The BFD (A Big Deal Romantic Comedy Book 1) Page 6
“He was?” I frowned. “What’d he say?”
She bent down underneath the counter looking for something as she filled me in, “He asked if I thought you’d go out with him and I told him only if it was genuine. I said he had to be committed. He sounded up for it until he said, and I quote, ‘I’ll make it worth her while and take her out in style. I’m the BFD. Why wouldn’t she want to go out with me?’”
“That sounds like a bad rap,” I commented.
Standing and holding a small teddy bear on a stick in her hand, she waved it around talking in a baby voice, “But I guess Daddy has plans for…” She looked at the name to go on the card, “Carson tonight.”
“Gross.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Pretty much. Okay, I’ve gotta make this and get it sent.”
I watched as she got to work creating a bouquet of miniature pink roses, bright, yellow daisies and baby’s breath. And don’t forget the teddy bear! Not finished wallowing in my bad day, I went to the bakery to get another muffin and latte refill then came back, once again curling up in the chair.
Thirty minutes later, I was bored with watching people, so I pulled my phone from my back pocket, seeing several notifications displayed on the screen before I unlocked it. All of them were from the ESPN app Roark had forced me to download because according to him, “Guys think chicks who like sports are cool,” and “Chicks who know stats are awesome.” I’d downloaded it to shut him up. Now, as I started to swipe them away, I noticed one with “Calder Castleman, The BFD” in the heading. Hm. Swiping it to the side and touching “View,” I pulled it up and read the article, which was about his stats and the year he’d had. When I got to the bottom, I kept scrolling down to read the comments from his admiring fans, and hoo boy, did he have some adoring fans.
jerry_fballman commented:
“The BFD is The BEST!”
Sondrabeautiful commented:
“I don’t care what his stats are. I just came here to say Castle is HOTT!”
honeygirl commented:
“I wanna have The BFD’s babies!”
susieQtee commented:
“I’ll show Castle some stats! And I’ll keep him up alllllll night long helping him make new ones ??”
Biguy214 commented:
“Hey, BFD! Let’s do some BF tonight! Meet me at Lou’s. I’ll be waiting”
Shesahornygrl commented:
“Castle, if you’re reading this, I want you to f**k me so hard, Daddy! Please call me. You already have my number from my last post, sexy ♥”
And on and on and on.
“Oh, lord, look at this.” I stood, going behind the counter to show Mara.
She read the first few. “Damn. People are nuts.”
“You think Shesahornygrl is who the flowers are for?” I asked.
“Doubt it.” She scrolled reading through several more comments then suddenly looking at me, she grinned.
“What?”
“You should comment.”
“Me? No! I’m not a fan like these crazies!” I looked at her for a second to see she was still smiling. Ah. Now I got it. “But I could, you know, since I’m a fan of the game and all, leave a comment.”
“Payback for earlier! Yes! I love it!”
My mind was filled with all kinds of thoughts about what to do when it came to me. “A meme.”
“Definitely.”
I started right away. It had to be good. It had to stand out. And it had to let him know that, BFD or not, I wasn’t as impressed with Calder Castleman as he was.
Chapter 7
“Let’s get lunch,” Jake, my agent and friend I’d talked about on the radio that morning suggested when I answered my phone.
“On my way home from the fieldhouse. Let me shower first and I’ll meet you in an hour. Where do you wanna eat?” I asked.
“Starving for a fuckin’ steak, so BLT’s. I’ll call and see if I can get a reservation for The BFD in the next hour.”
“The BFD at BLT’s. They should hire me to do commercials,” I said laughing.
“If it’d get us free steaks for a year, I’m all over that,” he answered back with a chuckle.
We hung up and I drove to my house in Wesley Heights which was only about four and a half miles from the White House and ridiculously extravagant. I’d paid upwards of seven figures for it, a little too excited about going pro and receiving a huge bonus, but it was amazing. When Carson, her husband Myles and my niece and nephew came to visit, along with our mom and dad, there was more than enough room. Of course, in a three-story, over-fourteen-thousand square house, it’d be tough not to have enough room. And Tinley loved playing hide-and-seek with me as well as going up and down the elevator. Yeah. I said elevator. Since the house had been built by some D.C. bigwig in the early 2000s, it had all kinds of perks including seven bedrooms and ten bathrooms, a weight room, sauna, swimming pool with a cabana, guest house, and, get this, a motherfucking ballroom on the third floor. I’d used it a few times when I’d invited the team over and we’d had dance offs, which of course, I’d won.
What? You didn’t think I could dance? Let me tell you, ladies, dancing is easy. All you gotta do is move your body like you’re having sex, throw in a couple sweet moves, and that title is yours. When I retire from football, DWTS is gonna be calling and I’ll win it too, just you watch.
Anyway, as I rounded the street corner, I pressed the remote to open the gate to my driveway, then went around to park outside the back door instead of inside the four-car garage since I’d be leaving soon. Inside, I went to my bedroom, stripped and jumped in the shower, dried off, dressed then went to meet Jack.
“Dude, looks like you fucked with the wrong woman,” Jake said, laughing so hard he fell off the couch.
