Delayed Call, Page 3

  Before she could mutter anything in response, Johansson asked, “Who writes these questions? Surely you’re not this dumb?”

  And with that, he walked away. Her eyes widened more as she looked to the camera. She sucked in a deep breath, her cheeks reddening with color. “I’m Brie Soledad, wishing you a wonderful night.”

  And she prayed to God the fans of the Assassins had one, because she knew from that moment on, she wouldn’t.

  After waking up with the headache of all headaches, Brie decided that the half of a bottle of vodka she drank the previous night wasn’t her smartest move. She had no choice, though. She had to forget that interview, the ass-chewing she received from Russell, and then the phone call from Elli Adler. Apparently, according to Russell, it was her job to control Vaughn Jo-FuckFace, while Elli Adler apologized for Vaughn’s blowup and promised it wouldn’t happen again. It made her feel a little better, but at the same time, she just couldn’t stand that dude. He was such a prick. Yes, the questions sucked, she agreed, but where was his professionalism? Was he raised in a barn?

  Goodness!

  Pinching the bridge of her nose, Brie closed her eyes as the eerie silence of the exam room made her want to scream. Rod sat beside her, playing on his phone as she had a mini panic attack. She wasn’t worried she would lose her job, Elli Adler had promised she would not only speak with Russell but Jo-FuckFace too, but she hated looking ill-prepared on camera. It was hard enough being a woman in an all-male sport, where male reporters got ahead because women apparently didn’t know shit about a man’s sport. It didn’t matter that she grew up in the rink, that she loved hockey and knew everything about it. That she went to the best journalism school, Syracuse, where she was top of her class and was almost always the lead anchor for their channel. She covered all the sports because people loved to listen to her talk. And she wasn’t a dumb blonde like he made her out to be. She was amazing, damn it!

  Vaughn Jo-FuckFace wasn’t going to ruin her.

  “Hey, Brie. I need to talk to you.”

  She exhaled loudly before looking to her baby brother. Like her, he had bright blue eyes that sparkled so sweetly. His light blond hair was shaggy, into his eyes, though she begged him to cut it. His face was round and full of life, and boy, did she love him. So damn much. “Yes, Rodney.”

  “Rod. I’m a man.”

  “Yes, of course, Rod. What’s up?”

  “I want to talk to you about moving.”

  She groaned, letting her head fall back. He hated the assisted living place she had him in, but she couldn’t afford anything else. Yes, that was her fault, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She made great money, but she was still paying off all her mother’s debts and her hospital bills. She had been concerned about having enough money to cover the new rent she was about to owe. But with the building Elli Adler had just bought for her players, she insisted Brie take the discounted rent too. Really, she’d be stupid not to. She was paying one-quarter the actual rent of the apartment she was about to live in. And she prayed, she prayed so hard, that maybe Rod would get well enough to move in with her. Or that she hit the lottery and could hire private care.

  Either would be great.

  “Rod, we’ve discussed this. I can’t afford it, and you need the extra help.”

  He held his hands up, much larger than her own, as he nodded exaggeratedly. “I know, but this place… I can get a sponsorship. At least, that’s what the guy said.”

  Her face scrunched up. “What guy?”

  “The guy who came to visit me at my home. He was cool.”

  “When? Who?”

  “I don’t know. His name is Nate Way, and his place is called NateWay. He said he can get me a sponsorship to live there. It’s like my own house. I need this, B. I need to get out of the old folks’ place and with my kind of people. I’m dying in there—”

  Suddenly, the door opened, and the doctor walked in. Thankfully, because Brie needed to do research on this NateWay place since she hadn’t heard a thing about it. She also needed to call and talk to the director of the home because who was this dude coming in and seeing her brother? Wasn’t there a privacy law? What the hell? Annoyed, she looked to her brother and nodded. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “When?”

  “Later.”

  He threw his hands to his thighs in frustration as he whined, “Brie—”

  “Rod, I promise, later,” she stressed before looking back to the doctor. “Hey, Dr. Miller.”

  “Hello, Brie. Rod, how ya feeling, buddy?”

