Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
T he next afternoon, Michael was in his office at the restaurant trying to get some paperwork done. He’d been at it for several hours and had barely made a dent. He couldn’t concentrate worth a damn. His thoughts kept straying to Reese, wondering where she was and what she was doing, wondering if she missed him as much as he missed her.
Needing a mental break, he rose from his desk and left the room, walking down a long hall toward the noisy hub of activity that was music to a restaurateur’s ears.
A young waitress bustled toward him on her way to the kitchen, flashing him a bright but harried smile. “Hey, boss. It’s a madhouse out there.”
“I know.” Michael smiled. “You’re doing good, Dearica. Keep it up.”
She beamed under his praise before hurrying along to the kitchen.
Reaching the end of the corridor between the bar and dining area, Michael propped his shoulder against the wall and surveyed the bustling scene. They had a big lunch crowd, every table and booth taken. There were people everywhere eating, talking, laughing while servers bustled between tables balancing large trays of food and drinks.
Quentin and Lexi sat in a corner booth enjoying each other’s meals. Every so often, Lexi would throw back her head and burst into a peal of laughter. Quentin would grin as he watched her, leaning back in the booth with one arm draped along the cushion’s headrest. He loved to make her laugh. Always had.
Michael’s gaze was drawn to the front entrance as Mason came striding through the door with his friend, a young hockey phenom named Reid Holden.
He and Mason met at the ESPYs last year, where both won awards. They’d hit it off at the afterparty and became fast friends. As the baby of the family, Mason welcomed any opportunity to mentor younger players. He’d paid his dues and now commanded nothing but respect as one of the league’s top wide receivers and a future Hall of Famer. As such, he had plenty of wisdom and experience to impart.
Mason spotted Michael across the room and pointed him out to Reid before they started making their way over. They were playing in a celebrity golf charity tournament tomorrow. After that they were off to Vegas for a wild weekend with a bunch of other dudes.
“Yo what’s up, big cuz?” Mason playfully shadowboxed Michael before introducing him to Reid.
The kid was tall, no less than six-four. Messy dark hair fell over the bluest eyes Michael had ever seen. A crazy shade of blue not found in nature.
“Good to finally meet you, Reid,” Michael said, shaking his hand.
“Same here, man. Heard nothing but great things about you.”
“Likewise.” Michael grinned. “Congratulations on your phenomenal rookie year. You put up some insane numbers. Hella impressive.”
“Thanks, man,” Reid said with a rueful tilt of his mouth. “Would’ve been sweeter if we made the playoffs.”
“It’s all good. You and that Swedish kid were tearing shit up all season.”
“Sandstr?m? Yeah, he’s dope,” Reid agreed. “He definitely deserved to win the Calder.”
“For sure. But that rookie of the year race was pretty close. The trophy could’ve gone to either one of you.”
“Maybe.” Reid hitched his chin at Michael. “So you watch hockey?”
“Sure do.”
“Mike was a baller back in the day,” Mason elaborated, “so he watches all kinds of sports. He appreciates raw talent and dominance at any level. ”
“Awesome.” Reid looked pleased. Hockey was clearly his favorite subject. When he talked about it, his face lit up.
“Don’t trip about missing the playoffs,” Mason consoled, circling back to Reid’s earlier comment. “The team’s rebuilding, getting the right pieces in place. Making the playoffs won’t happen overnight. But y’all are definitely in a much better position after drafting that bruiser from Vegas.”
“Brassard, right?” Michael said. “Yeah, that boy’s a beast.”
“Hell yeah. I’m glad we grabbed him at number one.” Reid grinned. “Now if we could just get Duchene as a free agent, we’d be fucking unstoppable.”
“Oh, most definitely. Dude is a sniper,” Mason agreed. “I know you said he’s not happy in Edmonton. But the Oilers ain’t giving him up without a shit ton of draft picks.”
“I know,” Reid conceded. “I’ve been lobbying for him. I’m not giving up till he’s rocking a Rebels jersey.”
Michael chuckled. “I’m surprised you want Hunter Duchene as a teammate,” he teased. “Wasn’t he your college rival? When you were at Boston College and he was at Yale?”
