Page 27 of Playing for Love

“I think we can handle that,” I said, pulling Denise in on one side while the man stood on her other side. The older woman rummaged in her bag and pulled out a phone, ready to take the picture.

“I’ll take the photo for you,” Mia said. “Why don’t you jump in the picture too?”

“That’s very kind of you.” Mia gently took the woman’s arm and helped position her on my other side. Then she took the old woman’s phone and stepped back a few feet to take some photos.

“You all look great. I’ll take a bunch so you’ll be sure to find one you like. How about you all say ‘Super Bowl?’” She laughed when I plastered a cheesy smile on my face, exactly the reason I’d done it. To hear that laugh. The heat I felt run through me then had nothing to do with the weather outside.

“We’re all set. I think I got some good ones for you.” Mia handed the phone back to the woman. “Where are you headed?” she asked.

“Not far,” the man said.

“Do you have a ride?” I said. It was not a good night for a stroll with the heat heavy and a thunderstorm impending.

“No, we were walking,” the man said.

“Let me get you a cab,” I said, noticing that a few drops had already started falling outside the shelter of the restaurant’s awning.

Under her breath, Denise said, “Do you really think that’s necessary?” I ignored her.

“That’s awfully nice of you, Mr. Wyatt, but that’s too much.”

I went to the curb and waved my hand. There were always cabs around this part of town and I managed to flag one down within a second. I told the cabbie to take the couple wherever they needed to go and gave him a fifty-dollar bill. Mia helped the older woman into the cab and I shut the door. Luckily the crowd had trickled down to nothing with the start of the rain. I didn’t need anyone making something of this.

The sky decided to stop spitting and opened up, cool rain pouring down in a sheet. Mia squealed in surprise, mirth on her face as she looked up. I took her by the arm and ran with her back under the awning where Denise waited with Tate and the maître d’.

“Mr. Wyatt, come inside. Let me get you a dry jacket.” The maître d’ held the door open and Denise took my free arm. Mia joined up with Tate and we went inside.

“Do you have a towel for the lady?” I asked, looking at Mia, the twinkle still in her eyes. She shivered in the sudden cold of the restaurant’s dark interior.

“I should hope so,” Denise said.

“Of course. We’ll have a towel brought to the ladies’ room for you.”

Denise nodded and went with Mia. A hostess brought a jacket to me. “I’m not sure if it’s big enough,” she said. “I was guessing at the size.”

I took it from her and winked. “I’m sure it’ll do.” Shrugging out of my wet jacket, she took it and I tried on the charcoal jacket she brought for me.

“Take care of that,” Tate said, “It’s worth more than a month’s rent.”

“Sure will, Mr. Fontanna.” She gave Tate a flirtatious smile and the maître d’ ushered us to a semiprivate booth.

Tate whispered. “I feel like we’re in the scene from the Bible where the seas part. You hear that hushing as we walk by? Feel the stares?”

“Don’t let your imagination run away, Fontanna.” I spoke quietly as we took our seats. “You ain’t seen nothing till you’ve been in a Super Bowl parade on duck boats through downtown Boston with thousands of people coming out in the middle of the winter to cheer. That’s what I call biblical.”

The maître d’ left the menus and said someone would be over for our drink order right away.

“That’s my plan,” Tate said. “To have the Super Bowl experience. That’s why I took this deal even though the Militia weren’t the highest bidder.”

I nodded. I knew when he’d gone into free agency we’d be lucky to get him.

“Appreciated, Fontanna. It’s one of the things I like about you. One of the reasons I’m glad you’re on the team. Why I’m certain we’re favorites for a repeat.”

Denise and Mia arrived back at the table, escorted by the maître d’ who seemed to be our private staff for the night.

“No more talk about football,” Denise said as she sat in the booth next to me. Mia slipped in on the other side, next to Tate.

“No football?” Mia’s expression was incredulous. “Impossible. I was looking forward to discussing the game—hearing about it from the insiders.” She regarded Tate with one of those looks that said, I can’t wait to hear the sound of your voice so I can hang on every word.