5. Greer
CHAPTER 5
GREER
I stretched out on the chaise lounge, taking in the late May sunset from my penthouse. I'd spent the biggest part of the day with the legal staff negotiating player contracts. We had to consider the NFL salary cap while the coaching staff and my GM assessed our needs before heading into the season.
Even as I tried to unwind, tension still sizzled through my body. Trying to relax out here was not helping. Normally I would change and hit the treadmill, but I knew if I ran this late in the day, I'd be up all night. This time of year always fucked with my training, and the next Iron Man Competition was only a couple of months away, depending on which one I entered.
I'd started working out heavily when I was forty-four to relieve some stress and keep my mind off topics I really didn't want to think about. No one, not even Carter, knew why I'd started competing in triathlons fourteen years ago, and I had no plans to share it now. It was my secret, and it gave me a little peace of mind. Not to mention it kept me looking younger than my fifty-eight years, which was a good thing. That and LED light therapy were magic.
My team, the Portland Pirates, had really come together over the last seven years and outperformed most of the league. Drafting Alex Hayes twelve years ago had been the best decision we'd ever made. He was calm under pressure and, without a doubt, our franchise quarterback. We were entering the last year of his contract, and it was part of the reason for my tension. As much as I wanted him to continue playing, I knew he wanted to spend time with his husband and children.
I couldn't blame him for wanting that.
But I worried about what it was going to mean to lose both him and Patrick Griffin. They weren't players you could easily replace with a rookie. We'd been extremely fortunate to get Patrick as a linebacker when Jackson Kincaid retired. That caliber of player didn't come around often. They were unforgettable and left a lasting impression. Just like the man I couldn't seem to stop thinking about. Somehow, when I was alone, my thoughts always ended up back on him.
It had been eight days since Austin had stormed out of my office. Thinking about how passionately he'd put me in my place made me smile. I deserved it. I wasn't intimidating, or an asshole. Most people really liked me. But not him, and I couldn't blame him.
Jesse had informed me he'd reluctantly agreed to the job after some coaxing. I'd happily take irritated Austin over indifferent Austin any day. I didn't see him very often even though he'd moved to Portland two years ago. But when I did, the pain was real.
I was more relieved than I would admit that he'd left the Navy. Every time things heated up in the world, I made a point to call Carter to ask about him. My best friend assumed I was asking about his younger brother out of obligation, but he couldn't be more wrong.
Austin Wentworth and I had a history and, judging by the way he continued to scowl at me, I knew he'd never let go of the grudge he held onto like a life preserver. He'd never accept my apology, or even give me the time of day to explain why I'd reacted the way I did. I hoped getting him alone would give me a chance to explain, and hope he'd forgive me. All I could do was try, but I wasn't holding my breath.
When my stomach rumbled and the hunger pains descended, I got up and headed back inside to see if my housekeeper had left me anything for dinner. I had a craving for her Chicken Piccata with capers.
Pulling open my subzero refrigerator in my rarely used kitchen, I looked around behind the protein drinks, cottage cheese, and bottled water. My heart sank when the only thing ready to eat was deli meat and cheese. I'd told her I'd be working late and would grab dinner when I left the office. So I had no one to blame but myself.
I closed the door and looked down at my clothes. Still dressed in my casual designer wear from the office, I decided on dinner out. Stella's food sounded like a good option, but I didn't want to dine by myself. It was awkward among the couples to be the only one dining alone, so I took out my phone and called my regular dinner companion, Dr. Eliana Sanchez.
The phone rang twice before she picked it up.
"Hello there. How are you?"
I smiled at her familiar voice. "Hungry. How about you? Have you had dinner?"
"No. I was just trying to decide what to fix."
"How about tabling that thought and joining me for dinner? I have a craving for Chicken Piccata."
"Mmm," she hummed. "That sounds delicious. Bernardo's?"
"You're reading my mind. Want me to pick you up?"
