Page 90 of Second Down Fake

The woman laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not selling anything. I am a colleague of your sister’s, Rebecca. She said you had moved to the area and were looking for a job.”

Leave it to Becca to juggle a brand-new job, new home, and score me a job interview. An absolute poster child for over-achieving firstborns.

“Right, I’m sorry, but she hadn’t mentioned you’d be calling.”

“Oh, she gave me your number weeks back. I didn’t have an opening at the time, but we just lost our receptionist, and I found your number. Are you still looking for a job? We could schedule an interview.”

“Um, sure, yeah.” I scrambled around the kitchen for a slip of paper. “It’s a receptionist job?”

“Front desk for our ortho clinic. It’s Monday through Friday, through a hospital system so full time with benefits.”

I set aside my hatred for office work and jotted down the information, hanging up with an interview later that week. My fingers danced over the phone screen, unsure if I should call Becca. Probably not. If I did, she’d be on the phone with the woman in a heartbeat, strong-arming her into offering me the job tonight.

I frowned at the address. An answer to my prayers and a death sentence. A retirement plan, health insurance, a steady paycheck, a reason to stay in Norwalk. An aura of responsibility that might not make my sister, my parents, or Diego cringe in embarrassment when someone asked what I did. But also boring, monotonous days yoked to a desk with the same people for weeks and months and years. I pocketed the paper with a sigh.

The security system chimed, and Diego walked into the kitchen with a smile and dinner. His eyes roved down my body before landing on the orzo salad on the counter. “Couldn’t wait?”

I slid the top onto the container and stood with a grin. “It’s hard to tell how long you’ll be stuck at the stadium after the game. I’m glad it wasn’t long today.”

“Well, we’re having a winning season and I’ve got you on the sidelines. My team is happy, my coach is happy, and the press are happy. It’s hard to come up with much controversy during the post-games.” He slid an arm over my shoulders, pulling me into his chest and brushing a kiss over my cheek. “And I have you to thank for that.”

I closed the fridge and gripped his forearm, letting my body relax and hoping I could hold on to the feeling.

THIRTY

DIEGO

Breaking the Breakers

There's only six short weeks of regular season play, and the Breakers are mowing through their competition. Super Bowl hopes are high, but blow outs are boring. Let's turn our attention to the sidelines.

The bars and nightclubs in downtown Norwalk are no doubt feeling the loss of their best customer. Trent Vogt appears to be on the straight and narrow, but how long can that last?

Wedding preparations are underway for Noa Kweame and his fiancée. The official wedding date in Hawaii has been confirmed as May 23rd, but rumor has it there is a very hush-hush high security event planned for Valentine's Day weekend under his fiancée's last name, Rynel.

And while Diego Salazar maintains his title as the NFL's most bangable player, it seems like he's only got eyes for one woman. And while we hope this one sticks, any fan following the team since the beginning knows Salazar's patter: hot and heavy through the season and then ice cold after.

"Nice of you to show up," Rob answered from the floor of his daughter's room. A sparkly blue tiara sat perched on his head while Noa sported a medieval, Renaissance style hat with ribbons flowing down his long black hair and onto his shoulder.

"I'm late, but I brought tea biscuits for the party."

"Oh! Cookies?" Mila set down the porcelain teapot in her hand and rushed to my side. I opened the pastel pink box before handing it to her. "Cookies! And they're so pretty!"

"Dinner isn't for another hour," Rob grumbled.

"You can't show up to a tea party empty-handed." Or rather, I couldn't show up an hour late without a distraction in the form of cookies in exchange for Mila's affection.

"Yeah, you can't show up for a tea party empty-handed." Mila shot a meaningful look at Noa.

He held his hands up with a grin. "Didn't I just take you to the children's museum? And the zoo?"

"Sweetie, go find your grandma and have one of those in the kitchen. We don't need ants in your room," Rob said placatingly.

HIs daughter nodded and ran off to the kitchen in a heartbeat.

"Fucking hell, Diego," Rob yelled, ripping off the tiara and slamming it on the table. "Don't bring sweets into this house. That child is a monster when she's eaten sugar."

"I wonder where she gets that from," Noa laughed good-naturedly, refusing to shrivel at Rob's glare.

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