Not Another Bad Date (6 page)

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Authors: Rachel Gibson

BOOK: Not Another Bad Date
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“Adele Harris. I thought that was you.”

Adele turned and looked into a pair of blue eyes that would have been on the same level as hers if she hadn’t been wearing three-inch heels. “Cletus Sawyer?”

“Yeah. How are you?”

“Good.” She gave him a quick hug, then stepped back to look at him. In school, Cletus had been a geeky nerd and they’d belonged to the same drama club. In
The Tempest,
she’d been Ariel, and he’d played Prospero. He’d been skinny and buck toothed, but he’d filled out some and gotten his teeth fixed. He was still fair-skinned with red hair, but he’d matured into a handsome guy. Not as handsome as the man standing directly behind him, sucking up the attention of every female in the gym. But there really weren’t many men who were better-looking than Zach Zemaitis.

“It’s good to see you,” she said through a smile. “What have you been up to?”

“Just livin’. I teach math here at Sterlin’ Park.”

A
math teacher
. Zach looked over the math teacher’s head at Adele. Surely she didn’t see anything remotely attractive in a guy with a pocket protector.
“What have you been up to?” the math teacher asked.

Zach would like to know that himself.

“I write science-fiction and fantasy novels.”

“Wow. Are you published?”

“Yes. I have ten books published, just turned in my eleventh and am about ready to start my twelfth.” She glanced up past the teacher’s red hair, and her gaze met Zach’s. He wasn’t all that surprised that she wrote fantasy novels. She’d been interested in fairies and druids and other weird shit when he’d known her. He was also not all that surprised that she was a published author. She’d been one of the smartest girls he’d known.

“Do you publish under your own name?”

Her beautiful blue eyes looked into his for several more seconds before she returned her gaze to the teacher. “Yes.”

“Hey, Zach,” LaDonna Simms called out as she walked toward him. LaDonna had been a good friend of Devon’s and was a member of the Junior League.

“Hey, LaDonna.” She stopped in front of him, and he looked past her big blond hair and returned his attention to Adele. He’d noticed her the second he’d stepped into the gym. Noticed her butt inside her tight jeans. Not only had she been smart, she’d always had a nice butt. Still did.

“Did you get your invitation to the Night of a Million Stars benefit?” LaDonna asked.

“Yeah I did, but I don’t have anyone involved in the Junior League these days.” Just like last year and the year before.

“Oh well.” LaDonna leaned closer and put her hand on his arm. “We all loved Devon so much, we consider you part of the League family. Unofficially of course.”

“Of course.” As LaDonna rambled on, Zach tuned her out and listened to the conversation a few feet away. It was much more interesting than pretending interest in the Junior League. Eavesdropping was rude. His momma had always told him so, but he didn’t particularly give a damn.

“You sure look good,” the math teacher said, and Zach could practically hear him drool.

“Thank you, Cletus. I jog five miles a day.”

“I work out sometimes,” the nerd said, which Zach figured was pretty much bullshit. “We should get together and catch up.”

Adele hesitated, and Zach thought she was going to turn him down. Instead, she pushed her heavy hair behind one shoulder and smiled. “I’d like that, Cletus.” She gave him her phone number and the little guy programed it into his cell.

“Can I have everyone’s attention,” Tiffany called out as she stepped up onto her chair. “We’d like to thank y’all for coming out this afternoon and trying out for the Stallionettes. But there are only two available spots.” She looked down at her notes. “It was a really hard decision, but we’d like to welcome Lisa Ray Durke and Kendra Morgan to join the team.”

Applause and a few shouts of joy accompanied the announcement. Several other girls burst into tears and fell on each other crying. Zach watched Adele’s smile reach her eyes as she turned her gaze from the math teacher and toward her niece.

“Oh, shoot.” LaDonna dropped her hand. “Roseanna didn’t make it,” she said referring to her daughter. “She’s just devastated and crying her little eyes out. Excuse me.”

Evidently, Roseanna was one of the girls carrying on. Zach didn’t understand why girls had to get so emotional about everything and why they had to get all emotional in public. Not making a dance team wasn’t like losing state or a bowl game, for God’s sake. Now that was damn traumatic.

