Chapter 20 Aria
Aria
Aria,
Thanks for being such a good sport (pun intended) about all of this. Especially when Enzo overdid it last night. I can only hope the quality of the pizza more than makes up for it.
Griff
Aria washes the jersey and even steams it in preparation for the game.
She can’t remember the last time she counted down to something so eagerly, but over the next five days, she slowly plans out the rest of her outfit as she marks off the time.
She also texts with Griffin every one of those five days.
He sends goofy locker room selfies and funny memes about old cartoon shows she’s never seen.
She sends cute cat pictures and eventually divulges that she’s been yearning to adopt a pair of kittens ever since the gala event.
Just go for it! I’ll cat-sit when you go on tour, Griffin offered.
I refuse to be an absentee cat mom, she replied.
After two days of texting that only ramped up in frequency—so much so that even phone-obsessed Bailey was giving her a hard time—they decided to meet up. Griffin rented out a movie theater outside of town, and it touched Aria so deeply, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.
They sat in the theater, lights on, the entire time, never getting to the part where they clicked on the movie.
Griffin told her all about his history in football, and although football wasn’t usually her thing, Aria sat rapt.
Her mind painted pictures of little Griffin, front teeth missing and tanned from hours in the sun, pulling on an oversized jersey.
He told her about his actual favorite foods—anything with a carb in it—and admitted his secret love for karaoke.
Aria snatched each tidbit of information and stored it in her mind like the precious treasure it was.
She didn’t hesitate before matching his candor.
Aria told him all about the awkward middle school years when her schoolmates teased her about her musical aspirations.
She told him about her secret love of British cozy murder mysteries, a fact even the scrappiest tabloids had yet to uncover.
Aria even told Griffin about how she’d paid to put Bailey through college—back before she really could afford to—because her parents could afford to even less.
It was as if in the dim light of the movie theater on the outskirts of town, one so infrequently visited that the owner permitted a last-minute full rental, all of the pretense fell away. Even once the manager came through and told them he was locking up for the day, Aria didn’t want to leave.
She wasn’t done hearing about Griffin.
Nevertheless, they reluctantly packed up. The next two days, they continued to message, then video call, frequently in stints between football practice and Aria’s meetings with set designers and wardrobe consultants.
On game day, Aria thrums with excitement.
She pulls on the gifted jersey that’s sat at the ready in her closet, relaxed-fit jeans, and tennis shoes with gold sparkles—to represent the Wardens even further.
She keeps her makeup and jewelry simple, pulls a Wardens ball cap down low in an attempt to stay under the radar, and heads for the stadium with her sister at her side.
They find the box easily with the help of security Griffin set up to meet them at the entrance.
Inside it’s like a small restaurant outfitted with various food stations and buffets, as well as a well-stocked bar.
“Didn’t Griffin say something about nachos?
” Bailey swivels her head, sporting her own Wardens fan wear, freshly purchased.
“That’s right!”
Before they can make it to the bar, a server greets them. “Miss Wilder, am I right?”
Part of Aria deflates, and she removes the cap, her golden curls spilling out and onto her shoulders. “Guess this wasn’t as good a disguise as I thought?”
The server smiles. “No, the hat worked well. It’s just that when you checked in, they notified me. Mr. Hayes asked that we take extra special care of you. I can show you to your seats, and then I hear nachos have been promised.”
“Wonderful, thank you.” Aria follows the server out of the enclosed box area and to the rows of seats in the open air.
He brings them to the front row of the section and points them in the direction of their seats. “What else can I bring you?”
Aria and Bailey order drinks. In only moments, a different staff member delivers them, and on the heels of that, the nachos are at their side. A pep band is blasting music at the end of the field, and Aria feels herself getting into the spirit of the game.
She thinks about Griffin. Does he get nervous before games like she does before shows?
His husky figure alone might suggest not, but Aria, knowing the rest of him—the tender, down-to-earth parts—might guess otherwise.
She hopes they win. She hopes it’s a good game.
Either way, she knows Griff will play his heart out.
Aria is bopping her head and munching on nachos—which are just as good as promised—when her phone rings. Kelsey’s name and photo appear on the screen. It’s probably about the commercial filming next week, so Aria picks up.
“Hey, Kels.”
“Aria! You’re at the game!”
Aria looks around. “Are you?”
“No, but there are photos of you online. Are we going off script? We didn’t coordinate this.”
“Well, we sort of accidentally promised it on The Late Night Show. We just got carried away with the act.” Aria’s chest hitches.
Something about calling it an “act” no longer sits right, but she forges on.
“It wouldn’t look right if I didn’t come through.
Plus, Bailey and I are just having fun and hanging out. There’s not much to it.”
