They climbed into the car, and Nathan didn’t buckle up, just sat there with his chin pressed to his chest.
“Nathan?”
Nathan shuddered as he inhaled, then turned his tear-filled gaze to Mick. “You think I could turn out like you. Because of what I did the other night.”
“I didn’t say that. I never said that. But yeah, I worry it could happen to you. Or any one of your friends who doesn’t think about the consequences of drinking and partying. Think about that practice you saw today, how hard those players work in the NFL. Then think about how hard they had to bust it in college making grades and getting through classes while also playing football.”
“But I thought—”
“You thought what? That someone else does their classwork for them? That they can float through and professors will cut them some slack? College isn’t like high school, Nathan. Colleges don’t care if you’re playing football or not. They still expect you to pass. And try doing that while downing a bottle of vodka a day, or a case of beer, or whatever your poison is. Mine was whiskey and beer.”
“Jesus. I didn’t know. I just wanted to be cool like the other guys.”
“I’m sure the other guys don’t know either. They have no idea, because they think they can handle it. I thought I could handle it. And for a while I was doing fine. But then everything crumbled, and even then I wouldn’t listen to the people who knew what was best for me. I wouldn’t listen to my parents or my coaches or the team physicians. I almost lost out on my chance to play in the NFL. I could have lost everything. I could have died. All because I wanted to drink and party. Mainly because I wanted to drink. And it all started when I was your age, because I wanted to look cool and I was desperate to fit in.”
The tears fell down Nathan’s cheeks now. “So what am I supposed to do? They all drink. There are parties all the time. I’m accepted now.”
“You can still be accepted. You can be cool without drinking. And if they don’t like you because you aren’t a drunk, then what kind of friends are they? You’re a great football player with a lot of potential, Nathan. Let your skills and your academics do the talking for you. I’ll wager not every member of the team is a hard partyer. Find those guys and hang out with them.”
He slouched in the seat. “I guess so.”
“Look, I’m not going to make the choices for you. You’re old enough now to make your own. I just wanted to show you what could happen. Your life is entirely different than mine. It’s up to you to choose.”
He took Nathan home. The kid went straight up to his room, hardly saying a word to Tara. She cast a worried look at Mick.
“Didn’t go well?”
Mick shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I got the message across. It scared the hell out of him.”
She crossed her arms and nodded. “That’s a good thing. He should be scared.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about teenagers, Tara. I tried.”
She went to him, put her arms around him, and kissed him. “Thank you. You did more than most people would have. He knows you care. And I appreciate it.”
He just hoped it would be enough.
FIFTEEN
TARA WAS THRILLED TO HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO DO the AIDS charity fund-raiser at the art museum, a very high-profile annual event in San Francisco. Black tie, very ritzy, and she and her staff had been planning it for months. It was going to be incredibly well attended, with local dignitaries like the mayor planning to come. Plus, the rumor was being tossed about that some Hollywood people were planning to be in attendance.
She hadn’t been able to eat, sleep, or breathe for the past week, nor had she and Mick been able to see each other, which was probably a good thing, since Mick was doing preseason game prep, and he said Elizabeth had been running him ragged with PR appearances so he’d been unavailable, too. She missed him terribly, but during a quick phone call earlier in the week they’d made plans for tomorrow.
She was looking forward to seeing him. Nathan was spending the night at a friend’s house now that he was through being grounded. He’d been on his best behavior lately and had actually been hanging out with a few new friends—nice kids, actually, so Tara had checked them out, made sure the parents of the kid he was staying with tonight were going to be home, and gave her okay for him to stay over.
That left her free and clear to dive into full-on panic mode for this event. She’d arrived at the gallery three hours before the doors opened, making sure the caterers were in place, the bar was set up, and there was a clear pathway to all the silent auction items.
With a few free minutes before the gallery opened, she ducked into the ladies’ room to check her appearance. She wore a black cocktail dress with tiny spaghetti straps. The bodice was form-fitting and tight enough that she could barely breathe, which was perfect. She wore sinfully high shoes that she loved and adored and—as usual—killed her feet. Her hair was piled up high on her head with cascading curls. She applied a new layer of gloss to her lips and inspected herself in the mirror. Not too bad. Stress had added some color to her cheeks, so she actually looked okay. It was important she make a good impression on the foundation and any potential new clients she might meet tonight.
“You breathing?”
She turned around and grimaced as Maggie walked in. “Hyperventilating is more like it. You look lovely.”
Maggie pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. She had on a blue dress and wore the top of her hair up, the bottom straight and teasing her cheeks.
“Well, thanks. I just want to get through tonight without passing out. I can’t believe you made me come tonight. I’m office help, not front lines.”
Tara slipped her lip gloss into her clutch and went to Maggie, patting her on the arm. “Nonsense. I need your help working the auction tonight.”
Maggie inhaled and blew it out. “Whatever you say, boss.”
“You’re the most outgoing person I know, and we need all the new clients we can get. So let’s plug in and get started.”
Once the doors opened, there was no time to be nervous or worry about the small details. People streamed in, likely because they’d heard there was a chance a few movie stars were going to be in attendance tonight. Tara didn’t care who was there as long as the event went over well. So when Olivia McCallum, Susan Winters, and Layla Taylor arrived—all hot and upcoming Hollywood starlets, she practically fainted because this was the draw she’d been hoping for. And when movie heartthrobs Derek Davis and Malcolm Brown came in, Tara knew the night was going to be perfect.