  Rod was upset. It was visible as he mumbled, “Fine.”

  “What’s wrong?” Dr. Miller asked as he listened to Rod’s breathing and then his heart.

  “My sister doesn’t listen to me.”

  “I do listen, Rod, I promise. I’ll look into it.”

  “I have a pamphlet!” he almost yelled before digging it out of his pocket and handing it to Brie. She took it, but she knew in her heart it wouldn’t work out. She had looked into those private neighborhoods for Down syndrome adults, and none of them ever had a sponsorship. She hadn’t even heard of this one, and she swore she was going to kill the person who planted this seed in her brother’s brain.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking it and looking at the front of it as Dr. Miller continued his exam. It was a colorful ad, something designed to catch the eye of someone like Rod. It looked great too, just like the others. Little, individual houses, and it even had nurses on site. It would be perfect for Rod. He’d love it, especially since it was only three minutes down the road from her new apartment. But she assumed the living cost was way out of her budget.

  She folded it up, her heart sinking because she knew he would ask more about this, and there was no way she would be able to afford it. As she went to tuck it into her purse, she noticed a handwritten number and the name Nate. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she wouldn’t be finding out. She wasn’t sure if what Rod said was true. He sometimes didn’t listen all the way, only heard what he wanted. She wouldn’t call, asking for something that wasn’t offered. She just couldn’t.

  “So, we have a problem,” Dr. Miller said, stealing her attention. She looked up, her eyes widening as she held his gaze. “The echocardiogram didn’t show what we wanted, unfortunately.”

  “It didn’t?” she struggled to ask.

  “No, the electrical conductivity isn’t working properly, so we’ll need to put a pacemaker in.”

  Her heart dropped once more. “Another surgery?”

  “Regrettably, yes.”

  Rod groaned beside her. He had already had two of them in his adult life, and they weren’t something he bounced back from quickly. Plus, they stressed Brie out to the extreme.

  “When?”

  “Soon, probably before the new year, and he’ll be down for about a month.”

  Rod groaned once more as Brie slowly shook her head. “How long will he be in the hospital?”

  “A week.”

  She closed her eyes as Rod complained beside her. “But you said we could go to Harry Potter World after New Year’s.”

  She nodded as she met his gaze. “I know, bub, but I don’t think we’ll make it this time.”

  As her brother’s shoulders dropped and his little bottom lip popped out, failure washed over Brie once more. She was starting to think that was the only emotion she would ever feel, and that alone gave her no good outlook on the new year.

  But then, that was the theme of her life.

  Bad luck.

  “Dude! Tricksie ate my shoes!”

  Tricksie’s ears perked up as Vaughn looked over to his best friend who was coming out of the back bedroom, holding said pair of shoes that were obviously mangled to hell. While his girl was a good three years old, they had found she had a bit of a chewing issue. “They were ugly anyway. She was helping you out.”

  Jensen glared. “I love these shoes. She needs to be locked up when we leave.”

/>   Vaughn’s brows touched as he shook his head. “No, you need to put your shit up before you leave. You know she has anxiety. She came from a ditch, Jenny. She had nothing, she lost her leg, she is emotional, and she misses us when we’re gone.”

  With an incredulous look, Jensen held his gaze. “Are you guilt-tripping me? When your dog is the one that ate my three-hundred-dollar sneakers?”

  Vaughn balked. “Who spends that much on shoes? You freak.”

  “You do, loser! You have the same pair.”

  Vaughn shrugged as Tricksie barked loudly, her little tail wagging. Other than her chewing issue, she was an awesome dog. Sweet as all get-out and amazing. She loved everyone she met, and even the cold, heartless Wren Lemiere loved his baby. Easy to say, Tricksie did no wrong, and it was Jensen’s fault she chewed his shoes. “Whatever. She said she was sorry, and she would try to do better.”

  Jensen glared. “She can’t talk.”

  She barked once more, growling a bit. “She said she’s a human, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner she’ll stop chewing your shoes.”

