Page 37 of Jilted

“Lunch?”

She smiled. “I’m working at the bar.”

“If you weren’t?”

She chuckled and swiped the key from my hand. “Then I probably would be sleeping through lunch, if you weren’t up here waking me.”

I winked. “That’s not a no.”

“Take good care of my dad, Wilder.”

“You got it. And I’ll see you soon.”

“I can’t wait to see when that is, since you seem to show up when I least expect it.”

“So, which one are you interested in?” Harry gestured to the field.

I pointed. “Number twenty-two, Leo Goncalo. He’s a walk-on, didn’t even play in high school or in an organized league. Only experience was playing with his friends on weekends. But he hit the genetic lottery for size and speed, and he has the balls of a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

Harry lifted his hand to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the sun to watch the action on the field. “Other people interested in him?”

I nodded. “That’s why I asked his dad to meet me today. Dad’s a tax lawyer, but he’s acting as his agent, too. Not smart, if you ask me, but trust is an issue when too many people are suddenly knocking at your door, so I get it. When agents and scouts started lining up two deep at my high school games, all talking shit about the other teams, I had no idea who to trust, either.”

“I bet.”

“Leo already has offers, and I don’t even have a team yet to extend an offer to join. So my chances aren’t great, but I wanted to let them know I’m interested and what my plans are if the vote comes through next week.”

Rutgers scored, and the crowd went crazy. It reminded me of my college days. After that, we were both glued to the field, cheering Leo on. At halftime, we went up to the club lounge and had a beer.

“So tell me,” Harry said. “Are you interested in my daughter, or you just like taking bored old men out?”

I smiled. “I like Sloane, yes. But I would’ve invited you even if she wasn’t your daughter.”

“Why is that?”

I shrugged. “My dad taught me to always do right by the people who put their life on the line to protect us. Buy a cop a beer at the bar, pick up the restaurant check for an army private home on leave.”

Harry nodded. “I like your dad.”

“We had a tough go for a while after he and my mom divorced, but he’s always given me good advice, especially on what’s important in life.”

Harry sipped his beer, which seemed like a difficult task with the way his hand shook. He noticed me looking. “My daughter’s always trying to get me to use a straw. But it’s hard to look tough sipping beer out of a straw, don’t you think?”

I laughed. “Probably.”

“She’s bought me a dozen special cups—ones with discreet lids inside, handles that rotate to support the tremors—but I prefer the fill-three-quarters method.”

I shrugged. “Whatever works.”

Harry set his beer on the bar. “I never liked that Josh.”

“Who?”

“Sloane’s ex.”

“Oh.”

“Didn’t like him from the beginning. A few months after they started dating, Sloane told me she wanted me to get to know him better. So I took him to the gun range for some target practice one afternoon, a place where a lot of cops go. Dumbass thought it was a good place to talk about gun control.” Harry shook his head. “He’s lucky I didn’t bring my gun to the church with the shit he pulled.”

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