She’d tried to engage Leo and Anya with questions about camp activities. So far, she’d gotten nothing but grunts and monosyllabic responses, so she’d given up, figuring she’d try again after dinner.
Leo needed a haircut. His hair was long and hanging well past his brows, which made it easier for him to hide his emotions, which she could always see in his blue eyes, so much like hers. She made a mental note to make a haircut appointment for him this week.
Anya, on the other hand, had no problem at all expressing her emotions. And did it on a regular basis. Her sister sat on the cusp of adulthood, with one foot still firmly planted in the land of bitchy teenager. Katrina never knew which sister she was going to get on any given day. The laughing, smiling, let’s-talk-smart-topics one, or the sullen, angry-with-Katrina-about-everything one.
Such a joy.
“By the way, Grant Cassidy will be picking us up at ten tomorrow morning,” Anya said.
Katrina nearly choked on her sip of wine. She laid the glass down on the table. “What?”
“Grant. Cassidy. Hot football player. You didn’t tell us you were dating him.”
She shot Anya a glare. “I am not dating him.”
“You know Grant Cassidy?” Leo leaned forward, lifting his head and shaking his hair back. “Since when?”
“I did a photo shoot with him in Barbados.” She looked over at Anya. “And what do you mean he’s picking us up tomorrow?”
Anya gave her a saucy grin. “He called while you were in the tub. Said he’s in town and wants to take us all out tomorrow. I said yes on our behalf.”
And there went her stress level again. “Anya. You shouldn’t have done that.”
Anya shrugged. “Why not? He told me that he told you he was going to call you and set things up when he was in town. He’s in town. I didn’t want to bug you while you were in the tub. You seemed wigged out when you got home today, so I figured you wanted some downtime.”
“Grant Cassidy’s coming here tomorrow? Cool.” Leo took a sip of his soda.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Katrina said. “I’m going to have to call him and cancel.”
Leo frowned. “Why? Is he a dick?”
“No, he’s not. And don’t say dick.”
“So if he’s not a dick—”
“Anya. Come on,” Katrina said, pleading for either an end to this conversation or for some return to civility. It wasn’t looking like she was going to get either.
“Okay. So if you don’t dislike him, then you like him,” Anya said.
“I didn’t say that, either.”
“He had your phone number. And he seemed like a pretty cool guy.”
“Based on what? A five-minute phone conversation?”
“More like three minutes, actually. But he’s taking us out tomorrow. And we’re going. You don’t want to be rude and call him back now and cancel. Then you’d be the dick.”
“Oh. My God. I don’t know what to do with the two of you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with us,” Anya said. “You, on the other hand, are way too tense. You probably need to get laid. Maybe Grant Cassidy can help you with that.”
Leo snickered, then raised his hand up high. Anya high-fived him.
“I am not having this conversation with you two. Finish your pizza, then clear the table and do the dishes.” She took her glass of wine and went into the living room to turn on the television.
“That means we’re going out with Grant Cassidy tomorrow,” Leo said.
This was a nightmare. Her entire life had somehow spiraled completely out of control and she no longer had the capacity to deal with it.
So tonight, she was going to drink wine.
Tomorrow, she’d figure out how to handle her unruly teenage siblings who obviously had no sense of boundaries.
And then she’d deal with Grant Cassidy.
SEVEN
GRANT HAD GOTTEN PERMISSION FROM THE TEAM TO fly in a day early, claiming he had some promotional things to attend to. Which he had, and he’d handled in about two hours. Hey, what they didn’t know—they didn’t have to know. He wanted this day to see Katrina.
After checking in early at his hotel, he took a cab to Katrina’s condo on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.
This place had a doorman. Fancy. Grant gave his name, and the doorman buzzed, looked at Grant, then motioned for him.
“You can go on up, Mr. Cassidy.”
“Thanks.”
He went to the sixth floor, and once he found Katrina’s door, rang the bell.
The door was opened by a very tall teenage boy with long hair and eyes the same color as Katrina’s. The kid leaned against the doorway, not exactly blocking it, but not letting him in just yet, either.
Protective. Assessing. Grant liked that Katrina’s younger brother wasn’t going to let just any guy through the front door.
“You must be Leo. I’m Grant Cassidy.”
“I am.”
Grant held out his hand, and Leo shook it. The kid had a firm handshake, so he had that going for him.
“Hi. Come on in.”