Bastard.
We were back at my house and going over the details of my Nike contract when he’d pulled out his phone remembering that ESPN was featuring me in an article. He’d read it, nodding the entire time, so I knew it had to be good, but when he’d gotten to the comments, that’s when he’d lost it.
Snatching his phone from his hand—where he still lay on the floor snorting—with a frown I tried to see what was so funny but was clueless as to what I was supposed to be looking for.
“Look at the comments,” he said, still chuckling as he got up and came over to where I stood. He pointed at an image.
Leaning in closer, my eyes moved down to where his finger was I and saw a meme with my name on it.
Cupcake girl commented:
“That’s not even fucking right,” I said weakly.
Jake nodded in agreement. “I know. Those aren’t even your colors.” Howling with laughter, he luckily moved out of striking distance.
“Cupcake Girl. It’s got to be her,” I muttered. “Game fucking on, Rori Flannigan.”
“I need to speak with Rori Flannigan, please,” I said into my phone as I drove to her store.
I heard whispering in the background before the woman came back with, “Um, she’s not here right now. May I take a message?”
“Nope. No message.” I hung up as her store came into sight and after parallel parking, got out of my truck and walked toward her store.
Okay, so here was the game plan, which I thought was pretty brilliant. I’ll let you decide.
Good plan, huh? Yeah. I thought so.
As I approached, I saw her inside the flower shop, the bright blue sweater she was wearing standing out brightly. But upon opening the door, I saw her disappear into the back.
“Hi, Mr. Castleman,” an older version of the girl I’d talked to last time spoke to me from behind the counter. “How may I help you?”
“I need to talk to Rori.”
“She’s not here right now, but I’d be happy to take a message.”
“I know she’s here. I just saw her go to the back,” I replied. “Are you who I spoke with earlier?”
“Yes. I’m Mara Lewis, Rori’s best friend.” She held her hand out
for me to shake. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. Now, if you could have her come out here, I need to talk to her.”
Mara’s smile was big and she held up a finger letting me know to wait before she headed to the back. While I waited, the smell from the bakery was too much, so I strolled over to that side through the Dutch door and purchased a pumpkin spice muffin and cup of coffee. After receiving my order, I sat at one of the little tables making sure to be in full view of Rori if she came out from the back in the flower shop.
Twenty minutes later when I’d finished eating and Rori still hadn’t come out, I got up, threw away my trash and headed over to the flower shop again, where I heard whispered arguing coming from the back.
“He seems weird!” Rori whisper-hissed.
“But he’s hot!” I heard Mara say.
That’s my girl.
“He rapped on his phone call to you!”
I rapped? When did I rap?
“Tell him I ran away to Djibouti!”
“He won’t believe that.”
“Then Abu Dhabi!”
I heard Mara snort. “Rori. You haven’t been out since Noah.”
Noah? Who the fuck was Noah?
“It’s time to get out there. Hell, you can use this guy as a stepping stone until you find someone you like,” Mara finished.
Not so much my girl now. And wait just a damn minute here. Until she found someone she liked? What wasn’t there to like about me? Jesus.
“I’m scared. What if he’s a weirdo? You wrote the card to that bouquet today!”
Card? What card?
“Spankings, Mar! What if he’s really into some kinky stuff?”
I couldn’t help the snort I let out. She was talking about the card I’d put on the bouquet I sent to Tinley. Her fifth birthday was Saturday and I wanted to surprise her every day this week with something special. Tomorrow I was taking her to American Girl at Tysons Corner and letting her pick whatever doll and clothing for it she wanted. Yeah, I spoiled her, but what good was having money if you didn’t spend it on the ones you loved?
“Ladies?” I called and the arguing immediately stopped replaced by intermittent shushing. “I know you’re back there, Rori, so you can come out.”
Mara came in first followed by a sullen Rori, looking as if she were walking to the gallows.
“I don’t think you two were ever properly introduced, Mara said. “So, Rori Flannigan, this is Calder Castleman. Calder, meet Rori.” When Rori didn’t move, Mara gave me a contrite smile before stepping behind Rori and hands to her shoulders, bulldozed her closer to me.
“All right. All right!” Rori snapped, turning and swatting her friend’s hands off of her.
“So, I’ll leave you two to work things out,” Mara said. Giving Rori a thumbs up along with a look of encouragement before she disappeared into the back again.
There was an awkward silence before I broke it. “Nice meeting you, Rori. Again.”
“Nice to meet you too,” she returned quietly.
“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
She gave me a look then said, “Come on,” and led me through the door to the bakery. “Have a seat.” She nodded toward a table by the window and away from the other patrons that were seated.
I had a seat then watched her go behind the counter where she talked to a petite dark-haired girl while she poured two coffees. The girl looked out at me as they talked, clearly in protective mode as she checked me out. I couldn’t help the grin that snuck across my face and it got even bigger when she smiled back with what I thought was a nod of approval.
Rori caught our exchange, looked at me with a frown, turned back to the girl, still frowning, then seemed to be chewing her out. But I knew it wasn’t too serious because her employee smiled the whole time Rori griped.
