Page 79 of The Keeper

I drained the glass, swallowing any and all emotions down with it. Tonight was for fun and shenanigans. I’ll try to keep the self-pity and wallowing to a minimum.

The upcoming week promised to be a busy one with the draft in town. Noah’s fundraiser wasn’t an official part of the festivities but it certainly helped set the tone. There were so many events to look forward to. It’s like Christmas for the football league. Aside from winning the championship, of course.

Camera crews lined the sidewalk outside the restaurant. They were cordoned off behind some barriers to give the players space as they arrived.

Killian whipped out his phone. “Selfie time, story time, live stream time.”

I laughed at my best friend’s ability to turn any situation into an opportunity to grow his audience. He pointed the phone at me as we entered the restaurant.

“I’m here with Manhattan socialite and media relations goddess, Victoria Chase, to unofficially kick off Draft Week,” he said in his best tabloid reporter voice. “Ms. Chase, how do you think the Legends will fair this year?”

I giggled, pulling Maxim into the frame with me. “I don’t know, Mr. Monroe, but this hot guy and I are looking forward to the open bar inside.”

Killian turned and held up his phone so we all fit in the screen. “Coming in hot,” he exclaimed.

I loved when Killian acted ridiculous like this. Sure, we probably weren’t acting our age but who cares. Nobody else’s opinion mattered. And to be honest, a little frivolity never hurt anyone.

“This restaurant is the shit,” Maxim declared.

“That’ll be a dollar,” Killian shouted with a laugh.

Maxim wasn’t wrong. This restaurant was a vibe. It looked and felt like we’d stepped out onto a rooftop deck. A very fancy one.

Since this building used to be an old warehouse, the sky-high ceilings gave off the impression we really were outside. The ceiling even had twinkling lights embedded in it to look like stars. A huge bar was located in the center with all the tables scattered around it. String lights crisscrossed above the bar out to several columns. Plush couches lined the walls for anyone who just wanted to sit and enjoy a few drinks or appetizers.

A good majority of our team and other players from around the league showed up for Noah’s event. He was not only highly respected by all his teammates and coaches, but by players from opposing teams as well. He held court near the bar, no doubt retelling the story of the Legends’ most recent championship victory to an enamored group of party-goers.

“Victoria. Nice to finally see you.”

I looked over to see Tre Gideon, our newest asset, approaching. The wide receiver made waves after leaving Denver to become a free agent. He was rather vocal on social media about where he wanted his landing spot to be.

Fortunately, the Legends were open for discussions. And here we are.

“How long has it been?” he asked, hugging me. “Last time you guys were in Denver, it wasn’t a pretty game.”

“Nope. Not for you it wasn’t.” I grinned, remembering the blowout loss we handed his team. “But now you’re with the good guys.”

“Or the evil empire, depending on who you ask.”

“Mind if I grab a photo of you two?” Scott, the team’s official photographer stopped in front of us and raised his camera.

“Not at all,” Tre replied. I sidled up next to him and smiled for the camera.

“Thanks. Enjoy the event.” Scott meandered off toward the bar.

“I might as well get one too. I need to freshen my feed anyway,” Killian smirked, whipping out his phone.

I shot Killian a look. “Sure. Tre, that’s Killian, my pain-in-the-ass best friend.”

Tre laughed and kept me snug against his side. “New York is the place to be seen,” he said. “I don’t mind a few photos. Especially with this stunning lady.” We smiled for him.

Tre reached out and shook Killian’s hand. “Nice meeting you.” A bright smile lit up his face when he turned to me. “Good seeing you again, Victoria. Catch you at the stadium soon.”

I watched him saunter over to Noah and some of the other guys from the offense. A sharp poke in my side jolted me.

“Ow. Killian what the fuck,” I yelped.

“You little minx.” His brows slashed down in accusation. “That’s the wide receiver, isn’t it?”

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