I wish I had the guts to say something like that...but I don’t. I’m intimidated by this woman, and Luke didn’t train me on how to handle rabid fans or whoever this is. I’m a big girl, though. I can handle this.
“We’ve known each other a while but the timing was never right.” I lift a shoulder. “And then it was, and we grabbed our chance.”
“Luke said he would never get married again. How did you manage to tie him down?”
My brows dip, and I finally open the door. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”
Luke is standing just down the hallway, and his eyes move toward the two of us.
When he spots the woman beside me, his eyes widen and then he looks just plain angry.
I look over at the woman again, and she flashes me a smirk as we reach Luke.
“Savannah,” he says, and the word comes out with venom.
My heart races as I finally realize who she is.
The ex-wife.
After all the research I did, you’d think I would’ve come across her picture somewhere to recognize her, but Luke did a good job keeping his past hidden. I’ve been so busy learning about wide receivers that I haven’t had time to really get into Luke’s personal history.
But this is the reporter.
She was digging at me for a story back there in the bathroom.
What a bitch.
“Luke,” she says back, entirely too sweetly.
“It’s my extreme displeasure to introduce you to my ex-wife, Savannah Buck,” he says to me.
“Maybe in a few months when this is all over, we can start an ex-wives club,” she says, circling her finger between Luke and me.
“Get the fuck outta here,” Luke mutters, and it’s clear they did not part amicably. “Why’d you print that lie the other day?”
She raises a perfectly manicured brow. “The lie? Excuse me, Mr. Dalton, but I only tell the truth.”
He laughs, a hearty and fake laugh filled with malice that I’ve never heard from him before. “You print whatever’s convenient for you that also manages to fuck with my reputation.”
Savannah’s hand flies to her chest in an act like she’s deeply offended. She makes a noise of disbelief, but I don’t buy her act for a second. Neither does Luke.
“So if you only print the truth, where’s your proof that Michelle is really carrying my child?”
“Big difference in what you’re asking there, Captain.” Her eyes twinkle like she’s enjoying this banter, but Luke looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel in his forehead.
“What, you mean a story versus a story with evidence?” he shoots back, and it’s clear he’s flustered by this entire conversation while she maintains her cool, and I fucking hate her in that moment. I hate what she’s doing to Luke. I hate that she’s getting under his skin. I hate that she can stand there and do that to him with such calm confidence.
“You didn’t ask for evidence. You asked why I printed a lie, and I didn’t. A woman came to me with her claims, and nowhere in the article does it say that there’s evidence she’s carrying your child. That’s why we use words like alleged. I know it’s hard for your overly concussed brain to grasp, so I’ll break it down for you. Lady said she’s knocked up with your kid and you’re marrying some side chick you’ve known four seconds.”
“Oh fuck you, Savannah,” he spits, rolling his eyes. “Come on, Ellie. Let’s go home.”
She holds up her hands innocently. “Bye bye,” she says, and then she winks at Luke as she starts to walk away. “Looking forward to your check, my sweet benefactor.” She tosses that final line over her shoulder.
Luke exhales heavily as we head toward the exit. “So that’s another reason I didn’t want to come tonight, you know, just in case you were wondering.”
“Why did she call you her benefactor?” It’s a stupid question but apparently the only thing I can think of to say.
“Alimony, although not as much as she’d like and certainly not as much as I’d have to pay if we’d have gotten married now versus seven years ago.”
“How long were you married?”
“About a year. I was young and stupid and thought she was hot. Hot does not equal marriage material.”
Sage advice indeed. It would probably do me well to remember that.
“Why didn’t you contact her boss and demand a retraction?” I ask.
“It’s sensationalism. It’s unethical, but it’s not illegal. She prints her little stories at the expense of accuracy, and unless there’s libel or slander involved, it’s not illegal.”
“Isn’t it libel if that baby Michelle is carrying isn’t yours?”
He lifts a shoulder and twists his lips a little wistfully. “There’s more to it than that. They’re both backing me into a corner, and I don’t have a choice but to sit back and take it.”
The car is waiting for us when we get out front, and it feels very much like the end of that conversation as we slide into the back of the car...but I want to know why he doesn’t feel like he has a choice.
We’re well on our way back to Luke’s place, silence blanketing us as he seems like he’s deep in thought while I’m not sure what my role is. Should I try to distract him? Let him think it out? Talk? I go with lighthearted small talk. “Did you have fun?”
He shrugs and glances over at me. “As much fun as I always do at these things. Capping the night with my ex-wife wasn’t the ideal way to end it.”
“Then let’s pretend that didn’t happen. We can find our own way to cap the night.” I wink at him. “At least you had a hot date.” Okay, maybe I’m a tad tipsy after all the wine.
He chuckles and moves his gaze to the window. “That I did,” he says, and it’s under his breath so I almost miss it.
But I don’t, and I think back to when he called me Sexy Ellie when he thought I was asleep.
“So tomorrow I’ll look into what it takes to start a charity and how to make it happen,” I say, mostly to change the subject and a little because I don’t think he realizes I heard what he just said. But honestly...I don’t even have a clue as to where to start my research. I don’t even know what I don’t know.
“I can put you in touch with the charitable contributions department at the Aces to see if they have any guidance,” he says almost as if he’s reading my mind.
“That would be amazing,” I gush.
“Erin’s great,” he says. “She helped Brandon get his charity off the ground.”
“What’s his charity?” I ask.
“Fostering Fletch. He raises money that goes to help foster kids,” he says. “He can be kind of a douchebag when it comes to women, but deep down he’s a pretty good guy.”
We pull into Luke’s neighborhood.
“How did my brother end up across the street from you?” I ask.
He chuckles. “I had the receivers over one night for beer and poker, and he saw the sign in the yard across the street. We got to talking, laughed about how fun it would be, and he made a lowball offer the next day. They accepted, and the rest is history.”