Page 98 of Second Down Fake

She nodded. “Yep. She and Cal took off yesterday morning. We had fun. I took them out on a ghost tour. Cal loved it, Becca tolerated it.”

“That’s all you can really ask of her.”

“Isn’t it the truth?” Cassandra bit her bottom lip, running the tines of her fork through the gravy. “She found out about the job.”

“What about the job?”

“I turned it down.”

I kept my face impassive, my chest tightened, fear and relief mixing together uncomfortably. Cassandra didn’t have any other reason to stay now. “What’d she say?”

“She’s disappointed, but I’m sure I’ll get an earful about it once I get home.”

The holidays. Or at least, a holiday-centric bye week. New England had a brutal Christmas Day game, decimating any hopes of the players or staff being home for Christmas. Instead, they’d make do with a bye week the first week of December.

“When are you leaving?”

“The second.”

Two days after the contract ended. With no job and no contract, I didn’t have much time to convince her to stay.

“Have you bought a plane ticket yet?”

“Yeah,” she said, taking a long pull of her drink. “A budget airline and in coach. I booked it before I knew the magic of first class. It’ll be a painful return to normal life.”

“I’d be happy to upgrade it.” The offer was not at all in the spirit of Noa’s advice, but I couldn’t stop myself.

She chuckled. “No. I’m going to have to learn to fly with the peons again. Besides, I’m not sure there’s first class service to New Hampshire.”

“Well, there’s where you’re wrong,” I teased.

“And here I thought you just took a private jet up to the White Mountains.” Her shoulders relaxed as she picked up her fork again, a faint sadness crossing her face. “I can’t believe we have just one more game.”

One more game before I laid my heart on the line. One more game until I had Cassandra.

Or I didn’t.

I brushed her cheek with my thumb. “Then we better make it a good one.”

THIRTY-THREE

CASSANDRA

I pulled my hat over my ears, stuffing my mittened hands under my arms, my eyes glued to the field as the Breakers struggled on the field. The game had turned into a slugging match and the Breakers didn't look dominant. Another field goal for the opposing team tied up the game with only five minutes left in the last quarter.

The biting cold kept Mila away, and Lena had reluctantly joined me in the stands.

I'd banked on a win. The last game of the contract and two days before I traveled home, I'd ridiculously decided that a win was a sign. A sign that everything would be alright. That I'd visit New Hampshire and return to Norwalk, to Diego, our relationship restarting fresh and clean and real.

Now, the logistics of that relationship proved fuzzy. Becca's unfurnished apartment was barely suitable for occasional showers now that I spent nearly every night at Diego's. And the last time I checked my bank account, it hovered slightly above zero. Walking tours and repair work had fallen off as the holidays approached and I only covered a shift or two a week at the Crown & Copper. Staying in Norwalk meant I needed money and resources, both of which I had in short supply.

The stress of the football season seemed to push Diego further and further away. Increased practices, more training, longer days. By the time he came home most nights, we ate at the table and then fell into bed. By the time I woke up, he'd already left.

"I think the mid-season fatigue is getting to them," Lena said, her teeth chattering loudly as she gripped a cup of cocoa. "Early bye weeks are the worst."

"They've been practicing a lot."

"Yeah, they front-load some work so they can get some time off over the holidays." Lena huddled in closer to me, sharing body heat that didn't seem to stave off the biting cold. "But I heard your holiday is this week!"

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