“Hey, Daddy.”

Zach dragged his attention from Adele and her niece to his daughter. “Are you ready to go?”

“Just a sec. I have to talk to Kendra and Lisa Ray first.”

“Don’t take all night,” he said, and shoved his hat back on his head. He sat on the edge of the judging table as the gym began to clear out. He figured he’d waited about five minutes before Tiffany, Kendra, and Adele moved toward him.

“Congratulations, Kendra,” he said, and rose to his full height. “I guess this means we’ll be seeing you at the house practicing some more.”

“Oh, yeah,” Tiffany answered for the other girl. As the four of them headed across the gym, she added, “Kendra has to learn the dances really quickly. Our next competition is in a few weeks.”

“I’ll be ready,” Kendra assured her.

The heels of Adele’s shoes tapped across the hardwood floor, the sound of a pair of sexy shoes filling his head with ideas.

“I’m having a barbecue this Sunday for all the girls,” Tiffany announced. “You have to come, Kendra. It’ll be fun.”

Kendra looked across her shoulder at Adele. “Can I?”

“We’ll talk to your mom, but I don’t know why not.”

Zach opened the door for the two girls, and as Adele passed, he heard himself say, “You should come, too.” He hadn’t meant to invite her. Wasn’t even sure it was a good idea. No, strike that. He was sure. It wasn’t a good idea.

She paused, the curls resting on her shoulder a few inches from his chest. Her eyes looked into his. “I don’t think so.”

He should be relieved. For some reason he wasn’t. “Are you afraid?”

“Of?”

She looked good and smelled better, and he answered, “Of about a dozen thirteen-year-old girls runnin’ around screamin’ and gigglin’ and blastin’ shitty music.”

She almost smiled as she shook her head and stepped outside. “I’m busy.”

“With the redhead?” He followed, and the door shut behind him. If he didn’t know himself better, he’d think he sounded jealous. Which was ridiculous. Even if he had an interest in pursuing something with Adele, which he didn’t, he wasn’t jealous of a redheaded math teacher.

“Maybe.” She dug around in her purse and pulled out a set of keys. “Catching up with Cletus will be nice. After the week I’ve had, I’m ready for a good time.”

“Good time?” He reached for the brim of his hat, slid it back, then settled it in the same place. “Impossible.”

She stopped and looked up at him. “Not that I really care, but why?”

“He’ll bruise like a peach.”

“I’m going to talk to him.” She frowned and shook her head. “Not punch him.”

Clearly they were talking about two different kinds of “good times.”

“Hey, Z,” the middle-school football coach called out as he approached. “That was some game last weekend. Shame about Don.”

Adele looked up at Zach and into the shadow his hat created.
Z.
That’s what everyone had called him at UT. Hearing it brought back a flood of memories. Memories of his smile and laughter. Of the touch of his hand in the small of her back.

“How’s the boy doing?” the middle-school coach asked.

“I just talked to his doctors up in Lubbock this morning. He’s doin’ good.”

Adele took a step back. “Excuse me,” she said as she walked around Zach and headed toward the parking lot. She thought of the double-z tattoo circling his upper arm. The last time she’d seen it, they’d been naked, and she’d been running her hands and mouth all over his hard body.

“Adele,” he called to her.

A cool breeze blew a few strands of hair across her face as she looked back over her shoulder.

“See ya around.”

She didn’t answer, just kept on moving. Obviously, she was going to run into Zach now that Kendra would be spending so much time with Tiffany. She would be polite, but that was it. She didn’t feel anything for him anymore. She didn’t love him, but she wasn’t interested in reliving memories. She didn’t hate him, but she wasn’t interested in being friends.

She and Kendra made the short drive to the hospital in just about ten minutes and showed Sherilyn the tryout video. Afterward, they drove through McDonald’s, and Adele had a salad while Kendra pigged out on a Quarter Pounder with cheese, fries, and a Coke. When they got back to the condo, Kendra did her homework while Adele did laundry.