So far, I appeared to have the blessings of two employees—one from the flower shop and one from the bakery—and her best friend, which usually sealed the deal. My game plan was now right on track—I’d take Rori to dinner tonight, she’d apologize, I’d graciously accept it, then we’d go back to my place where we’d have great sex, getting her out of my head once and for all, and depending on how amazing the sex was, I’d either keep her around for a little bit or cut her loose.
I saw that eye roll. Come on. You know you did the same thing when you weren’t ready to settle down, kept someone around just because, then let them go when you were ready to move on. Uh huh. Thought so. So you can go ahead and unroll those eyes any time now since you’re as guilty as I am.
I watched as Rori approached the table holding two cups, and she looked nervous as hell.
“I wasn’t sure what you took in your coffee, but there’s sugar, cream and different flavorings here on the table. Let me know if there’s something else you take,” she said, placing a coffee in front of me.
“I take it black, so I’m good,” I replied. I took a sip finding it was very good then going to nod at her in approval, I saw she hadn’t even sat down yet. “You wanna sit?” I asked.
“Oh.” She pulled her chair out and sat, still holding her coffee as if she was ready to dart off at any second.
Keeping my eyes on her, I totally checked her out again. She was a beautiful woman for sure, her sassy attitude just added more fun to the chase, that blue sweater, though, and I thought maybe she had ADD because she was shaking her leg rapidly as she sat there.
Confidence high and knowing this was a shoo-in, I cleared my throat, took a sip of coffee then asked, “So, dinner tonight?”
“No.”
“I thought we could go to, wait, what?”
“No.”
She’d declined both times, leg still bouncing and eyes anywhere but on me.
I gazed at her for a moment wondering what was going on in that pretty head of hers. “Is it because Noah hurt you?” I asked in what I thought was a soothing voice.
She whipped her head around to look at me, brows furrowed and fire in her eyes. Damn.
“Who told you about Noah? Was it Mara?” she snapped.
“I overheard you two when you were in the back,” I explained.
She let out a “Huh!” rolling her eyes and shaking her head in annoyance.
“Look. I think I’ve been pretty generous here, what with all you said about me this morning,” I reminded and saw her look upgrade to irritation. “But I’m willing to let bygones be bygones and I’d like to take you out.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah. Why?” She put her elbow on the table resting her chin on top of her fist in mock curiosity as she waited for my answer. I think she even batted her eyelashes a few times. Shit.
I can tell you right now, I never had to work so hard for a date in my life.
“I think you’re beautiful.”
“That’s superficial,” she declared.
“I like that you’re sassy.”
“You call it sassy, I call it ‘No.’”
“I think you’re cute when that little wrinkle between your eyes stands out when you’re mad.” I grinned as I rubbed between my eyebrows showing her what I meant.
“Oh, flatter the woman by mentioning her wrinkles. Nice.”
“You’re also pretty funny.”
She sighed and sat up straight. “Look. I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”
God. I had to chuckle at her lack of realization to the fact that her turning me down was turning me on.
“We can go anywhere you want,” I offered.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she murmured. Her eyes met mine. “Are you not listening?”
“Here’s what I know, Rori. You fucked up my flower order and I let it go. You defamed my character on live radio this morning. I let it go. You posted a fucking meme in the comments of that ESPN article. I let it go. Now you refuse to go to one dinner with me. I’m not letting it go.”
She pulled her head back, eyebrows raised, crossing her arms. “Yeah? And what’re yo
u gonna do about it? Tie me up and drag me to dinner with you?”
I nodded. “If that’s what it takes.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she spat.
“You’re gorgeous,” I retorted.
She stood now. “This is over.” She pointed at me. “And don’t think I don’t know who you are. You’re one of those ‘love the chase’ guys, and once you’ve got the girl, you get bored and dump her.” Her eyes blazed. “Maybe I’ll get back on those ESPN comments and tell everyone all about it. Better yet, I could call the radio station. Warn all the women in D.C. about you.”
I stood and laughed. “With everything else you’ve done, be glad I haven’t filed a lawsuit against you. Do that, and it’ll happen.”
“Do your worst, Castle,” she said snippily then turned and made her way to the counter. Looking back over her shoulder, she added, “And throw away your trash.”
I was still chuckling when I left, having thought up an awesome idea.
Chapter 8
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I said in disbelief, looking at the paper I’d been handed by a customer just five minutes before.
“What?” Michelle asked as she put on her coat, ready to go home, but came over to look at what I held in my hand.
“Seriously?” she said, looking at me in astonishment.
“Seriously,” I answered, just as shocked.
It’d been a week since my encounter with Calder Castleman, and I’d pretty much forgotten it all. This paper I’d been handed in a manila envelope by a customer—who was really a process server and had let me politely take his order then serve him!—brought every last part of it back.
“I’ll kick his ass!” I hissed. “Go home,” I told Michelle. “Donny? You’re in charge,” I told my employee then made my way toward the flower shop. “Mara!” I called as I went through the door.
She was on the phone, typing information into the computer then held a finger up as I approached. “Okay. Yes, I can do that. Thank you.” She hung up then turning to look at me, gasped, “What’s wrong?”