Daddy's Perfect Game: A Single Dad Baseball Fauxmance, page 6
A subtle smile plays on his lips as he spots me, and he pushes himself off the lamppost to greet me. Despite the role he's playing, there's a confidence in his demeanor that's hard to ignore. It's clear that he's embracing the part, and it makes me wonder how genuine our act might become over the course of the evening.
As he approaches, my heart races a bit. I remind myself that this is all for show, but the sight of him in that well-tailored suit is undeniably captivating. Tonight, we have to sell the idea that we're a couple, and the way he carries himself suggests that he's more than willing to play the part.
So, I clear my throat to compose myself, while still feeling a mixture of nervousness and anticipation.
“Are you ready for this?” I ask, hoping he's as committed to our performance as I am.
Austin flashes a confident grin and nods. “Absolutely. Let's do this.”
Taking a deep breath, I lead the way. We step into the restaurant, ready to face the night ahead and navigate the challenges of our fake relationship. As we enter the private room, I take a deep breath, preparing to introduce Austin to my family. My heart is pounding, and I remind myself to keep up the act.
This is just a performance, I tell myself.
“Everyone, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend Austin,” I announce, my voice steady.
My parents exchange surprised glances, while Polly gives me an encouraging smile. John is the first to speak, extending his hand to Austin. “Nice to meet you, Austin. I'm John, Avery's future brother-in-law.”
Austin shakes John’s hand with a friendly smile, his charm on full display. “Likewise, John. Avery has told me so much about you.”
Polly, my sister, comes forward next, her eyes curious. “I'm Polly, the bride-to-be. It's great to finally meet you, Austin.”
Austin takes her hand and responds with warmth, “Congratulations, Polly. I've heard wonderful things about you.”
Then, it's my parents' turn. Mom, her green eyes filled with skepticism, eyes Austin up and down before offering a polite but somewhat distant greeting. “I'm Avery's mother. Nice to meet you.”
Dad, on the other hand, extends his hand with a warm smile. “I'm Avery's father, and it's a pleasure to have you here, Austin.”
As we take our seats at the table, I can sense the curiosity in the air. They're all eager to get to know Austin, and I can only hope that our act will be convincing enough to quell any suspicions. This charade is going to be quite the challenge.
I look around the room as the waiter glides over, offering flutes of bubbly champagne to each guest. The soft clinks of the glasses echo through the room, mingling with the excited chatter of the gathered family. As the effervescent liquid fills the glasses, I notice Austin accepting his with ease. I follow suit. I listen intently as my father rises from his seat, tapping the side of his glass for attention.
“May I have your attention, please?” His voice, deep and resonant, draws the room's focus. “To Polly and John,” he begins, a wide smile on his face, “may your days be filled with joy, your love grow stronger with each passing moment, and your future together be blessed with happiness.”
The room echoes with a chorus of “Cheers!” as everyone raises their glasses in unison, celebrating the engaged couple. After taking a sip, I turn toward my mother, adjusting my posture slightly as she leans in, her eyes filled with curiosity and warmth.
“So, darling,” she says, a knowing smile on her lips, “how did you and Austin meet?”
I offer a slight grin, feeling a little caught off guard by the directness of her question.
“It's a bit of a story, Mom,” I reply, sipping my champagne and contemplating how to present our faux relationship without revealing too much.
I glance at Austin, realizing that amid the whirlwind of preparations and fake relationship scenarios, we never aligned our origin story. His eyes meet mine briefly, and there's a moment of unspoken communication that conveys the same concern. Can we keep our story straight when prompted?
I take a moment, trying to maintain composure; and with a subtle nod in his direction, I signal to follow my lead when the time comes.
“Well…you see,” I begin, making up the story as I go. “I remember that day so clearly. Yeah…I was at the bookstore, looking for the new Eleanor Sterling…”
Just as I'm painting the scene, Austin jumps in.
