Page 90 of Elf-ish

“Thank you.” Her voice is wistful with relief while still a little shocked.

“Now,” Fitz pats my shoulder. “Enough business. See you in the box.” He nods at Angelica and heads toward the ramp for the upper levels.

“What just happened here?” Angelica asks, mouth gaping while staring at the black business card.

“You have a place to host Beau’s wedding,” I state.

“What did you do?” she whispers, lifting her head and gazing up at me with confusion.

I scrub at the back of my neck. “I, uh . . . I’m on a summer league softball team with a few other businessmen. We do favors for one another.” I might be a member of one of the elite business networking clubs in the city as well but the guys on the team are the men I feel more comfortable asking for something personal.

“What will I owe the man?” She chuckles, the sound still full of shock. “My first born?”

“I’ll probably owe him mine, but I’ve pulled in a favor. He owes me one.”

“For what?”

Those innocent wide eyes do not want to know. Let’s just say I have friends in not all the best places, and I respect their privacy. With a name like Carlucci, Angelica shouldn’t be asking me for details.

Realization slowly dawns on her. “Never mind.” She hugs the business card to her chest. “But thank you, Jude. This is . . . what do I owe you for this?”

Staring at her, with that smile aimed at me, she doesn’t owe me a thing. This isn’t another one-for-one exchange.

“Just your company tonight.” I swipe my finger down her nose.

“Your friend mentioned a box.” She tilts her head, implying the private, personal way to watch a game.

“Our group collectively owns a box, but I bought us regular tickets for tonight.” Regular seats. Regular dates. Trying to be a regular guy. “I just wanted it to be us tonight.” I stare at her, hoping she isn’t disappointed. Lots of people foam at the mouth over box seats, which include a private room and cushioned stadium seats, along with a full-service bar and food.

“I like that,” she says, still giving me a smile, and I wrap my arm around her in relief.

After pressing a kiss to her head, I ask, “Now, what would you like to eat? We have your typical fried foods, or burgers, or hot dogs.”

“I love all of the above,” she hums, glancing up at me from under my arm.

Next to that freckle, her smile might be something I love above all else.

+ + +

When we sit in the seats I purchased, our beers and bratwurst balanced in our laps, the energy of a stadium packed with hockey fans is contagious. Angelica really gets into the game, whooping at good plays and catcalling at the referees for the bad ones. She’s a ball of energy, and I’m loving every second of it.

During a break between the first and second period, she brings up the box seats. “I feel kind of bad that you’re missing out on your friends.”

She hadn’t missed me checking my phone twice before powering it off. Fitz is blowing up my phone over the fact I brought a woman to a game when I never bring someone with me.

When he called her a stunner, it was time to turn off the device.

“I can see them another time,” I admit, just enjoying the time with her.

But after a break between the second and third period, we’re caught in the hallway after I waited for Angelica to exit the bathroom.

“Come up, man,” Fitz begs, squeezing at my shoulder. “We haven’t seen you in a while.”

I hang my head. The group knows the holidays are my busy season. Still, I glance at Angelica.

“Think you’d be up for one drink?” I ask, almost hoping she says no. I don’t want to share her with them. Not yet.

“Okay.” She shrugs, slipping her arm around my elbow. “Besides, I’ve never been in a box before.”