“Well, that’s fabulous! If the two of you keep this up, we might not even have to schedule things moving forward.” Kelsey’s delight oozes in every word.
“Ha! Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“All right, I’ll let you go. Enjoy the game, and I’ll be in touch with more soon on day-of details for the commercial shoot.”
“Thanks!”
Aria says goodbye and disconnects. She turns to Bailey. “Do you think it’s weird that Griffin and I just sort of did this on our own?”
Bailey is in the middle of inserting an overly stacked chip into her mouth when Aria finishes the question, so in the natural pause, she considers it.
Bailey wipes her mouth. “No. It’s understandable that you’re actually getting to know each other, and offering these tickets to you is just a nice gesture.
It’s not like he bought them for you or went out of his way.
I’m sure it’s no more than telling the right person at practice the name to put on the list.”
Of course Bailey assumed that Aria wanted confirmation that their attending the game was just a regular part of this publicity setup, and usually this is what Aria would want.
Aria even phrased it to suggest that nothing about this scenario would be abnormal.
So why does her heart drop a little at the thought that Griffin inviting her here was an offhand, no-big-deal whim?
“You’re right,” Aria says. “He’s just doing his part to play along.”
Bailey slurps her soda. “Exactly. Just like you are. And you’re both so convincing! He’s a great actor for a football player.”
“Shhh,” Aria says. “You never know who’s listening in public.”
Bailey pulls back. “Sorry.”
Aria reaches out and squeezes her arm.
Aria knows it’s unwise to continue discussing this in public, but it only takes one glance around the box to see that all the other guests are still inside where the food is set up. The stadium is so loud, even without the game in action, that quiet conversation is hard to hear.
Maybe part of Aria didn’t want the conversation to continue.
Maybe she wanted to swim a little in the idea that the rapport being built between the two of them could be—at least in part—built on genuine feelings.
The pizza didn’t make up for the table setting at Enzo’s because Aria loved the table setting.
It made her bubble in a particular way that didn’t happen often.
For a woman who is constantly being wooed by brands, invited to the most desirable locations, and given access to the best of the best, something as simple as extra thought, extra care being put into considering what she might like for the evening, meant a lot.
This whole arrangement might be a publicity stunt, but Aria cannot deny the fact that Griffin Hayes is golden, through and through. And whoever he might take to Enzo’s—on a real date—will be a lucky woman.
Aria waits in the box until the stadium is cleared, and Bailey takes off to meet up with some friends for a dinner close by. The last to leave the box, Aria stops at the security post and asks for directions to the locker room.
The guard gives her a weary look, massaging his chin. “We’re really not supposed to give out that information. Security, you know. Plus, Coach runs a tight ship, which means no friends and family in the locker room.”
Aria puts on her most dazzling look. “I know. Trust me, I get it. I promise I won’t go in. I just want to see him before he leaves.”
The security guard’s face falls into a smile. “For you? Take the freight elevator to P2, turn left, then fourth door on the right. But don’t tell them it was me who sent you.”
Aria yelps in delight, then reaches into her bag for a business card that she hands off. “This is my manager. Email her, and she’ll set you up with free tickets to my next local show.”
She doesn’t wait for a reply before waving as she darts off, reciting the directions in whispers under her breath. Aria follows every step, and the rumble of voices that flows out of the locker room door is confirmation that she has arrived in the correct spot.
A few moments later, Griffin strides out, shoulder to shoulder and deep in conversation with another player who Aria can only guess is Elliott. Griffin stops in his tracks when he looks up and meets her eyes. Elliott observes the interaction and hurries a goodbye before continuing on.
She dashes up to him and wraps her hands around his arms. “That touchdown in the fourth quarter? You are Superman in real life!”
Griffin’s face cracks into a deep grin. “I’m so glad you came. I was thinking about you while I was on the field. I even tried to spot you in the box.”
Aria wiggles her shoulders to show off the jersey. “You couldn’t see number 13?”
Griffin’s cheeks flush pink. “I’m honored that you wore it, but no, I couldn’t see from the field. No eagle-eye vision here.”
“Do you have to rush off?” Hope hums inside Aria as the voice in her mind says, Please say no, please say no.
“It depends. I’m definitely not hanging around for extra PT, but if you’re saying you’re free . . . ?” His brows raise as he poses the question.
“For you? I’ll clear my schedule.”
“Perfect. A lot of the guys will be at Enzo’s, so let’s do something else.”
Aria smiles to herself as she and Griffin navigate the inner tunnels of the stadium, working out their plans, transportation logistics, and timing.
She played it like she had a schedule to clear, but the truth is that she left it wide open.
Wide open in hopes that a moment like this might come together.