“Ah, yes, then I crossed home plate and saw her there, across the baseball field," he interjects, catching the attention of our guests. “Avery was watching my game, and the next thing I know, we're chatting and the rest, as they say, is history!”
What? I think, confused. How could he possibly come up with such a contradicting story?
I want to shake my head but I force myself to remain composed. I shoot him a startled glance, trying to maintain the facade while silently urging him to play along. The confusion among our family and friends is palpable as they try to reconcile the mismatched narratives.
I quickly recover from the surprise, attempting to steer the conversation back on course.
“Actually,” I interject, “it was both. We first met at the bookstore and later reconnected at the baseball game. The sparks flew when we discovered our shared passion for…literature.”
I actually have no clue if he likes books like I do, I think, but this will have to do.
I glance at Austin, hoping he's on the same page now, and together we manage to smooth out the inconsistency in our story. My family nods in understanding, and the tension in the room eases as they accept our version of events. It's a close call, but we've managed to keep our cover intact, for now.
As the evening progresses, I find myself in dire need of a moment's reprieve. Excusing myself politely, I head toward the ladies' room, taking a deep breath as I step inside. The ambient sounds of laughter and chatter from the dining room gradually fade behind the closed door.
After refreshing myself and composing my thoughts, I straighten my attire, take a steadying breath, and push open the door. Then, I freeze. Based on what I see, I have only one thought.
No. Way.
My steps falter, my breath hitches, and my heart sinks at the unexpected sight that awaits me. There in the hallway is Bill, my ex, engaged in an affectionate embrace with a striking blonde woman.
My mind spins, grappling with a rush of emotions, from surprise to dismay. I fight the urge to confront him, feeling a mix of shock and frustration. Their affectionate display freezes me momentarily, my blood running cold at the unexpected encounter. I retreat swiftly, seeking solace in the quiet of my thoughts, trying to process the scene I've stumbled upon.
Our eyes lock in a tense moment as I attempt to make a quick escape.
Crap, I think, I have to get out of here.
However, Bill has other plans and strides purposefully toward me. With a deep breath, I brace myself for the confrontation.
“Avery,” he says, his voice a mix of surprise and curiosity, “I can't believe it's you. How have you been?”
The blonde behind him stares at us with her mouth agape.
Don’t worry lady, I think, he’s all yours.
I take a moment to compose myself before responding, my words measured and controlled. "I've been well, Bill. And you?"
Bill hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering with a hint of regret. “I've had my ups and downs,” he admits. Then, he gives me a smirk and a wink that makes my stomach turn. “I’m moving on, though,” he says, jabbing a thumb toward the woman behind him, who now stood with her arms crossed.
“That’s…great…” I stammer.
I try to move past him, but then, Bill unexpectedly takes a turn for the worse. Bill's frustration becomes increasingly evident. He clenches his fists and his voice takes on a sharper edge.
“How can you just act like you’re fine?” he blurts out, slightly too loud for the crowded, calm restaurant. “Do you have any idea what you put me through?” he asks, his tone growing hostile. “You just disappeared, and I had to pick up the pieces. You owe me an explanation.”
I shift uncomfortably, feeling the tension in the air. The blonde behind him is now shocked and shifting from foot to foot.
Clearly, I think, she wasn’t expecting this outcome.
“Bill, we both know our relationship had its problems. I needed to move on,” I say.
Bill's face darkens as he takes a step closer, his anger intensifying. “Move on?” he repeats. “Ha! You were probably moved on much before me!”
This makes the blonde woman shake her head and retreat. I glance around, aware of the curious onlookers nearby. “Bill, let's not make a scene here. I’m at a family event, and I don't want any trouble.”
He leans in, his voice low and menacing. “You should watch your back, Avery. You don't know what I'm capable of.”
Feeling a chill run down my spine, I decide it's best to disengage. “I'm not interested in causing any more pain, Bill. Please, just let it go.”
