Unforgettable (Cloverleigh Farms #5)(68)

Slowly, I sank into the chair again. “I’m listening.”

But instead of telling me more about the house, he went in the other direction. “Tyler fucking Shaw. I can’t believe it. You probably get asked this a lot, but what the hell happened? I was in that documentary they made about you, did you see me? I was the guy in the barber shop. The one that said the thing about the tight underwear.” He laughed as if he’d made a great joke. “People loved that line. I hear it all the time.”

That’s why he looked familiar.

I stood up again, put both hands on his desk, and leaned forward. “Yeah, well I didn’t.”

He looked slightly alarmed. “Hey, take it easy. I was just making a joke.”

I cracked my knuckles. “That was my fucking career you were joking about, asshole.”

The room, which had been humming with quiet conversation, quieted. Heads turned in my direction.

Bob held up his palms. “Look, I’m sorry. It seemed funny at the time.”

“I’m sure it did.” And then, because I knew someone probably already had a phone camera aimed at me, I resisted the urge to knock over the chair I’d been sitting in before storming out of the office.

Back in my car, I made the mistake of checking my text messages. I had one from Sadie that said, Have you seen this? WTF is wrong with people? She included a link to the Bethany Bloomstar story, which I clicked on, because I was already having a shitty day.

I watched the entire thing, growing more furious every minute. How dare these assholes take video of April and me! How dare they drag her family’s name and business into this! How dare they suggest I’d flown off the handle because of an autograph request rather than a rude invasion of privacy! I was plenty familiar with the way gossip “journalism” worked, so it shouldn’t have surprised me, but somehow it did.

And the last thing April needed was someone prying into her personal life—or her past.

It was all my fault.

Spewing curses, I drove back to the hotel, figuring I’d just go up to my room and hole up before the game and cool my temper. But there was a fucking photographer waiting for me in the lobby, and as soon as I started for the elevators, he was following me, snapping away. Every instinct in my body was to take the guy’s camera and smash it on the marble floor, but I managed to hold back, and lucky for him the elevator doors opened quickly. When he attempted to follow me and one other female guest in, I shoved him back. “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

The doors closed, and I turned to the woman, who had a hand over her chest and a terrified look on her face. “Sorry,” I muttered.

She didn’t say anything, but she got out on the first floor she could.

Back in my room, I fell forward onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow. Since I’d hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, the sheets hadn’t been changed and the pillowcase smelled faintly of April’s perfume. I breathed it in and tried to relax. My body grew heavy. My head grew foggy.

The next thing I knew, I was lying on my back watching television. The remote was in my hand, so it had to have been me who’d turned it on, but I had no memory of it. Even stranger, I was watching that damn documentary, but instead of the usual talking heads, it was April and her sisters discussing me. At least, I assumed they were her sisters. They all looked almost exactly like her and every single one of them had her red hair, even Frannie—whose hair, I knew, was not that color at all.

But I recognized the names that flashed on the screen as they spoke.

SYLVIA: He was never good enough for her. Not then, and especially not now.

MEG: I mean, even if she forgave him for abandoning her when she was pregnant with his child, I can’t.

CHLOE: I can’t get over the way he fooled everyone into believing he was something he isn’t. You just can’t trust a guy like that.

FRANNIE: I really thought he would change, you know? I thought he really cared about her.

SYLVIA: A guy like that only cares about himself. He’d make a terrible husband and father.

MEG: Oh, totally. I can’t even believe they’re letting him coach those kids. Especially now that we know about his secret dark side.

CHLOE: Which doesn’t surprise me at all.

FRANNIE: I’m so sad for April. I wish he’d never come back.

Then my own sister Sadie appeared, but even she had April’s red hair. And she was wearing my Central High School jersey.

SADIE: Growing up, I thought the sun rose and set on Tyler. He was my hero. Now I don’t know who he is.

I woke up with a sudden jerk of my head, soaked in sweat. When I looked around, I discovered I was still lying exactly as I had been when I’d flopped onto the bed—on my stomach, face down, arms and legs splayed like a starfish. The room was light, but the television was off.

It was just a dream, I realized, rolling onto my back and throwing an arm over my forehead. Jesus. I needed to get a grip. What the hell was wrong with me today?

I lay there for a few more minutes, then decided I needed food. I picked up the phone and ordered room service, and while I waited for it, I scrolled through some real estate listings on my phone.

But I wasn’t in the right mood, so I ended up tossing my phone aside and watching a stupid car chase movie. Might have been a mistake because I felt even more amped up and pissed off than I did before I watched it. I did manage to take another nap—dream-free this time—before I had to go over to the field, but even that didn’t take the edge off.