Page 15 of Good Guy Gabe

I scan the crowd for other people to introduce her to, landing on the Allores. They’re a younger couple, Evan having been drafted by the Jugs straight out of college last year, but Keira’s got a good head on her shoulders. Strangely, though, when Keira spots us approaching, she grabs him by the arm and drags him straight out of the ballroom.

Huh.

I shrug it aside and find Blaise and Candy, who’s definitely a stripper but is also nice and happy to meet Joss. Joss, in turn, is really excited when Candy says her mom is a subscriber.

“Oh? What’s her name?” Joss asks.

“Oh, I can’t imagine you know her. I don’t think she talks or anything. Lisbet Rosser?”

Joss gasps. “What are you talking about, I love Lisbet! Oh my gosh, that means you’re, oh god, lemme think. You’re Tara? The radiologist?”

Candy — or Tara — is shocked and delighted. “I am! I am a radiologist!”

“Really?” Blaise asks, as surprised as I am. I guess we both thought she was a stripper.

She gives him a little shove. “I do exist outside of Red Ripple. I told you I was there to pay off student loans. The Firebugs aren’t just a bunch of sluts.”

“What’s a Firebug?” Joss asks way too gleefully for my comfort. I don’t need her getting sucked into that circle. By all accounts, Blaise is a better catch than I am. I would never tell Joss she can’t be friends with his fangirls, but I really don’t want her head getting filled with all the reasons she should ditch me for him.

“It’s this asshole’s fan club,” Tara says with a jab of her thumb at Blaise. “You know, ‘cause his name is Blaise? Like,blaze? I don’t know why we do it. He’s such a prick to us. He’s lucky he’s so good in bed. Are you one of Gabriel’s Angels?”

Joss drops her jaw in exaggerated shock as she tugs on my sleeve. “Do you have a fan club, too?”

I shift uncomfortably. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea about me. “I don’t have sex with any of them.”

“He’s just in it for the cookies,” Blaise jokes, using his left hand to smack my gut.

Perfect. Didn’t want her to get therightidea about me either. Thanks, Blaise.

Tara shoots eyeball daggers at Blaise. At least she’s got my back. “Did you really make that quilt, Joss? Are you selling the pattern?”

I can see from here that the quilt is a long, skinny design with the Jugs wheel and roses logo. Now that I’ve found someone for Joss to talk to — and ignore the weird glances she’s been getting — I take the opportunity to get a closer look at it, offering to get a plate of snacks for everyone if Blaise is good to watch Joss. He shoos me off with a request for a tray of fig pockets.

An actual tray. Like straight off the table.

I’m not doing that. That will absolutely get me in trouble.

The quilted Jugs logo is, as expected, incredible. From a distance, it looked like the team colors of ruby and saffron, lit with a spotlight to give it depth, but there aren’t extra lights on it. Joss has mastered creating shadows and texture out of solid fabrics.An even closer inspection reveals that it’s been quilted on one of those giant machines — longarms, I know they’re called now — with a pattern of vines and roses that Joss would have had to trace by hand instead of leaving to the computer to guide it through the machine.

On the bidding app, it’s described as a family stadium throw, with the thought that up to four fans can warm up under it during the colder games. It’s a nice thought, but I’m thinking it would be even better on the sidelines for some of us to huddle under in Buffalo in December, so I drop a bid of $5,000. The current price jumps from $2,400 to $5,100, which means at least one other person is recognizing how goddamn incredible this thing is.

It takes a bid of $7,100 for me to take the top position. I set a timer to check on it in an hour and head toward the hors d’oeuvres, but I’m intercepted by Emily Hess.

Obviously, I’m not a fan of interceptions.

“What is Jocelyn Page doing here?”

I swear the tone comes right from that speak-to-the-manager haircut, but I straighten myself up so I can look as down on Emily as much as I can. “You told me to get a date, so I got a date. In fact, you told me to get a date and then sent me straight to Joss. So if anything, you told me to ask Joss to be my date.”

“I told you to make sure she was alive, not to date her.”

“You said it wasn’t a proof-of-life check! I’m not dating her. Yet. But I’m working on it.”

Emily covers her face, no doubt smudging her makeup, but honestly? It had that aging-schoolteacher-who’s-trying-too-hard look to it, so it’s no tragedy. “No, you can’t date her. Seriously, Gabe. You can’t. And she can’t be here.”

“Why, because she’s the hired help?” I fire back, recalling how Joss said vendors aren’t invited to events. “Well, news flash, the entire team is hired help. The only difference is we were forced to be here. Did you see how much that quilt is going for now? My photo ops were fifty a pop. She’s going to make more than half the team combined.”

Emily’s shoulders sag. If she wasn’t trying to kick Joss out for the stupidest reason ever, I’d say she actually felt bad. “Joss is a really nice woman. I want the best for her. But she’s not going to have that here.”

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