“Oh, that’s right,” Mason said, laughing. “I remember watching that game when Reid and Hunter got chippy. Got all up in each other’s faces, almost dropped the gloves and squared off. They called it the battle of the captains.”
Reid chuckled, crossing his tattooed arms. “Wasn’t really a rivalry, though,” he said with a shrug and a cocky grin. “We only played Yale twice in four years, and we beat ’em both times.”
Michael and Mason laughed.
Reid scraped his hair back from his face, glancing around at the crowd. “Mason wasn’t exaggerating about the restaurant being popular. It’s packed in here.” He grinned at Michael. “Good problem to have though, right?”
“Exactamundo.” Michael clapped him on the shoulder. “You hungry?”
Mason snort-laughed. “This boy stays hungry. I’ve seen him put away two whole pizzas by himself. Last night when we had dinner at Ma’s, he inhaled three plates of food and still had room for dessert. Ma was on cloud nine.”
“I bet,” Michael chuckled, looking around for an open table. After spotting a couple of suits settling their bill, he motioned to one of his waiters, gesturing toward Mason and Reid .
Amari nodded and mouthed, Gotcha, boss .
“We’ll get that table cleared for you and Reid,” Michael said. “Why don’t you grab a seat at the bar while you wait. Drinks are on the house. Lunch, too, of course.”
“Aye, that’s what’s up, Mike.” Grinning, Mason dapped him up and then playfully slung an arm around Reid’s neck. “C’mon, youngblood. Let’s go get blitzed.”
Michael tsk-tsked. “Not very role model-ish, Mason.”
He tossed a laugh over his shoulder as he and Reid headed to the bar, sauntering past a group of attractive twentysomethings on their lunch break. When the girls saw Mason and Reid, all laughter and chatter stopped. Forks and drinks suspended in midair, they stared at the two star athletes. When Mason winked at them, they burst into breathy giggles, craning their necks to follow the fellas’ path across the room.
Stopping at Quentin and Lexi’s corner booth, Mason swiped the last stuffed mushroom off their appetizer plate before introducing them to Reid.
Lexi almost did a spit-take. Putting her drink down, she delicately dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. Then she smiled demurely and slid her hand forward to shake Reid’s. When he bent to kiss the back of her hand, she giggled like a schoolgirl while batting her lashes up at him.
Quentin scowled.
Michael had to laugh at Reid pulling a Mason move—the ol’ back-of-the-hand-kiss-with-direct-eye-contact combo. The kid was definitely enrolled in the Mason Wolf School of Pimping.
Michael’s phone buzzed in his back pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen, his pulse leaping when he saw a text from Reese.
Hi.
A smile wreathed his lips.
Hi. What’re you up to?
Waiting for Samara and Taylor to pick me up. They invited me to their yoga class .
Michael smiled. He loved that Reese had bonded with his in-laws. Samara and Taylor were amazing women, and he appreciated them even more for welcoming Reese into the fold. They would be a wonderful support system for her if she and Michael ever?—
Reese texted back, breaking his train of thought—and probably not a minute too soon.
How’s your day going?
He was crazy about her, head over fucking heels. But he couldn’t afford to start thinking about their future, daydreaming about the possibilities. Not until her boyfriend was out of the picture, a distant memory.
Good. Been busy.
Dots danced on the screen, then disappeared. He stared down at them, waiting to see what she would say.
You seem distracted. I’ll let you go.
Don’t. The protest surged up from deep inside. His thumb hovered over the button to call her, to hear her voice, to make her laugh.
But he held back, texting instead:
Have fun with the girls.
I’m sure I will.
He stood there staring at the screen, calling himself all kinds of an idiot.
“Mikeee!” a deep voice boomed across the restaurant, causing heads to turn and warm laughter to break out.
Michael tucked his phone away, watching in amused disbelief as Manning came swaggering toward him, broad shoulders swaying from side to side. His tie hung askew around his neck, and he had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.
“Yo.” Michael hitched his chin at him. “Why you rolling up in my restaurant causing a commotion? What’s?— ”
Manning grabbed him by both sides of his head and boisterously kissed him on the cheek like something out of a mafia flick.
