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I roll my eyes. “Is that what this is about? He’s mad that I’m not picking up, so he sent his minion to make it better?”
“Okay, hold on a sec’.” He raises his index finger. “First of all, I am no one’s minion. I am the quarterback. I’m the team captain, and I make the plays. I’m ... well, whoever is in charge of the minions.”
I can’t help but smile. “Okay. So, why are you here then?”
He clasps his hands on the table. “I’m here because I need a date to a charity gala next week.”
A sharp pain stabs my chest. “Absolutely not.”
“Wait, just hear me out. Bryce isn’t going.”
My eyebrows pinch together. “Why not?”
He lifts a blocky shoulder. “I don’t know. Couldn’t get a straight answer out of him. But Nana is taking his ticket, and going in his place. That leaves one ticket left, and I need a plus one.”
My eyes narrow. “Why didn’t Beatrice call me to tell me this?”
“Bryce was going to tell you, but you never answered. Have you listened to any of his messages?”
My heart sinks. “That’s why he’s been calling?”
He nods. “He said Nana has your dress, and your journal too.”
“She found my journal? Oh, that’s great news.” I blow out a sigh of relief. “I thought it was gone forever.”
“See? This works out perfectly. So, whaddya say? Will you be my date, Miss Johnson?”
Why would I attend this event without Bryce? It was a big deal for him to go, and I hate that he’s regressing back to his reclusive ways.
Then again, it would be great to see Beatrice. She spent a lot of money on that dress, and I’d feel awful letting it go to waste. Plus, I’d get my journal back.
Before I can answer, I spot Jenny speed-walking down my aisle carrying a full tray of drinks. She winks, and places her finger over her mouth, signaling for me to be quiet as she approaches.
I narrow my eyes and tilt my head, giving her a look that asks, What are you doing?
As Jenny reaches our table, she trips and rolls her ankle. Her body flies forward—dumping the drinks all over Anthony.
Anthony sputters as we both spring to our feet. “Fuck, that’s cold!”
Ice cubes and soda slosh all over the table, and nearby patrons gasp.
Anthony spots Jenny on the floor, and bends down to help her to her feet. He lifts her as if she’s the size of a Chihuahua, steadying her with his grip on her biceps. “Are you okay?”
Stunned, Jenny gazes up into Anthony’s eyes. “Y-you’re not Greg.”
His head jerks back. “No. I’m Anthony.”
I peek out from behind his large frame. “He’s the quarterback for the New England Patriots.”
“Wait a second.” He releases her, and takes a step back. Ice cubes crunch under his feet. “You thought I was Greg the Cheater. You did that on purpose?”
Jenny brushes it off like it’s no big deal. “I was trying to shrivel up his dick with all the ice cubes. Maybe it would fall off or something.”
I hold my breath waiting for Anthony’s response while he stares at my best friend like she’s an alien.
Santiago comes running from the kitchen. “Sir, I am so sorry. Your entire meal is on the house. Can I get you a towel, or—”
Anthony throws his head back and closes his eyes, a loud bellowing laugh ripping from his chest. “Oh, my God. That’s amazing.” He looks at me, and jerks his thumb at Jenny. “This is your friend? She’s badass.”
