“Was I that much of an asshole last night?"
"You left me high and dry, Tyler," April says, looking up for the first time. "You may not understand it, you're Mr. Hot Shot Quarterback, but to see your so-called wingman ditch you with two sluts less than a half hour after you arrive is not exactly a good fucking time!"
Her voice rises as she continues, her face animating and for the first time I think, I'm seeing the real April Gray, and I'm surprised at how pretty she really is. She's one of those women who is super cute when she's pissed off.
"Seriously, what the fuck were you thinking? I mean, I didn't expect to end up back here or anything, but to just ditch me? And you didn't even have the courtesy to say that you were doing it! I was just lucky that the club was empty enough that I could see you down there grinding like the luckiest son of a bitch in the club between Miss Chocolate and Miss Vanilla Surprise. You could have at least come up and said you were leaving. Instead you just trotted out the door like Leo DiCaprio in a Miami club or some shit!"
I sip my juice, giving her a chance to calm down, then reply. I'm not trying to be angry myself, but I can feel my voice rising too, probably because of how much my head still hurts. "You know what? You're right. I don't remember it, so I’m not even going to try to make up an excuse. I remember the two girls coming up to me at the bar, offering to buy me a drink, but after that, it's all a haze. I woke up this morning with a splitting headache, naked, and you banging on the room door. I've got a headache about the size of the Grand Canyon going on, and I swear Dragonforce has set up shop between my ears and is doing a giant guitar solo, it hurts so damn bad!"
April stares at me for a moment, then her throat works, she's looking for more to say. I take another bite of muffin, and then finish my first glass of juice. "Tyler, just because you claim to not remember doesn’t make it all right."
"I know," I reply, calmer and more in control. I sigh, and look at the remains of the muffin on the plate. "I know. And I am sorry. Last night when I asked you, I certainly didn’t intend to ditch you, I wanted us to have a good time. Hell, I just wanted to get you out of your shell for a little bit."
"Why?" April asks, her face openly hurt.
"Because in the two days we've worked together, I see a woman who's smart and pretty, but is so caught up in some self-made cloak of shyness that she can't do anything about it. You seem to know a lot about me, and I get that it’s part of your job, but it’s more than that. I want you to feel comfortable, and to be straight with me. That's what I need, not a gofer girl."
April considers me for a moment, then speaks up. "All right," she says, her voice gaining strength. "I'll do my best. But Tyler . . . I know I'm supposed to be your assistant, but maybe, well, maybe you could help me too?"
I know what she's asking for, and to me, that's no problem at all. "Deal. Now, what about the car?"
April's smile is charming and cute, and again I get the feeling she's like someone I know. Actually, looking at her smile, I get the feeling of ocean breezes and pine trees. I've always been someone who connects memories to smells. Like for me, football is the smell of leather, grass, and the distinct funk of shoulder pads. Thanksgiving, I smell turkey and pumpkin pie. Birthdays are about candles, and Christmas is about the tree. With April, for some strange reason, I'm thinking ocean salt and pine trees.
"I called the dealer, they're fine with you picking it up later, and the rental guy said he'd be happy to pick it up from the dealer later, the car's due for an oil change or something. Still, if we're going to get that done, your furniture arranged, and your stuff packed up for moving tomorrow, we need to get a move on."
"Wait, tomorrow?" I ask, confused. "I have practice tomorrow. How am I going to move my stuff?"
"You're not," April says with a little smile. "Remember, personal assistant? You have your bags packed, and I'll get them from you at the stadium tomorrow, and spend the rest of the day setting up your place. You've still got a lot of little things to get, you know. Tableware, electronics, stuff like that. We can talk about it on the way."
I laugh and shake my head, coming over and offering my hand to April to shake. She does, and I can see feel a little spark jump between us, maybe. "I don't know if you know it, but you're doing an awesome job. All right, let me find a shirt instead of this robe, and we can go."
"Socks, too. You're not wearing any socks."
"Right . . . socks."