine isn’t so simple. It comes with directions. I want you to open that when you’re rested. Back home. Kick up your heels and relax, then open it. Promise me.”

“Cross my heart. I will.” Cory drew an imaginary ‘X’ over her heart. “There’s no limits on mine. I want you to open it now so I can see your expression.”

Dr. Peterson nodded and began tearing off the wrapping paper. She opened the box and spread apart the tissue paper.

“Priceless!” She stood up and held the jersey up to shoulders. “How do I look?”

“Like you’re ready for game day.”

“Number 88. And look, Brett signed it. I’ll be ready now.” Dr. Peterson came over and hugged Cory.

“He asked that you know his jersey comes with a ticket to the big game.”

“Really?”

“Yep. He had a block of tickets and not everyone in my family can go, or rather deserves to go. He’s aware you really love the game.”

“I’ll call him and let him know how much I adore my non-holiday gift. Are you flying up to New York for this game?”

“Can’t. My mom’s test results are due in and the doctor will let us know if she’s officially out of the woods. There’s a support group of women going, and I just can’t miss it.”

~~~

Arriving home on Sunday morning, Cory made the rounds of visiting those family and friends who would not be present to watch the football game at the Double Diamond. Unable to attend the
division championship, Cory rounded up enough people to host their own shindig to celebrate Brett’s team making it this far. She walked into the packed bar and went straight to the table her brother had reserved. Stephen, Brandon, Rory, and Matt stood up as she approached.

“Looks to be a good game,” Matt said, reaching out his arms to her. She hugged them all and grabbed a seat between Stephen and Carolina.

“Baby news?” Cory asked Carolina.

“Um, we’re sleeping partway through the night.”

“And your mom? She didn’t want to come?” Cory asked.

“She’s enthralled with her grandchildren. Any excuse to get them alone. She said she’ll see you on Christmas and give you all her marriage advice.”

“I’ll welcome all she can spare. Looks to be good, considering who you’re married to.”

Carolina raised her glass of water. “Here. Here.”

Rory called out, “Hey sis, you drinking tonight?”

“Is that a challenge?” Cory asked. She’d had plenty of nights where she and Rory had come to the Diamond and she could hold her own.

Her twin could outshoot her in pool, but she owned the dartboard. She’d learned long ago which brother she could outdrink and outplay. So far, Stephen continued to beat her on every level. Brandon she could take on in cards because he got bored with anything that required him to sit. Matt hated the crowds that formed in darts. Miller was the only brother she could actually outdrink, simply because he only drank Scotch and any time she forced shots on him, she won on the technicality of his nonparticipation. At least that’s what she proclaimed.

“I’m not losing at darts tonight. So don’t even try giving me the evil eye.” Rory poured her a mug of beer. “Here. I’ll let you get warmed up and then we’ll start shots. Every time the Devils score?”

“You’re on, little brother.” Cory smiled over at him. Since middle school, Rory had left her in the dust as far as height was concerned. He was well over six-foot and she’d have to wear stilts to look him in the eye.

“Still sorry I’m older,” he said.

“But not wiser,” she retorted. She glanced around the bar, waved and smiled until she saw Ashley, then promptly averted her gaze. Turning back to the table, she grabbed a handful of peanuts. Gillian passed her the mug that Rory had poured. “I can sure use this,” Cory muttered.

Seated on the other side of Stephen, Gillian leaned around him to whisper, “Hey, anything going down regarding the summer?”

Cory shook her head at the thought of Mr. Bennett. So far, only Gillian actually knew how big a pest one billionaire could be. “No more deliveries or messages. I’m hoping he just gave up.”

Gillian grimaced. “Let’s cross our fingers. You know you’ve got options if not.”

Stomping feet and hooting and hollering commenced the moment the Devils were spotted coming onto the field. Cory waved her cowgirl hat. “He’s all mine!”

“To another McLemore romance,” Matt said, raising his hand. “Put it here.”

“I’m so proud of him,” she sang out and high-fived everyone at the table.

“You ought to be. Girl, look at him. Did he just mouth ‘Baby, I love you’?” Carolina asked, then elbowed her softly.

“Maybe.” Cory could feel her cheeks turn all shades of red. “I love you too,” she whispered back and picked up her mug of cold beer. “Everyone, raise your glass to my man, Brett Gold, number 88.”

Halftime came and Cory sat glued to her seat, cracking open peanut shell after peanut shell, and popping the nuts into her mouth.

“Hey, your phone is vibrating,” Stephen said, shaking her shoulder.

“Shoot,” she exhaled, reaching for her bag in a hurry. “It might be Brett.”

Her cell stopped vibrating. It wasn’t a missed call but a text message. She pressed her screen and scrunched up her brows, glimpsing down at the photograph of Brett between two women. The tag line read “hot chicks flank tight end.” She didn’t recognize the telephone number and pursed her lips.

Stephen leaned over. “What’s the problem?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, shutting off the screen and lowering her phone.

“Bull. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“More like nonsense. Should have changed my telephone number when I had the chance.” She pushed her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.

“Want one of us to screen your phone calls?” he asked.

She blew out a sigh. “I’m a big girl, and this is my problem. Thanks. I’d better learn how to deal with this stupidity. Time for a restroom break.”

“Me too,” Carolina said. “I’ve downed a gallon of water and need to hit the lady’s room.”

“I’m in.” Gillian pushed back as Stephen stood up, taking hold of his fiancée’s chair. All her brothers were standing as they started to leave the table. Stephen touched Gillian’s face, then bent his head and kissed his fiancée on the lips. Cory looked down at her engagement ring, twisted it back and forth, wishing she could see Brett so freaking soon.

Inside the restroom, Cory washed her hands standing next to Gillian at the sink.

“You sure everything is fine?” Gillian uncapped a tube of lip gloss and ran the wand over her lips as she met Cory’s eyes in the mirror.

“Yeah. Just a lot of work, and I’m tired.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Carolina said, drying her hands. “What the hell was that on your cellphone?”

“Huh?” She knew her sister-in-law might have seen the photograph.

A cloud of color suffused Carolina’s face. “Don’t you
huh
us, Cory McLemore. If we have to, we’ll let your brothers know someone is making your life impossible. Let me see that message.”

Cory rolled her eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“Hand. It. Over.” Carolina stood with her hands on her hips and Gillian joined her, blocking the bathroom door, brows drawn tight.

“You know all we have to do is tell those men out there, and this is going to start a ruckus," Gillian said.

“Don’t. They have more important things to do than chaperone me in life.”

“I disagree,” Gillian said.