“Is there a problem here?”
I turn to find Austin standing in the hallway, his concerned expression indicating that he is here to protect. His sudden appearance takes me by surprise.
“Who do you think you are, buddy?” Bill asks, jabbing Austin in the chest.
Uh oh, I think, wrong move.
“I’m her…boyfriend.” Austin says.
The sound of the word on his lips makes my heart flutter, despite the tension.
Bill frowns. “Oh yeah? Well… enjoy my sloppy seconds!”
This cruel comment seems to resonate with Austin just enough for him to realize what is going on, that Bill is my ex, and drama is unfolding.
"You know, Avery is an amazing woman,” Austin says, stepping into the role. “You should have appreciated what you had when you had it.”
Bill appears taken aback by Austin's unexpected defense of me. His pride appears wounded, and he starts to bristle.
“Who asked for your opinion?” he retorts, his voice growing sharper.
Austin, who I assume is never one to back down from a confrontation, squares his shoulders and steps closer to Bill.
“I don't need an invitation to stand up for someone I care about,” he says, his tone firm.
Someone you care about? Once again, the spontaneous, genuine words strike a chord in me.
The atmosphere in the hallway grows increasingly tense. I try to intervene, hoping to prevent the situation from escalating further.
“Guys, let's not do this here,” I urge, placing a hand on Austin's arm. But it's too late. Bill, fueled by his own emotions, raises his voice.
“You think you're something special now, don't you? Just because you're with her? You don't know anything about our history!”
Austin's jaw tightens, and he clenches his fists, his patience wearing thin. “I know enough to see she deserves better than what you put her through.”
I cock my head in his direction. How does he even know what our relationship had been like?
Good instincts, I assume.
Their heated exchange continues, and it becomes apparent that the situation is on the verge of turning physical. I desperately search for a way to defuse the tension and prevent things from spiraling out of control. But, I do not succeed.
The intense exchange between Austin and Bill shows no sign of abating, with both men locked in a heated standoff. The raised voices and threatening gestures draw the attention of a concerned waiter. He rushes over, his face a mix of concern and annoyance, and he firmly intervenes, placing himself between the two men.
“Hey, enough of this, guys!” the waiter admonishes sternly. “This is a private event, and we can't have a fight here. Please, calm down and go back to your tables."
Although still simmering with anger, Bill and Austin reluctantly step back, their faces flushed with frustration. The presence of the waiter serves as a much-needed interruption, and they both retreat to their respective corners, each casting one last scathing look at the other.
Bill gives me one last angry and wistful glance before disappearing. Then, somehow overwhelmed by the unexpected encounter with him, my emotions begin to surge uncontrollably. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I don’t want Austin to see, or the rest of my family for that matter. So, without a second thought, I swiftly turn on my heel and make a beeline for the nearest exit, hoping to find a moment of solitude.
Once I step outside, the cool evening air provides a welcome contrast to the stifling atmosphere of the rehearsal dinner. I lean against a wall, pressing my trembling hand to my mouth to stifle my sobs. Tall hedges encircle the area, providing privacy from the restaurant’s prying eyes. The world around me blurs as I grapple with my emotions, desperately trying to regain control. My heart feels heavy, the encounter with Bill reopening old wounds I had tried to heal. I don't want Austin to see me like this, not now, not when we're in the middle of this pretense.
With each passing moment, I struggle to regain my composure, willing the tears to cease their flow. I walk along the stone path that meanders through the garden, allowing the peaceful atmosphere to soothe my frazzled nerves. The contrast between the harshness of the dining room and the quiet beauty of this garden offers a moment of respite. Here, I can collect my thoughts and perhaps find a way to regain my composure.
Austin
What have I gotten myself into here? I wonder as I observe Avery's hurried exit from the restaurant, leaving me standing in the aftermath of the confrontation with her ex. For a fleeting moment, I stand still, letting her have the space she seems to need. As I watch her disappearing figure, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions hits me.