Over the next few days, Adele’s life settled a bit and fell into a pattern. She woke every morning, took Kendra to school, then jogged her five miles. She visited her sister in the hospital and listened to the latest updates on Sherilyn’s and the baby’s progress. Sherilyn would add to the to-do list, and Adele would run around town whittling it down the best she could. At around noon, she’d return home to work on the opening of her next book, a futuristic set in an alternate universe. During her breaks in writing, she caught up with her friends in Boise via e-mail. She’d met the three other writers years ago when they’d all attended the same librarian conference. The things they’d had in common—deadlines, writers’ block, and bad relationships—had made them fast friends. And even though Adele was the only one suffering from bad relationships these days, they were still great friends. Once Sherilyn had her baby, and everything was fine, Adele could not wait to go home and catch up in person.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Adele was ready for a break. Cletus Sawyer had called during the week to say he’d pick her up for dinner at seven. Kendra had been asked to babysit the five-year-old in the condo next door, and in case of an emergency, Adele programed her phone number into Kendra’s cell.

An hour before Cletus picked Adele up, she threw on a long-sleeved red dress and shiny red pumps she pulled from Sherilyn’s closet. She didn’t bother with nice underwear, not that she’d packed her nice stuff anyway. Even if the date went really well, and she discovered an overwhelming attraction to Cletus, she had to be home when Kendra got home at eleven.

Over appetizers, Cletus told Adele about his divorce and his two-year-old daughter. He asked questions about her life and seemed genuinely interested. They laughed about things that had happened to them in school, but by the time Cletus paid the check, Adele knew nothing was going to happen with him. Ever. He was really nice, but she had absolutely no desire to get naked and freaky with him, which was kind of sad because the date was going surprisingly well. So well that she was beginning to wonder if the curse was broken.

At around ten he drove her back to the condo and walked her to the door.

“When can I see you again?” he asked.

She wouldn’t mind having Cletus for a friend. “I don’t know.” She dug her keys out of her clutch purse. “I’m really busy with my sister, and I don’t have a lot of free time. Call me though, and maybe we can get together for coffee.”

“Oh. You’re one of those.”

One of those?

“You think you’re too good for me. You think because I teach math that I’m not any fun. You think I’ll be pacified with a little coffee date.”

“Cletus, my sister’s in the hospital, and I have to take care of my niece,” she said through a sigh. “I just don’t have a lot of time for real dates.”

“Sure you don’t. I bet if I had a lot of money, you’d find the time. If I’d been one of the popular guys in school, you’d be dying to date me.”

Adele looked at him, and she couldn’t get angry. It wasn’t his fault he’d turned into a jerk. It was hers. She was still cursed.

O
ne hundred fifty miles west of Cedar Creek, Zach was beginning to wonder if he was cursed, too. Cursed with a defense that hesitated on the snap and couldn’t get past a determined offensive line to rush the quarterback.
Within the guest locker room of the Grande Communications Stadium in Midland, he and his assistant coaches stood surrounded by the rattle of Tylenol bottles, the rip of athletic tape, the smell of grass, sweat, and frustration. In the first half of the game against Midland, the Cougars were behind by fourteen points.

Zach folded his arms across his dark green Cougar’s Football jacket while the defensive coach, Joe Brunner, drew a diagram of the zone blitz on a marker board. “We spent all goddamn week reviewing the Bulldogs’ tapes,” Joe said as he drew x’s and o’s on the board. “We knew goin’ into this game that they play their zone better than any team we’ve been up against this year. Their goddamn quarterback is just sittin’ back in the pocket lobbing balls to the soft spot, and you guys aren’t goddamn rushin’ him.” Joe drew dashes and arrows from the linebackers through the o’s as he continued.

Zach liked Joe. He respected his knowledge and devotion and his gut instinct. Joe had played cornerback for Cedar Creek and later for Virginia Tech in the nineties. No one loved football more than Joe Brunner, but he had a problem that held him back from ever being a head coach. He cracked under pressure. Right in half like someone split him with an ax, and out came a spitting, whirling devil. It was every coach’s job to get their boys to pull their heads out of their asses and turn games around, but that was hard to do if the fifty-three players in front of you were trying not to laugh.

