Page 21 of 1st and 10

Crue’s hand trembles in mine, which only partially relieves my nerves. Knowing he’s as nervous as I am, is comforting, but I still have bubble guts. I haven’t met Andres Abbott in person yet. He’s already offered me a generous contract as a community liaison, utilizing my degrees to interact with the public, assess their needs, and determine how best Abbott’s company and local farms can meet those needs. It’s a dream job, so naturally, I’m expecting him to rescind the offer over dinner then stick us with the enormous bill and ride off in a horse drawn carriage cackling like a madman down the street twiddling his handlebar mustache.

“I think we need to branch out in our movie choices. Disney’s villain portrayal is bleeding into real life.”

Crue stops on the sidewalk just outside the entrance to the expensive steakhouse. He slowly turns his head to look at me over his shoulder and lowers his voice to a whisper, “Are you expecting Abbott to don a long fur coat made from the skin of dogs, too?”

“I am now!” I hiss. He shakes his head, then fully faces me, drawing me into his arms.

“Shh. Shh. He’s a good guy. We’re just letting our imagination—”

“And movie villains.”

“And movie villains run wild. Worst case scenarios are helpful sometimes, but I think right now…only good things will come from this dinner.”

“He’s gonna pay right? It’s not that I feel entitled or anything, it’s just I can’t afford to eat here, and I really want to try one of their big steaks.” Crue chuckles into my hair, kissing me on the top of my head before pushing me away from him to look me in the eye. His smile is contagious, and I relax a little more.

“If he doesn’t, I got you covered. Order whatever you want, babe.” I lean up on my toes and kiss the underside of his jaw.

“Thanks, sugar daddy!”

Inside the restaurant, the host with wandering eyes leads us to the back of the main dining room. His stare lingers on Crue as he directs us to the booth, where Abbott and another gentleman are already seated. They both scoot out of the booth to greet us. I lean over to speak softly to the host, “I know he’s pretty, but he’s mine, so watch yourself.”

The host startles with a fast-forming grin. He fans himself dramatically, “Gurl, you let me know if you ever need a break, I’m happy to tag in.” He bows slightly with a wink and weaves his way through the full dining room back to his station.

“Everything alright?” Andres Abbott questions, his brow furrowed as he watches the host’s back.

“Yes, sir. Phia Kerr. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.” I hold out my hand and he takes it in a hearty shake.

“Phia. I feel like I know you already, you have an impressive academic resume.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Stop with the ‘sir’ shit. Andres is fine. Or Abbott.”

“Andres.”

“Phia, this is my best friend and one of my business partners—”

“Theodore Prokop. 2-time All-American, 1stoverall draft pick, 3-time Super Bowl Champion, NFL defensive player of the year, 3-time All Pro, Pittsburgh Hall of Honor, and NFL Hall of Fame inductee in his first eligible year.” I rattle off his stats, which is surprising because I’m standing in front of Theo Prokop! My dad is going to shit his pants when I tell him. I’m about to shit my own right now!

I swallow hard, feeling myself flush as the white noise settles and I realize the three of them are staring at me with their mouths open.

“I’ve never loved you more than I do at this exact moment.” Crue whispers reverently. He dips his head down to whisper, “I’m so fucking hard. Later…in front of the mirror…you’re gonna talk football to me while I pound inside—” I let out an embarrassing squeak and slap my hand over his mouth. Thankfully, Abbott and Prokop find it hilarious. I just hope they didn’t hear what he whispered.

I look at them with a sheepish smile. “My dad and I watch football together, occasionally.”

Prokop throws his head back and laughs, “Occasionally? Sure, we’ll go with that.” He motions to the table and the four of us take our seats. I grab the glass of ice water in front of me and drink half of it.

“Thank you both for meeting us on such short notice. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important?” Crue glances at me but maintains a straight face.

“Nothing we can’t finish up later.”

“Good.”

“Our parents reviewed the contracts you sent over.” Crue begins and I’m glad he knows what to do because I can’t stop staring at the two incredible and handsome professional athletes sitting across from me. “As did our lawyer—”

“Mrs. Haylee Dalton.” Abbott smirks. “We’ve had the pleasure of speaking with her.”

“Oh?” That’s strange, she’s not a corporate lawyer.