Page 14 of Personal Foul

He chuckled and handed her phone back. They continued looking at the paintings, with him asking questions and she answering. After about half an hour, an older man walked up to them with a hesitant question on his face.

“Hello, sorry to bother you, I was wondering if you were…”

His voice trailed off, as if afraid to continue the question. Romilly looked at Kaiden, wondering how he was going to play this. At the restaurant the other night, he had denied being himself, and she was there to back him up on whatever he said.

Then Kaiden held out his hand. “Kaiden Demay. Nice to meet you.”

A smile burst across the man’s face as he thrust out his hand. “Wow, I’m so stoked. Over nine thousand receiving yards. Over four hundred receiving first-downs. A five-time pro-bowler and four-time All-Pro. It’s amazing to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Kaiden said humbly.

“Would you mind if I got a picture?”

“Here, I’ll take it,” Romilly said.

The man smiled and held out his phone. She took it and snapped a few photos as the man posed with Kaiden.

“Thank you,” the man said. “Please tell me you’re joiningthe Archers.”

Kaiden put a finger to his lips. “Too early to talk football.”

“Oh, yes. Sorry. Fingers crossed. Well, thank you so much. My son is going to freak out. He was supposed to come with me but decided he didn’t want to see art tonight. This’ll teach him!”

He thanked them both again, and then disappeared into the crowd.

Kaiden looked down at her. “Thanks for handling that so well.”

“Does that happen often? Running into people who quote your stats?”

He nodded. “Happened a lot when I was back in California.”

“Are you famous or something?”

“Sometimes I get recognized, like tonight. It got bad after my first arrest.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Your first?”

“This past year I’ve done some stupid stuff,” he admitted, then looked around. “This conversation is best somewhere else.”

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, we can do that some other time. I don’t want to upset your evening here.”

“Let’s go meet the artist and then we can leave. Does that work?”

He ran the backs of his fingers down one of her cheeks. “All right.”

They made their way to where the artist, Martin Hope, held court, talking about his work. He was a heavier man, full beard. Not someone who looked like they were a starving artist. And as soon as he saw Kaiden, he stopped mid-sentence and his jaw dropped.

“I think he recognizes you,” she whispered.

Martin barreled forward, awe in his gaze. “Oh my God! You’re … you … it’s you!”

Kaiden smiled. “It’s me. My friend wanted to meet—”

Martin thrust his hand out, taking hold of Kaiden’s even though he rolled right over what he said.

“I’m a fan,” he gushed. “You guys should’ve won the Super Bowl three years ago.”

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