Zach stood with the offensive coach to one side and watched to make sure Joe didn’t crack. They interjected when necessary and were relieved that only two veins popped out on Joe’s forehead. For most of Zach’s life, he’d been a quarterback, not a coach, but he’d played ball for some of the best coaches and some of the worst. He’d led teams to championships, and he knew the difference between being stern and going off on a tirade. He knew that players would leave their blood on the field for someone they respected and who respected them. A good coach inspired that kind of respect.

When Joe was finished, Zach stepped in front of the marker board. “Y’all know what you gotta do,” he said. “You go out there and make those Midland boys sorry that they showed up today.” He pointed to the defensive ends. “If you get blocked, I better hear it from where I’m standin’, and I don’t want to see you getting stopped by any more of those pussy finesse blocks. You get around those boys and run upfield like someone lit your ass on fire. You go after that quarterback and
force
him to get rid of that ball before he’s ready.” He pushed his ball cap to the back of his head and gathered the team around him. “The first half of this game is history, gentlemen. There isn’t anything we can do about it now. Let’s put it behind us.

“Last week when we lost Don, everyone started saying we were done. But I don’t believe that. One player does not make a team great. It’s what’s in each player’s heart and gut that makes a team great. It’s your job to go out there and show you have the guts and heart to turn this game around. I know you can do it. Tonight’s battle is not over. We’re not finished. We’re only down by fourteen, let’s go show ’em y’all are winners.”

He looked them all in the face. “So let’s hear it together: hearts, guts, glory.”

“Hearts, guts, glory!” the team shouted as they butted helmets.

“Now get out there and kick some Bulldog ass!”

Zach and the other coaches followed behind the team, the sound of cleats on concrete bouncing off the tunnel walls. The Cougars broke onto the field running as the Cedar Creek band played the school fight song. The players butted chests and helmets and fists, and in the second half, the defense finally broke through the Midland offensive line and rushed their quarterback. The Cougars closed the gap in the score and in the last few seconds of the game kicked a thirty-seven-yard field goal to win by three points.

As Zach filed off the field with his boys, he thought about the mistakes made in the first half. Next Friday night’s game was against Amarillo in Lubbock, and the Sandies had one of the toughest defenses of any team they’d played so far. If the Cougars played like they had against Midland, they’d get their asses handed to them and their run for the state championship would be over.

After the game, more than a dozen buses waited outside the stadium to be filled with players, cheerleaders, band and drill-team members, sponsors, and Cedar Creek students. Zach had driven his Escalade to Midland, preferring the comfort and speed of his Cadillac to that of a bus.

Usually, Tiffany went to the games, but not if it meant traveling.

He made it home in two and a half hours and fell into bed at 1:00 A.M. There was never practice on Sundays, and he planned to take advantage of it and sleep. Tiffany had other plans.

“Daddy,” she said, shaking his shoulder.

He cracked his eyes open. “What time is it?”

“Nine.”

“This had better be an emergency.”

“It is. We need to get stuff for my party.”

“What party?”

“My dance-team party. It’s today. Did you forget?”

For a few blissful hours he had forgotten that his house would be invaded by a dozen screaming thirteen-year-olds. “Christ on a crutch,” he groaned.

“Don’t swear,” his thirteen-year-old said, sounding a lot like his mother.

“Sorry.”

“Get up. We gotta get some burgers and stuff ’cause I wanna barbecue outside. You
said
we could, remember?”

“Don’t you girls just want to sit around and quietly watch the tube?”

“Daddy, you’re so funny.” Tiffany laughed. “I turned the heat up in the pool and told the girls to bring their swimsuits, if they wanted. I figured we could drag those big heater things out of the guesthouse and set them up on the lower terrace. Or maybe we can push everything out of the entertainment room and set up some tables so we can eat in there after we swim. What do you think, Daddy?”

Zach turned on his stomach and pulled a pillow over his head. “Just shoot me now.”

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