Page 21 of Famous Last Words
God, I can’t believe I got myself into this mess.
CHAPTER 10
FRAN
I’ve only ever been to Madison Square Garden once, to see One Direction when I was fourteen. And that was understandably chaotic because, I mean,hello, it was One Direction.
You expect mayhem with a bunch of hysterical teenagers swooning over the biggest boy band in the world, but I certainly wasn’t expecting the same scene to be occurring outside the Garden for some silly little hockey game.
It’s legitimate chaos. I’m pushed and shoved by eager fans, shouted at by a group of frat-looking guys trying to get me to join in in some sort of war cry. It’s almost too much. I’m only thankful that once I pass through the overzealous throng crowding the main gates and show my pass to an official looking man that I spot Andy.
“Hey, you made it.” Andy tucks his phone in his pocket, his gaze doing a sweep of me.
“Hey.” With a reluctant smile, I remove my jacket, suddenly feeling very self-conscious withMASONsplayed across my back like a damn billboard.
Obviously picking up on my trepidation, Andy places his hand at the small of my back and leads me through a cordoned off doorway, and together we follow a long corridor before coming to the end where a woman wearing a pant suit greets us with a no-bullshit smile. She nods at Andy before scanning the barcode on my pass, directing us through another door.
“This way.” Andy points, and we continue down a hallway until we come to a set of doors that barely contains the commotion coming from the other side.
Andy pulls open one side of the double doors, and I’m immediately taken aback as the expanse of the MSG arena comes into view. The sounds, the smells, the dizzying view of what looks like a million people. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this.
“We’re just down this way.” Andy points down the steps before leading me about half way down the aisle, just a few rows behind the bench where I assume the players will sit.
“Hoffman!” A voice booms.
“Hi, Bob.” Andy shakes an older man’s hand. “How’s the wife?”
“Still alive.” The man smirks, surprising me with his words.
Andy laughs hollowly, and I can only assume—and hope—the man was joking.
The older man glances at me then, arching a bushy white brow. “And who do we have here?”
Andy places his hand on my shoulder. “Bob, this is Fran. Robbie Mason’s… girlfriend.”
Thankfully, I’m the only one who seems to notice the pause.
The man,Bob, stands then, holding a hand out for me. “Well, welcome to the New York Thunder, Fran. I’m Bob Oakley.”
I shake the man’s proffered hand, smiling up at him.
“We’re real excited for your boy to join us,” Bob says with a smirk. “You just make sure you keep him in line for us, won’t ya?”
I smile tightly.
“First time at a game, Fran?”
I nod, my eyes scanning the overwhelming sight. “Yes.”
“It’s a sell out.” Bob chuckles, indicating the crowd. “People love a comeback story.”
I don’t know if I like this man or not, but I assume he’s someone important, so I maintain the saccharine smile that makes my cheeks ache.
“Bob.” Andy nods, taking my elbow and leading me further along the row to our designated seats.
“That was Bob Oakley,” Andy murmurs as we take our seats. “He owns the franchise.”
I glance back at the older man who, on closer inspection, is sitting rather close to a woman at least half his age, her pert breasts pressed inappropriately against his arm as he leans in, whispering something in her ear that causes her to throw her head back and laugh.