“We’re having a girl!” he announced.
“For real? Aw man, congratulations!” Michael pulled him into a backslapping hug that Manning returned, his body vibrating with ecstatic laughter. After exchanging a few more thumping back slaps, they let go of each other and grinned.
“I thought you guys wanted to wait to find out. What changed your mind?”
Manning grinned. “It was an accident. During Taylor’s ultrasound this morning, the technician slipped up and called the baby ‘she.’ Taylor squealed. I jumped to my feet. The girl started apologizing profusely, but we were so damn happy we didn’t even care. We just started hugging and crying— er, I mean, Taylor was crying. I was just?—”
Michael laughed. “Don’t even try it. You know you were crying, too.”
Manning beamed, on top of the world. He and Taylor had been through hell to find their way back to each other. No one deserved more happiness than them.
Grinning, Michael affectionately patted Manning’s cheek. “So you’re about to be a girl dad, huh?”
“Yessiree.” Manning grinned even harder. “You know I love my little roughhousers. But there’s just something about having a mini Tay Tay running around. Just melts my heart, know what I’m saying?”
Michael smiled. “That little girl’s gonna have you wrapped around her finger.”
“I know,” Manning agreed on a sigh of defeat. “Baby girl’s gonna be spoiled rotten.”
“Thoroughly rotten. Have you guys picked out a name?”
“Yeah. Malia.”
“Malia.” Michael’s smile softened. “That’s beautiful. Good choice.”
“We think so, too.” Manning shoved his hands in his pockets and bounced on his heels like he couldn’t stand still.
Manning chuckled. “Did you see Pipsqueak? He’s here with Reid. Go say hello while I check on things in the kitchen.”
“Aight.” Whistling cheerfully, Manning sauntered off to the dining room while Michael headed to the kitchen. He was prowling around inspecting plated meals when his phone buzzed .
He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the screen. His face broke into a grin when he saw the profile picture of him and Mama Wolf. It was taken during a family visit to her home in Savannah. He was nine that summer, and in the photo, he and his great-grandmother were sitting on her big wraparound porch. She was hugging him, squeezing him hard enough to make him laugh. Every time he saw the photo, he could almost smell the cinnamon and roses on her skin, could almost feel the sultry Savannah breeze.
He thumbed the answer button as he left the noisy kitchen. “Hey, Mama Wolf,” he said affectionately. “How you doing?”
“I’m good, baby.” The familiar warmth of her voice flooded his ear. “We’re on our way to a children’s hospital, so I can’t talk long. I just had to call and tell you that I was able to watch your season premiere.”
“Yeah? What’d you think?”
“Oh, you already know what I think. It was wonderful , baby,” she said, a thread of excitement in her voice. “Your new apprentice is such a delightful young lady. I’m dying to learn more about her.”
“Don’t ever say you’re dying, Mama. You’ll make me panic.”
She cackled. “Hush, boy. You know what I meant.”
Michael grinned, walking back into his office and dropping into the chair behind his desk. “What do you want to know about Reese? She’s an ob-gyn from Houston. Her parents have been happily married forty-six years. She has a younger sister that she adores. She volunteers at a battered women’s shelter. She?—”
“Makes you smile,” Mama Wolf said softly. “She makes you laugh. She makes you feel like a teenager again. And when you look at her, Michael, she makes you wonder just where she’s been all your life.”
Michael felt his throat tighten with emotion. “You got all that from watching an hourlong show?”
“That and more.” He could hear the smile in her voice.
He was almost relieved when Manning came through the door, laughing as he plopped down in the visitor’s chair facing Michael.
“That white boy must like sistas, the way he’s— Oh my bad, I didn’t notice you were on the phone.”
“Is that my Manny?” Mama Wolf asked excitedly.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll put him on the phone. ”
“Please do. But just know we’re not done with this conversation. And Michael?”
“Yes, Mama?”
“I can’t wait to meet her.”
That made him smile. “Love you, Mama.”
“Love you too, baby. So very, very much.”