"No, I better drive. I'm on call tonight, but the charge nurse in the ER said things were slow. If I drive, they won't need me. As soon as you pick me up, they'll call."
"That a doctor's superstition thing, right?"
"Something like that."
"Okay, I'm leaving now. See you in twenty?"
"Sounds perfect. Thanks for the invite, Greer. I really didn't want to eat alone."
I understood that sentiment all too well. "My pleasure."
Ending the call, I returned my phone to my pocket and picked up my keys. Bernardo's was only a ten-minute drive, and I'd be there in no time.
Fifteen minutes later, I pulled open the door to my favorite restaurant in Portland. Bernardo's was owned by Preston James. Even though he'd moved to San Diego with his new husband, Nick, the restaurant remained open under his friend Stella's care. She was a fabulous chef, and I could see why he trusted leaving his baby with her.
"Good evening, Mr. Rowan. How many are in your party tonight?" the hostess asked.
"Two, please. She should be here soon."
The girl smiled. "Wonderful. If you'll follow me, I'll get you seated."
I followed along as I looked around the restaurant. Before I sat down, my phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to find a text.
Eliana: I've been jinxed. I have to go in!
I nodded to myself before I replied.
Me: I understand. Next time.
Eliana: Talk soon.
With a sigh, I pocketed my phone. It would appear I was destined to dine alone.
"Good evening, Mr. Rowan."
I looked up into the brown eyes of my usual server. "Hello, Ryan. How are you?"
He smiled. "Fine, sir. What can I get you and your companion to drink?"
"It's only going to be me tonight, after all. But I'll have the Chardonnay."
"Very good, sir. I'll be right back."
"Thank you," I replied.
When he'd walked away, I glanced around at the patrons dining in pairs, or small groups. A feeling of melancholy washed over me until I recognized the broad shoulders of the man sitting at the bar. It was the part of his body I saw the most, since he spent most of his time walking away from me.
As if he could feel my stare, he turned and looked around until he found me. It wasn't long before the scowl I enjoyed appeared. I motioned toward the empty chair at my table before he could turn away.
My breathing picked up as I watched the man, twenty-two years my junior, as his chest rose and fell with a deep breath. If I were a betting man, I'd wager his beautiful eyes were filling with fire right this minute.
Glass in hand, he rose from the stool and slowly stalked toward me. I'd played that night so long ago completely wrong, and I'd had fourteen years to figure out why he brought out these feelings in me. Sabrina and I had been divorced for a long time, but I hadn't met anyone I wanted that type of commitment with again.
I stood from my chair and held out my hand. He looked at me quizzically, then extended his own to shake. His warm, firm grip sent a familiar tingle up my spine.
"Greer," he gritted out.
"Hello, Austin. Would you like to join me for dinner? We have a lot to discuss."
He huffed out a breath of annoyance.
My lips tipped up in a knowing smile. "It doesn't have to be social. Let's call it a business dinner to prepare for our trip."
Austin took another deep breath and relented once again. "Fine," he said, letting go and taking the empty seat.
Nodding, I sat down as his fiery eyes met mine. Behind that scowl and furrowed brow were the eyes of a man who was ready to put me in my place again.
When Ryan returned with my wine, he glanced at Austin. "Would you like your dinner to be served here, sir?"
"Yes, please. Thank you."
Ryan nodded and looked at me. "Have you decided, sir?"
"Yes. Chicken Piccata, please."
"Excellent choice, Mr. Rowan."
I watched as he turned and retreated to the kitchen, leaving us alone. I picked up my wine and took a sip. A hint of green apple and oak hit my tongue, making me moan at the tart aromatic blend.
"Only you would make a production out of drinking a glass of wine."
I smiled. "Not a production. More of a sincere appreciation."
Austin huffed and took a sip of what looked to be scotch. His eyes stayed on me as we assessed each other. I nodded toward the crystal highball glass in his hand.
"That seems awfully strong to have with dinner."
His eyes narrowed as his jaw tightened. "When you've served overseas and seen the things I have, then you can judge my beverage of choice."
