Page 93 of Miami Ice

I blush again, and she retrieves her mixing bowl. “So we’ll all be together on Thursday,” she says, spearing a forkful of salad. “Brunch with Dad at ten-thirty, then dinner at Mom’s at three. I hate the double meal.”

“I raise you. I follow that with dessert with Sofia and Aaron at eight.” I groan. “I’m going to need to wear expandable pants.”

“You can’t raise me. Jordan and I have to go to his parents at night. I’m wearing a maxi dress,” Ella declares. “Because I’m going to have a Thanksgiving food baby on board!”

We both laugh.

My phone vibrates on the coffee table. I reach over and grab it, and I smile when I see it’s a text from Beckham:

Change in plans if you agree. Can you be ready around four-ish? We got invited to go over to Antoni Nowak’s house for predinner appetizers/drinks so we can get the dirt on my new neighborhood. Interested in going with me?

I stare down at his message in shock.

“What?” Ella asks.

“I’ve been invited to have appetizers and drinks at Antoni Nowak’s house.”

Her mouth swings open. “What?”

“Yes!” I cry, incredulous. “I’m going with Beckham to NBA megastar Antoni Nowak’s house. For appetizers.”

“How is this your life, Georgie?” Ella asks, eyes wide.

A million things rifle through my head. This is a whole new world I’m entering. Is Antoni even nice? And what about his girlfriend? Will she be nice? What am I going to wear? Do I need to dress up? Bring a hostess gift? GAH, what do I gift a multimillionaire?

And how do I fit into this ultra-elite world of sports celebrities?

I begin braiding my hair as I worry. Apparently, I’ll find the answers to these questions.

Tonight.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Anxious.

That’s the best way to describe how I’m feeling as the gates to Antoni Nowak’s sprawling contemporary mansion swing open before us, and Beckham drives through. I run my fingers over the braids in my hair, and as soon as I do, he puts his hand on my knee and gives it a squeeze.

“Why are you nervous, Cupcake?”

I blink. “How do you know I’m nervous?”

“You’re touching your hair like you wish you could re-braid it.”

“You’re creeping me out with how well you can read me.”

He eases his car next to a parked Ferrari. “We’ve talked about this earlier today. I’m not supposed to know shit about you at this point, but I do. As you do me.” Beckham puts his SUV into park and looks at me. “So why are you anxious?”

“I don’t know. Antoni’s just one of the greatest basketball players on the planet. Odds are he’s going to lead the Copperheads to the NBA finals this year. He lives in this enormous house, which is like something out ofArchitectural Digest, and it’s all kinds of intimidating.”

“I’m insulted my house wasn’t intimidating,” Beckham teases.

“It was! But Antoni’s is nearly twice the size of yours!”

“You’re saying size matters?” he asks mischievously.

I begin to turn red, and he laughs.

“Georgie, Georgie, Georgie,” he says. “I can assure you that you don’t have to worry about my size. When you take it like a good girl, you know.”

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