I don’t normally blush, but there is definitely a temperature influx happening on my face. “I . . . uh . . .” Noah shows his phone to me. On it is my Twitter feed. Instantly, the heating of the cheeks I thought I might have felt moments ago is back with a vengeance.
“I,” I pause because I don’t have a decent excuse as to why I started sending tweets to Autumn. When I glance at Noah, it’s clear he’s waiting for me to start talking. I sigh heavily and say, “This all started a few nights after I saw her in the park. I’m lying in bed one night, and I hear her voice on the television, so I sort of watch her segment, while I’m scrolling through my Twitter feed, and I happen upon a tweet she reshared from Marchetti. I clicked on her profile and accidentally hit follow.”
“And you can’t unfollow after that?” Noah interjects.
I shake my head slowly. “Nope. I do what any guy who has nothing to lose would do: I start tweeting her about her segment, and man, I’m a fool because I have no idea what I’m saying, but she reshares each one and sends laughing or smiling emojis back.”
“Sounds like you’ve made a connection.”
This time I eye him. “I’m pretty sure she hates me and is just saving face on social media.”
“Why do you think this?”
It takes me a moment to respond. I’m not proud of what I’m about to say, but if he’s asking, maybe that means Autumn hasn’t complained to him or Peyton. “Because when I first met her, I called her weather girl. I know she’s insulted by it, but I haven’t stopped because I’m an idiot.”
“Yeah, you are.” Noah sighs and then starts laughing. “If you weren’t going through everything you are, I’d suggest you talk to Autumn. You might find that you like her.”
“I do like her,” I tell him. “That’s the problem. I’ve made such an ass out of myself over the past few weeks, I’ll be lucky if she gives me the time of day. If I were her, I’d hate me.”
“Autumn doesn’t strike me as the type of person to hate anyone.” Noah pauses for a moment and then says, “What about Elena?”
I grimace at the mention of her name. “We haven’t spoken much since my trip to L.A. and when she randomly showed up at the game, but it’s clear she’s moved on. I have it on my to-do list to call the lawyer and get the paperwork finalized. We’ll end up fighting over the kids and alimony, which she’s not entitled to, so it’ll come down to child support. We both want full custody, but I feel like her real motivation is to get more money. The whole thing is very uncomfortable.”
“I can imagine.”
I chuckle at his statement. “No, you can’t. You and Peyton are perfect. You’re like the spec model for marriages.”
Noah doesn’t say anything in return but does crack a smile as he steps up to his ball. He swings through, and that stupid white plastic thing lands right on the green and rolls toward the pin.
“I give up.” I hang my head and walk toward the cart, all while my best friend is laughing behind me.
Noah and I finish our round of golf and head back to our training facility where I make the mistake of going inside to grab a few things from my locker.
“Julius, I’m so happy I’ve caught you. I was about to email you,” Maggie, the general manager’s secretary, says.
“What’s up?” Maggie is one of those people you either love to run into or dread. Sometimes, she’s the bearer of bad news, and you never know what she’s going to say.
“Autumn LaRosa emailed. Your date has been set.”
Part of me is excited by the word date, but the other half of me is dreading what’s coming my way. “And when is it?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
Maggie nods. “There was a little back and forth about your schedule, but tomorrow seems to work.”
“And what if I have plans?” I ask.
“Change them. I’ll forward Ms. LaRosa’s contact information but expect to meet her outside her apartment in the morning.”
“I don’t even know where she lives,” I state.
“It’ll be in the email,” she says as she walks off.
I stand there, speechless and groaning on the inside. I’m equal parts pissed because I don’t have a say and excited because I like a woman who takes charge of a situation. However, I’m leery because Autumn could make me do anything she wants and there isn’t shit I can say or do about it. I’m at her mercy. The only thing I’m sure of is I won’t have to mow someone’s lawn or pick up anyone’s leaves—unless she has decided to farm my services out.