Manning was already reaching for the phone, practically snatching it out of Michael’s hand in his eagerness to share his good news. “I’ve got a big surprise for you, Mama Wolf. A Christmas in July present.” He paused for dramatic effect. “We’re having a girl!”
Michael could hear Mama Wolf’s ear-splitting squeal through the phone.
Manning laughed, listening to her ecstatic stream of hallelujahs and God is good before he spoke again. “We found out this morning. I made Mom and Dad promise to let me tell you the news.” He paused, chuckling. “Of course. You know how they are.”
Michael found himself tuning out the conversation, thinking instead about Reese and the things his great-grandmother had said.
Eventually, Manning ended the call and passed the phone back to him. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
“What?”
Manning grinned smugly, making a show of buffing his nails on his shirt. “Since I’ll be the first to give Mama Wolf a great-great-granddaughter, I’m gonna be her new favorite.”
Michael snorted. “You wish.”
“We’ll see.” Manning winked. He was every bit as competitive as Mason. Maybe even more so, because he’d had an eight-year head start.
Michael leaned back in his seat. “What were you saying about Reid earlier? Something about him liking sistas?”
“Yeah, man. He’s out there flirting like crazy with Lexi, and Quentin is not having it.” Manning cracked up, shaking his head. “Pipsqueak better get his boy before some shit goes down.”
Michael scowled. “Q better chill. I’m trying to run a respectable establishment here. Can’t be having no fights breaking out.”
Manning cackled. “Dude is tripping. I haven’t seen him acting this possessive over Lexi since college, when he used to cockblock her at the club. The way he’s seething out there is kinda sus. ”
“I know,” Michael agreed. “Honestly, bruh, if I didn’t know better…”
They looked at each other. Then burst into hysterical laughter.
When the hilarity had died down, Manning leaned back in the chair and propped his big feet on the corner of the desk. When he crossed his ankles, the polished gleam of his John Lobbs caught the light.
“Speaking of possessive dudes…”
Michael braced himself. He knew what was coming.
“The other night. You and Reese on that dance floor…” A slow, knowing grin spread across Manning’s face. “Somebody’s falling in love,” he singsonged.
Michael frowned, heat crawling up his neck. “Don’t start.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Michael deflected the remark. “Get your feet off my desk.”
Manning ignored him, mischief dancing in his dark eyes. “You got it bad, bruh. Everybody can see it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Michael grumbled darkly. “At the end of the day, she still has a boyfriend.”
“Are they engaged?”
“No, but that’s not the point. I don’t want to be that guy?—”
“A guy hopelessly in love with the most incredible woman he’s ever met?”
Michael held Manning’s gaze for a long moment, then looked away and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t, not really.
Manning clasped his hands behind his head, studying Michael across the desk. “I know what you’re going through. Don’t forget Taylor was dating that asshole when she came to town that summer.”
Michael grunted. “I remember.”
“So you remember how messed up I was. How it drove me out of my mind to see them together, knowing she belonged with me.”
Michael frowned. “The difference is, you and Taylor had history. You were childhood sweethearts. She was the love of your life and you were hers. You were soulmates who belonged together.”
Manning gave him a steady look. “Who says you and Reese aren’t soulmates?”
A spike of pure longing speared through Michael’s chest. Clenching his jaw, he cut his eyes away to stare out the window. The familiar view of Peachtree Street suddenly seemed foreign. Like he’d experienced an internal tectonic shift and nothing would ever be the same again.
“I can see you’re feeling conflicted,” Manning observed. “You’re in a tough spot, and I don’t pretend to have all the answers. All I know is she’s here with you, not her boyfriend. Without being privy to their relationship, I can almost guarantee it’s on its last leg. How’re you going to feel if you let her get away, then a year or two from now, you find out she’s with someone new? That she broke up with ol’ boy because she didn’t love him, and you gave her up for nothing? How’re you going to feel if you find out she married someone else because the man she really wanted was too proud or too noble or too scared to fight for her?”
Michael met his cousin’s direct gaze and saw deep understanding there. They’d always engaged in games of one-upmanship, but at the end of the day they were family, and they would always have each other’s back.
Manning said quietly, “I’ve never seen you back down from a fight, Mike. Don’t start now.”