“She’s said she’d disinherit me, if I didn’t stop seeing Dax,” I said, summarizing my mother’s phone call as succinctly as possible. I was angry at my mother’s response, but I had been hurt by Dax’s dismissive comment about my understanding of how to run a football team, and I didn’t know how to explain this to Val.
“Okay, but Joanna is a bitch, and we’ve known that for a long time,” Val said. “What’s really bothering you, Payton.”
“Oh, so it’s Payton now, is it?” I countered, trying to keep the discussion about Dax and me at bay. “I’m just mad that my mother told me to do one thing and then when I did it, she got pissed that I did.”
“C’mon, PG, you know you went looking for that one,” Val chided. “You wanted to bait your mother, so this faux outrage isn’t really holding water with me.”
“Fine, whatever,” I said, feeling frustrated with Val, too. She was supposed to have my back! “If you want to side with her, then just do it.”
“Oh my God, stop the dramatics, Payton,” Val said in a tone that made my heart sink. “I’m always on your side and you know that. I’m just saying that I think there’s something else going on, but if you won’t tell me, then I have to assume that you’re overreacting to Joanna’s brand of bitchiness.”
“Val, I think I like him,” I blurted.
“Like who? The blue-collar, football billionaire?” Val laughed. “I thought he was just a means to an end and the possibility of a job.”
“He was—is,” I said, correcting myself quickly. “It’s just that there’s something about him that’s familiar, and he’s…”
“He’s hot as hell,” Val finished. “Please tell me that you’re taking full advantage of the sex clause you put in that contract.”
“I…yeah, well, I did,” I said, blushing on the other end of the phone. I’d talked about everything under the sun with Val, but I’d never had feelings like this about a guy and I’d never been in a situation quite like this with a guy I had feelings about. It felt weird talking to her about it.
“And was it good?” she asked.
“Uh huh,” I replied, uncertain how to tell her how I felt about it all.
“Then what’s the problem?” Val asked. “It would seem to me that you’ve got a hot, rich dude at your beck and call. That seems pretty ideal to me.”
“Oh, he’s not at my beck and call,” I said shuddering a bit as I thought about how Dax would react if he heard her say that about him. “He’s kind of bossy, and he’s definitely trying to show me he’s in charge. I mean, he’s said some things that made me really mad.”
“Is that so?” Val said knowingly. “What exactly did he say that made you mad, PG?”
“He told me I knew nothing about running a football team!” I shouted, feeling the anger and humiliation rising in my chest again. “He talked down to me, Val.”
“But you don’t know anything about running a football team,” Val pointed out.
“Not you, too,” I grumbled. “I know I don’t, but he didn’t need to treat me like a little girl. I know things that he doesn’t know, and it made me feel like…”
“Like when you have to listen to Joanna boss you around,” Val finished. “PG, he’s not your mother. He’s a guy who’s trying to run a team that he’s paid a lot of money for. Have you stopped and thought about everything he’s up against?”
“Don’t take his side!” I bellowed defensively. “You’re my best friend!”
“I’m not taking any sides,” she said gently. “I’m telling you that there are times when your pride and ego work you into a corner, and that this might just be one of those times. So, back down and take a look at what’s really going on. Are you mad at him because he’s doing something wrong or are you mad at him because he’s the closest person for you to take your frustrations out on?”
“Why do you always do this to me?” I asked.
“Because I’m your best friend and I love you to the moon and back,” she said plainly. “Think about it, PG. This guy might actually be a good guy. You should brush that chip off your shoulder and give him a chance. Oh shit, I gotta run! I’m sorry, but Richard’s family is coming for dinner and I’ve got to talk to the stylist about my gown! I love you, PG!”
“I love you, too, Val,” I said as the line went dead. I sat and thought about what she’d said and when I realized she might have a point, I slammed my fist against the leather seat and
muttered, “Dammit.”
“Are you okay, miss?” the driver asked glancing in the rearview mirror with a concerned look.
“I’m fine,” I nodded. After a few seconds, I added, “Thank you for asking.”
The driver nodded and turned his eyes back to the road.
#