The Relationship Pact – Kings of Football Read Online Adriana Locke

Categories Genre: College, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
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“Is that a serious question?”

“I don’t know. Was yours?”

I can almost hear her eyes roll. “Larissa,” she says with an exhaustion that is more dramatic than necessary. “You act like it’s not a terrific opportunity for you to come and rub shoulders with these people.”

“Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“The sound of my eyes rolling into the back of my head,” I say.

It’s a joke that the audience didn’t appreciate.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she huffs.

I sigh. “That means that you are obligated to attend these things. You’re Jack’s wife. It’s his schtick. I’m his stepdaughter—”

“There are no steps in our family, Larissa.”

I regrip the wheel and say a silent prayer for guidance.

“Has it ever occurred to you that being invited to these things is an opportunity that many people your age would kill to have? These are your future clients, Larissa. These are the people with giant checkbooks that will want their summer homes and expansive landscapes refreshed and beautified. They’ll be looking for a landscape architect and having your name on the tip of their tongue once you graduate in May is how you network. Use this to your advantage, darling.”

“I’m going to have years to build a business. I might not even want to have my business in Savannah,” I say, although that’s not true. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. “I might not want to work on residences and estates.”

“You’re being difficult.”

Learned from the best.

“I do expect you to be there tomorrow night,” she says, matter-of-factly. “You didn’t mention that you were not going to attend, and you come every year. So, show up with your date, please.”

I pilot the car around a roundabout while trying to determine how to handle my mother. Usually, I would change the subject and never actually address it to avoid an argument. But Bellamy’s voice keeps rolling around inside my head.

Stand your ground.

“If I do attend,” I say, “I will be coming alone.”

Her displeasure is evident. “You cannot come alone.”

“And why not?”

“For one, Jack bought you two tickets. Those are not cheap.”

“No one asked if I wanted them.”

She groans. “Larissa, cooperate with me, please.”

“I’ll tell people my date got sick. They’d probably be grateful I came alone rather than bringing an ill guest.”

“Can you just bring somebody so you aren’t sitting by an empty plate?”

I squint into the sunlight. “Why does the idea of sitting alone bother you so much? It doesn’t bother me. I’m great company. You should hear the conversations I have with myself.”

She takes a long, deep breath. I can imagine her looking at the ceiling with a hand on her neck, mumbling something quietly about God giving her strength.

“Can we not do this right now?” she asks. “I have a ton of things to do and arguing with my baby girl is not on the agenda today.”

“I’m not arguing with you. I’m just telling you I’ll come despite not agreeing beforehand like an adult should have the right to do. But I’m coming alone.”

“I don’t understand you,” she says, her voice clipped.

“That is obvious.”

“All I do is try to help you. I try to give you every advantage in the world. I get you tickets to events, invitations to banquets—I surround you with men who could take care of you someday and—”

My eyes about bulge out of their sockets. “Whoa. Hold up. I don’t know why you think I need taken care of.”

“Because you do. It’s not a personal fault. It’s the way life works.”

There aren’t words in the English language I can string together to accurately display my outrage and shock.

“I want you to have a great life,” she says, quieter this time. “I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I have.”

“I’m twenty-four. My job is to live my life and make mistakes so I can learn from them. I think maybe you didn’t realize that when you were young.”

She goes back to rumpling paper and I know she’s mentally checked out of this line of questioning. It’s what happens when a topic even remotely comes close to touching her past.

“I worry that you’re going to end up alone someday if you don’t start being serious about dating,” she says.

“Would being alone truly be the end of the world?”

“Yes. It would. You need someone to love you and support you and to be there to help fight the world alongside you.”

I can’t argue with her. She’s right. I want the relationship she’s describing … if it’s a real thing. And I’m not sure it is.

Mom grows quiet on the other end of the line. I can’t tell if she’s considering my stance or if I’ve hurt her feelings somehow. All I know is that I hate it when things between us get like this.

“I’ll be there tomorrow,” I tell her. Even as I say the words, I want to take them back.


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