All Of Me

Chapter 32

Clint's POV

"Don't you think it will make us, and you, look bad, Clint? Dating a girl pregnant out of wedlock, with not the slightest clue who the father is?" My father questioned, seated in his large red chair behind his oak desk. The same desk he'd ran Brunswick Country Club out from behind since before I was born.

I chuckled, "You're only looking at the details, dad. You have to look at the whole picture." I stood and leaned against his desk, my hands stuffed into the pockets of my khakis. "The public won't know all of those sordid details. All they'll know, is that I took in a single mother and am raising her son as my own." I place my heart over my chest dramatically, and poke my lip out.

My father's lip curved into a smile and he leans back in his chair, his hands behind his head. "You have a point, son. When will we get to meet this...Brooke Greenburg?"

I finished sending Brooke a text to tell her I wouldn't make it to class, but I would drop by to see her later, and stuffed my phone back into my pocket before responding to my father. I couldn't have my future wife thinking I wouldn't let her know of my whereabouts. I was a loyal, trustworthy, loving husband and father as far as the public would know.

Brooke Greenburg would soon learn what is best for her, fall madly in love with the rich who can give her the world, and forget all about some photographer at a paper driving an old pick up truck.

Clint Harper never loses.

Tripp's POV

I waited and waited for a phone call, but one never came. After work, I neatly placed my camera into my camera bag, and said goodbye to anyone I passed on my way out of the building.

The cool night air hit me as walked to my car. I checked my phone again before tearing out of the parking lot and heading home. Maybe it had embarrassed her. I started to feel bad, and question my gift. I should have just given it to her at her home and not in front of a bunch of people. I knew how timid she was.

I continued to scold myself as my phone rang and I swiped the green button to the right before pressing it against my ear. "Hello?" "Hey! You're never going to guess what happened at work today." It was Brooke and she was bubbly as ever. I braced myself for the praise I was about to receive. but just hearing how happy she was, was enough praise in itself.

"Clint. He bought me all knew clothes for me to wear until Luke gets here. They're so beautiful!" She went on and on about it, but my heart sank to my toes as I pulled the car off onto the shoulder.

"Clint?" I questioned, confused as to why she would think it was him. Wouldn't Carol have told her? Wasn't it obvious enough that it was me? I had been working my fingers to the bone lately to get the money for this.

"Yeah! He came over for dinner after work. I got off a little early tonight so he came over for dinner and said he had done it. Isn't that sweet?" I felt the back of my throat start to tingle as anger mixed with nausea to form a vicious combination.

"That's very sweet. So tell me about this Clint. Where does he work?" I asked casually, pulling my car back onto the road and heading for me house.

"His family owns Brunswick Country Club just outside of town. He works there." Usually her bubbly personality would make me bubbly too, but right now, it made me want to run over something with my car. Not something, Clint.

Nothing could make me feel better until I got to personally watch him roll over my windshield at a fast pace.

We talked for a while longer, until I got home, and we said goodnight.

The next day, I got off work a little early. I had always wondered what the inside of a country club looked like, and today, I was going to find out.

I pulled up and parked in the large parking lot, my old truck sticking out like a sore thumb against all these high-end vehicles. New shiny trucks and vintage cars. Didn't these people have jobs?

No, their lives were handed to them on a silver platter.

I pushed the front doors open, and walked in, suddenly feeling out of place in jeans a tank top, when everyone else stood around dressed...like Clint.

The sea of men lacking masculinity made it hard to pick out which one was Clint, but I would know his face anywhere. The place was dim, fancy cream colored Victorian decor stood out against dark red walls and pictures of Pretty Boy's grandparents and great-grandparents.

I walked over to the desk and looked down at the woman sitting behind it. No doubt Idiot Clint's mother, she looked just like him. No, she wasn't very attractive. She looked like girly-boy, only with red lipstick and curly hair.

"I need to see Clint Harper." I tried to keep my voice calm, but from the look on her face, I failed. She began to refuse, but I looked up to see him walking toward me with a smile and his arms spread. "Tripp Sparks! How are you?" His tone was sarcastic and I wanted to punch him square in the face, but instead just balled my hands into fists by my sides.

"You look pretty today." I said, and he reached his hand out to shake my hand as he laughed off my immature remark. Is he serious right now?

"You and I need to talk outside." I told him calmly, and he chuckled a little, returning his hand to the pocket of his khakis. His pink cardigan was tied perfectly around his broad shoulders, and contrasted against his white polo. "I don't think that's a good idea." He smiled.

I nodded, "Know what? You're right. I'll just say what I have to say right here." I raised my voice, announcing my presence to everyone standing around. His smile abruptly began to dissipate when I began to speak.

"You think you're something with all your money and memberships and fancy cars, but even you should know you don't mess with the woman someone else loves. I don't know why you're interested in Brooke, but it isn't because you love her." My whole body burnt with anger, and just when I thought he was intimidated, he chuckled again, shaking his head. "I surely don't know what you're talking about." He shrugged.

"Brooke told me you took credit for what I did for her yesterday." I jabbed a finger toward my chest, and then back at him, "You are some kind of piece of crap, Clint Harper. You can tell Brooke the truth, or no amount of family lawyers and bodyguards will keep me from bashing your pretty little face in." I spat the words, knowing I meant every one of them with all of my heart.

He glared at me, narrowing his eyes. "Is that a treat?"

It was my turn to chuckle this time, "I don't make threats, I make promises." And with that, I left. Everyone in the building watching in schock at what had just taken place.

The only struggle I would have in beating the crap out of Clint Harper, would be catching him when he ran.