  “I hate you. I hate you so much,” Jensen muttered as he threw his shoes in the trash and then fell back on the couch. Tricksie went right for him, cuddling against him. Of course, Jensen couldn’t resist, and he hugged the puppy. She was cute, so Vaughn didn’t blame him. “This dog is so spoiled.”

  “So? She’s a princess. Aren’t you, sweet girl? Daddy’s princess.”

  Jensen’s face scrunched up. “It’s unhealthy, the love you have for this dog.”

  “What? No, it’s not.”

  “You sleep with her.”

  “So?”

  “You hold her paw when you sleep.”

  Vaughn shrugged, not the least bit offended. “I do that for her. She needs that contact.”

  Rolling his eyes, Jensen shook his head. “No, you need that connection. I pray you don’t do more.”

  “Do more?”

  “Take your relationship to another level,” he said with a laugh, and Vaughn wrinkled his nose.

  “You freak! She’s my baby, and who thinks like that? Oh, yeah, dirty French Canadians from the backwoods of Canada, like you.”

  “Fuck off,” he growled, cuddling Tricksie.

  “You fuck off, and don’t cuddle my dog after you accused us of nastiness.”

  He reached for his dog, and Jensen laughed as Vaughn tucked her into his lap. “I was fucking with ya.”

  “That’s what they all say,” he accused, and Jensen continued to laugh.

  “Whatever. What are we doing for dinner?”

  “Isn’t it your night to cook?”

  “It is, so where do you wanna go?”

  Vaughn laughed. “You could just cook.”

  “I don’t cook like you, Bobby Flay wannabe. And you talk shit about everything I cook.”

  “I do not. The noodles and sauce you made the other day were great.”

  Jensen shot him a dull look. “It was spaghetti.”

  Vaughn shrugged. “No, it was noodles and Prego. I make spaghetti, with slow-cooked sauce that was passed down from my great-grandma, pasta I made from scratch, and cheese I grated myself.”

  He was pretty sure Jensen would hit him. “Anyway…I’m not cooking. I’m taking you out, so where do you wanna go?”

  “Pathetic.”

  “I really need my own place.”

  Vaughn scoffed. “You’d be lost without me.”

  “I would,” Jensen laughed. “But happier with my noodles and Prego.” That made Vaughn laugh as Tricksie started to lick Jensen’s skin off. “Why does she do this?”

  “She loves you. Another reason you can’t leave. You’re her second daddy, the wife of our relationship.”

  “Why do you always make us gay?”

  Vaughn laughed hard. “I don’t!”

  “You do. I’m always the wife too. Why can’t I be the husband? I’m way stronger than you.”

  Still laughing, Vaughn shook his head. “You are not stronger, and you’re so much more emotional. You cried over This is Us the other day.”

  Jensen’s eyes widened. “Dude, you cried!”

  “In my room. No one knew.”

  “I knew!”

  “You’re no one. Shut up,” he teased, and Jensen rolled his eyes. They were always at each other’s throats, which wasn’t new. They knew each other better than anyone else, well, except Wells. He knew them too, but they were like brothers who set out to annoy the shit out of each other. “I want BBQ.”

  Jensen gave him a look. “But I wanted hot chicken.”

  Vaughn rolled his eyes. He made the biggest mistake introducing this guy to hot chicken. It was all Jensen ever wanted, and eating it that often did not agree with Vaughn at all, despite his love for it. “So we’ll go to Hattie B’s. We can get both.”

  He nodded. “Cool. Sounds good. When you wanna leave?”

  “An hour? I wanna finish this game,” he said, shooting his opponent on Xbox as Tricksie came back over and cuddled in his lap, her head under his. Kissing the top of her head, he continued to dominate in the game as Jensen watched.

  “When’s Wells coming to town? Or do we go to him first?”

  Vaughn nodded as he threw his controller on the table since someone shot him, which, in turn, killed him dead. Looking over to Jensen as he took a swig of his water, he said, “I think we go there, and I think we gotta meet the new boyfriend.”

  Jensen made a face. “New? What happened to that one guy?”

  Picking his controller back up, Vaughn shrugged. “No damn clue, something about not wanting to move forward?”

  “Move forward?”

  “He’s in the closet, apparently.”