I’m startled by my own actions. Normally, I wouldn’t get involved in someone else's personal battles, especially not in such a heated manner. I've never felt the urge to intervene in someone else's affairs; yet there I was, standing up for Avery without a second thought. It's not in my nature to get involved in such situations, and I find myself perplexed by my uncharacteristic behavior.
As I dwell on this unexpected turn of events, I wonder what's driving this new side of me, the part that stood up for Avery against her ex’s unfair tirade. Something about her, about the situation, compelled me to act, and it feels unfamiliar and oddly satisfying all at once. I can't help but feel a growing sense of protectiveness toward her, a sentiment that I'm not accustomed to experiencing.
My feelings for her might be running deeper than I initially expected.
The events of the evening have brought an unexpected intensity to our fake relationship, and I find myself unable to ignore the growing connection I feel with her.
I've always been averse to commitment and never let emotions get the best of me. But something about Avery's vulnerability, her strength in the face of adversity, has stirred something within me. The protectiveness and concern I felt for her during the confrontation with her ex were not just fleeting moments but signifiers of a deeper connection I never saw coming.
With a newfound determination, I decide to follow after Avery. My steps quicken as I make my way out of the restaurant, driven by an uncharacteristic desire to be there for her, to comfort her. Plus, if her family is watching, they should see a boyfriend who cares, right?
I step outside and find Avery sitting on a bench in the garden, bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun.
“There you are,” I say as I step forward.
I am immediately struck by her beauty. She looks radiant in her rehearsal dinner attire, and the fading light accentuates her features, making her look all the more enchanting.
A sense of relief washes over me as I approach her. “Are you okay?” I ask her.
She looks up at me with red, puffy eyes. It’s clear that she has been crying.
“Oh, Avery,” I murmur, my voice filled with sympathy.
I take a seat beside her on the bench. We sit there for a moment before I press further.
“You can talk to me,” I reassure her.
She sits there and stares at the sky, not quite willing to open up. But then, in a hushed tone, she admits, “Austin, I should've told you earlier that...I'm divorced.”
My eyes widen with surprise.
Divorced? I wonder.
I hadn’t imagined that she had ever been married, let alone divorced. She continues, her voice tinged with vulnerability, “I didn't want to admit it because I wanted to look good to you, to avoid complicating our arrangement. But I realize now that honesty is important.”
I notice the tremor in Avery's voice, a vulnerability she hadn't revealed until now. As she admits to being divorced, her confession catches me off guard. The surprise is evident in my expression, but I nod, trying to maintain composure.
“It's okay, Avery. I understand why you didn't say anything earlier,” I respond, trying to reassure her. “We're just two people in a complicated situation, trying to make things work. Your past doesn't define you.”
I pause for a moment, feeling a surge of unexpected empathy towards her. “I didn't expect any of this, you know? But it's all right. We'll figure it out.” I offer a small, reassuring smile, hoping to ease the tension hovering between us.
I want to ask her more and understand what led to her divorce, but I sense now isn't the right moment. Instead, I scoot closer to her on the bench, offering comfort with a light touch on her arm. “If you ever need to talk or anything, I'm here.”
As Avery looks up at me, her eyes reflect a mix of relief and gratitude. I feel a strange warmth in my chest, a connection that goes beyond the facade we've built for her family. It's as if our shared vulnerabilities have drawn us closer in an unexpected way. I can't help but feel a surge of protectiveness towards her.
“We should probably get back inside,” I say gently, guiding her back toward the restaurant. “But remember, I'm here if you need anything, okay?”
She stands up, too. But, in a hurry to compose herself, she stumbles and catches herself in my arms. She stares up at me, her eyes sparkling and intense. Her breathing has sped up, and I realize mine also has. Slowly, I pull her closer to me in the garden. My hands slip around her waist and glide up and down her curvy hips.