I raised my brows, then sobered at the truth in his statement. Carter had kept me up to date on him when he was in the service. Everyone knew a situation would be bad if a SEAL team were sent in. And I'd kept up with every single one since his first deployment.
The very night I'd fucked everything up.
I met his beautiful green eyes and immediately wanted to explain. "You're right. I apologize. I can't imagine how difficult your job had to be."
His expression softened as we stared at one another. Austin Wentworth was no longer the twenty-two-year-old I remembered. He was a man who had lived and seen the world from a different perspective. All I could think was, would things have been different between us if I'd kept my promise?
"Nothing for you to be sorry for Greer."
He continued to study me, and I wanted to ask what he meant. Because I was sorry. For so many things.
Austin tore his gaze from mine and focused on his glass as he reclined in the seat, swirling the amber liquid.
"If I could go back to that night," I said before he cut me off with a hard scowl.
"No. Do not bring up the past."
I sighed and rubbed my fingers over my stubbled jaw. "Then how do we get past it?"
"Nothing ever happened."
His words cut me deeper than I expected them to. I wanted—no, needed—to make things up to him. I just hoped he'd give me a chance at some point. But since he refused to discuss it, I relented for now and changed the subject.
"Let's talk about this week. I'm also going to need to train while I'm there. It's not safe to be out without protection." I might have been lying there a bit. The only protection I really needed was from the monkeys and my sister.
"Train for what?" His eyes roamed over my face, then down my neck to my chest.
"Triathlon."
Austin's eyes narrowed, but he didn't comment. So I kept going.
"It's also entirely possible I need you to run interference between me and my meddling sister. She's invited some single ladies for me to socialize with in hopes I might find someone."
He shook his head. "But she knows who I am, Greer. I'm not the person for this. Dreamboat is who you need. He's a natural-born flirt. Flirts with everything and everyone."
I chuckled as he described his other best friend. Brent Trainor was a character.
"I agree he is. But I don't need him. I need you."
Austin released a deep breath. "What if I don't want the job? There's too much bad history between us. It will never work. I can't look at you like a significant other."
"You did once."
He looked away from me, clearly irritated. "I was a twenty-two-year-old fool."
No, I was the fool.
I curled my lips in before picking up my wineglass. Taking a healthy sip, I put it down and looked over at him. "We're going to have to find a way to put our past behind us. They'll never believe we're together if you show this level of animosity toward me, Austin. It will make things uncomfortable for everyone around us, and they won't understand."
He seemed to consider my words as his eyes held me in place. When he didn't respond, I sat forward and shifted in my seat. "You must have had to work with someone you didn't like before, right?"
Austin continued to assess me. "What makes you think I don't like you? Maybe this is just the way I am now."
I shook my head. "I don't think so. I've seen you with your friends. The intense hostility you have appears to only be toward me. But if you'd let me explain..."
Before I could say anymore, Ryan arrived with our food, and placed it on the table in front of us. I felt his eyes on me as I unfolded my napkin and placed it in my lap.
"Did you really put my name on the RSVP?"
An effortless smile took over my face as I cut into the tender chicken. "I did, but didn't exactly specify who you were to me. I just don't want to go through everything I know she has planned. And she'll recognize your name."
I glanced up to find Austin staring at me, but I couldn't read his expression. "I'd assume she would since you dated my sister. And my brother was your best friend."
"Is," I replied. " Is my best friend. And that was a favor over a hundred years ago for my best friend when we were in college."
He huffed out a breath. "Whatever." He paused for a moment, then looked up at me. "Anyone might think you had a thing for the Wentworth siblings. Except for me, of course."
The scowl was different this time, and when he looked down at his food, I felt some hope for the first time in a long while. There were so many things I wanted to say; to tell him he was wrong. But now was not the time, especially when we had an audience.
"You couldn't be any more wrong," I whispered, cutting into my chicken.
I was determined to prove it to him in Costa Rica.