  “Closet?”

  “Yeah, no one knows.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, though, we know.”

  “I can’t remember his name to save my ass.”

  “Matty Haverbrooke. Remember? The commissioner’s kid, not that we can ever say that to anyone, according to our very gay and very out best friend,” he said, really unsure how Jensen had forgotten that. It was sort of crazy when Wells introduced Matty to Jensen and Vaughn because no one even suspected that the commissioner’s son, also a hockey player, was gay. And apparently, he wanted no one to know. Which was why Wells broke it off with him. Their best friend wanted the happily ever after. Completely unlike his sister, who wouldn’t piss on a guy if he was on fire.

  Cold one, that Wren was.

  “Crazy. So, new guy?” Jensen asked, and Vaughn nodded.

  “Some dude named Alex. He doesn’t play.”

  “Oh,” he said with a nod. “I don’t want to meet him.”

  Vaughn laughed. “Because you hate people.”

  “I do.”

  Grinning, Vaughn threw down his controller once more and cuddled his dog, kissing her as she licked him to death. “He loves you, Tricksie baby, we both do.”

  “Eh, the jury is out. One more pair of shoes, and I might take another leg.”

  “All lies, my love, all lies.”

  Rolling his eyes, Jensen leaned back against the couch, looking over at Vaughn. “If Wells is doing all that, shouldn’t we?”

  Vaughn gave him a wry look. “Are you making a pass at me?”

  “Dude, I hate you.”

  Vaughn laughed as he shrugged. “What? You asked if we should do the same!”

  “I mean find women. We do nothing but sit in this apartment, eat food, and play video games.”

  Vaughn held his gaze. “I don’t understand. That seems like the perfect life for me.”

  Jensen groaned, rolling his eyes before getting up and heading to the kitchen.

  Vaughn hollered after him, “Hey, no one says you have to stay home with me.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll go out and meet someone. I don’t even like talking to you.”

  Vaughn scoffed. “You like talking to Wren. You two were all talking and being sweet when she came to pick up Tricks
ie the other day.”

  He glared. “Wren is different.”

  “Because you looooovvvveee her,” he teased, and Jensen held his gaze.

  “Do you know you act like a ten-year-old?”

  “Thank you, I like feeling young,” he said before sticking his tongue out for good measure. “But whatever, I’m amazing. And you’re a pussy for not pursuing Wren.”

  “She wouldn’t have me if I did. She doesn’t like guys.”

  “You think she’s gay too?”

  “No, she just doesn’t have time for it,” he said sadly, and Vaughn rolled his eyes. He didn’t understand Jensen’s obsession with their best friend’s sister, but it was borderline disgusting. The girl wanted nothing but friendship from both of them. Vaughn got it; why didn’t Jensen? Why did he want more with someone who wanted nothing to do with the male gender?

  “And that’s the reason you won’t go out, because you’re hung up on her. Some silly high school crush.”

  Jensen flicked him off. “Fuck you.”

  “Love you too, smooches,” he teased just as his phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket as Tricksie barked happily to his ring tone, he saw it was his boss, Elli Adler. “Shit, it’s boss lady.” Jensen’s brow rose as Vaughn hit answer. “Hey, boss, how’s it going?”

  “Hey, Vaughn, how are you?”

  “Just fine, hanging out with my pup and Jensen.”

  “Sounds like a lazy evening.”

  “It is,” he agreed with a smile. “To what do I owe this friendly call? Are you inviting me to dinner because you can cook and I love your food?”

  She laughed. “You know my house is always open, but that’s not why I’m calling.”

  Her laughter dropped, and he knew something else was up. He had a great relationship with Elli and her husband, Shea. Shea was the one who convinced Vaughn to come play for the Assassins. They were good people, and he loved the family atmosphere of the Assassins. Shea and Elli were the heart of the team, and because of that, he had gotten close to them. So he knew right off that something was up.

  “Oh?”

  “Yup,” she said softly, clearing her throat. “Listen, I hate getting on to you guys, but y’all are my team, my family, and the way you handled that interview with Brie Soledad was unacceptable.”