Page 8 of Playing for Keeps
She gives a quick nod and walks over to the valet stand. I catch the way the guy behind the counter can’t stop staring at her. Not that I blame him; she looks stunning. And eventhough I’ve known her forever, there’s something about tonight that feels… different. Like I’ve missed something about her until now. Either that, or I’m just seriously grateful she showed up for me. Maybe it’s both.
Once her car is brought around, I guide her through the city to my apartment building, handing her my access fob for the underground garage when we arrive. As the roller doors rise, she drives in, and I gesture to a few empty spots on the left.
“You can park over here,” I tell her.
She nods, and I can’t help but smile as she sticks her tongue out slightly in concentration while parking.
“That was seriously nerve-wracking,” she says with a laugh, cutting the engine. “I think some of these cars are worth more than my entire house.”
“Maybe one or two,” I tease, giving her a wink. “I’ve always had a weakness for nice cars.”
Her eyes go wide as she glances around. “Wait, these areallyours?”
“Yep. Guilty pleasure,” I admit.
She grins. “So, which one’s your favorite?”
I shake my head. “That’s like asking me to pick my favorite sibling. I can’t.”
She laughs. “Fair enough.”
“What about you? Which one do you like?”
She doesn’t hesitate. “The red one. You can’t have a Ferrari in any other color.”
I chuckle. “You can. I’ve got one in black too.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course you do. My car looks ridiculous parked next to all these.”
I shrug. “They all get you from point A to point B.”
“True. You just look a whole lot better doing it in one ofthose.”
My gaze lingers on her for a moment, and I can’t help thinking, in that dress, she’d look good driving anything. “Come on. The bar’s just around the corner. We’ll grab your bag when we get back.”
Ten minutes later, I’m holding the door open toOpulent, a sleek wine bar with a private upstairs area where I know we won’t be interrupted. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the fans, especially the kids, but sometimes it’s nice to just be off the radar.
“This place is gorgeous,” Ivy says as she steps inside beside me.
“The team comes here a lot,” I explain. “There’s a private lounge upstairs where we can kick back.”
I place a hand on her lower back, guiding her toward a staircase tucked in the back. A guy standing at the bottom gives me a nod and lifts the rope to let us through. When we reach the top, I motion toward a table and follow as Ivy walks over and takes a seat. I sit down opposite her.
Within moments, a server appears at our table.
“What can I get you to drink?” she asks, her eyes flicking between me and Ivy.
“You like champagne, right?” I ask Ivy.
“Um… yeah, but you don’t have to–”
“We’ll take a bottle,” I say, cutting her off gently and directing the order to the server.
She gives a polite nod and disappears.
Ivy leans in as soon as she’s gone. “Wyatt, you didn’t have to do that. A bottle of champagne? That’s probably crazy expensive.”
“It’s a thank you,” I tell her. “You drove all this way and saved me from a night of small talk with Cleo and whoever she wanted to parade in front of me. Plus, I narrowly avoided dinner with someone who looked like she planned to have me for dessert.”
