12. Cassandra
I washedmy hands and splashed cold water on my face. The weather was a balmy seventy degrees, but my body, acclimated to New England fall temperatures, hadn’t gotten the memo we lived in the South yet. And while at least some of his teammates knew Diego and I were dating for show, his attentiveness during the picnic had me even warmer.
I took a deep breath, catching my reflection in the mirror. Flushed cheeks, tousled hair, a sparkle in my eyes. At least I could play the part of Diego’s girlfriend well enough, though I didn’t see the need at this party. Most of his teammates knew the score. They knew that Diego and I were nothing but friends parading around as a couple. A fact that should have made me feel out of place. Instead, I’d been welcomed like I was supposed to be there.
Blotting my face, I threw the soft white hand towel into a wicker basket and returned to the party. With Diego nowhere to be found on a quick sweep, I made my way to the bar. No more rum and cokes for me. The two I’d already drank had me feeling flushed. And the weather. Not Diego. Or at least, only a little.
“Water, please. Sparkling, if you have it.”
The bartender poured me a glass, garnishing the glass with a twist of lime. I thanked him and found an empty, standing-height bar table where I could wait until Diego found me again.
“Oh, are you Cassandra?” A woman stopped short on her way to the bar, an empty glass in her hand.
“Um, yeah.”
“Lena, Noa’s fiancée.” She smiled brightly, green eyes glowing with earnest warmth, as she offered her hand.
I shook it, eyes jumping to her other hand and the massive rock she toted on it. “Noa’s fiancée. Lucky lady. He came on the ghost tour with us last night. What a sweetheart.”
Her cheeks flushed. “He’s the best. And I’m furious I wasn’t invited. I love a good ghost story.”
“Well, it was my first, so I doubt it was very good, but any time you want to come along, I’ll save a spot for you.”
“I’m going to take you up on it.” Lena set her empty glass on the table. “Diego sent me to introduce myself and let you know he just had to step away for a second. Coach Mack does a pep talk for the players. It rarely takes long, and it gives me a chance to chat with you, one on one.”
“Interview me?” I asked with a grin.
“Impress you. Convince you to be my friend.” She winced. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s a real young team. Most of the guys are single and like to mingle, maybe a bit too much.”
“Lots of turnover?”
She laughed. “Oh god. Don’t get me started. Last season, Trent shackled me with a new girlfriend nearly every week. I am taking the reins this season and finding a friend of my own this season.”
“And you chose me? I’m flattered.”
“Well, Diego told me about your…” She glanced around and leaned in. “Unique situation, so at least you’ll hang around for the season. And as soon as he said you ran a ghost tour, I was sold. I can’t hang out with another person who just takes pictures of food and makes me spend thirty minutes snapping pictures of them in front of walls in varying shades of pink.”
“That’s oddly specific,” I giggled. “You’d think Trent would have handled those duties.”
“Not the night before the game.” She cocked her head. “You know the rules, right?”
“We have rules, too?”
Her laughter floated over the noise of the party. “Sort of. Not really, but the players get a hotel the night before games and spouses, girlfriends, friends aren’t allowed. They’re sequestered. Which, for home games, isn’t a big deal, but sucks on away weekends.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. We can’t even fly out with the team, which isn’t awful, but after a couple of weekends, it gets really lonely. Noa thought you and I would hit it off.”
“Noa seems like he has pretty good judgment.”
“He hasn’t steered me wrong yet. So, you’re going to the opening game, right?”
Diego and I hadn’t actually talked about the game. Hell, beyond signing the NDA, we hadn’t really hammered out what our plan was. Be seen together? Not that the picnic would help with that, all things considered. “I’m not sure. Maybe?”
“Absolutely,” Diego answered, sliding in behind me with Noa. “If you’re free.”
“Yep. I’ve got a shift at the bar on Saturday, but I should be decent late Sunday morning.”
Noa wrapped his arm over Lena’s shoulder, kissing the top of her head. My chest pulled as Lena laid her head back against him, tilting her face up with a beaming smile. Had I ever been that comfortable with someone? Probably not.
Casual relationships suited me fine, anyway. Since dropping out of college, I hadn’t stayed anyplace long enough to date anyone seriously. Instead, I scratched an itch for human contact with temporary flings. A recently-divorced bartender in Boston, looking for a rebound fling. A drummer for an electronic rock band in Amherst who let me tag along for a month up through Maine. A coworker in Salem who moved out west to find acting jobs after Halloween. I collected them like badges, the memory more permanent than the person.
Then, I’d run into someone like Lena, or Becca, or my parents, people so deeply in love that their very home was with another person. And I’d wonder if I wasn’t missing out.
But what could I offer? A string of dead-end minimum wage jobs, an inability to stay in a single place, a couch in an apartment? Who wanted that?
No one in their right mind.
“Good,” Diego infiltrated my thoughts. “Because I already grabbed you a ticket. Lena, you’ll pick Cassandra up and show her the ropes?”
“You didn’t tell me I had to learn ropes,” I said on an exhausted sigh, draining the last of my water. “Please tell me this pre-game involves keg stands.”
“No keg stands, but we had an ice luge once,” Lena said. “I’ll pick you up and show you how to navigate game day. First game of the season is usually crazy.”
“Wait.” Noa’s eyes narrowed, craning his head down at his fiancée. “Ice luge? When? Who? I thought you all had a couple of drinks and snacks before the games, not a party.”
Lena playfully smacked Noa’s arm. “It’s none of your business what we do before the game starts.”
“It is if you have ice luges.”
Lena ignored Noa’s grumbled response. “You’ll get to meet the cheerleaders, too. They’re super sweet.”
“The cheerleaders hang out there too?” Noa’s gaze shifted to Diego, brow furrowed.
“They usually swing by, especially if there are any VIP guests. Coach Mack hosts the tent, and the owners like to bring their guests by before going up to the box seats.” Lena’s eyes gleamed. “Like last year, the Fairbanks brothers hung out with us for a couple of hours. I had no idea until Jace asked me if I knew where the napkins were.”
“The Fairbanks Brothers? Seriously?” I set down my empty water on the table beside us.
The game of football had never done much for me. A staple in my family home on holidays, it’d always been a background distraction. Becca had been a fan of the sport, but I’d only ever been mildly interested in the better-looking players and antagonizing my family by pretending to be a Buffalo fan. I didn’t actually care about any of it. But, if I was going to meet gorgeous celebrities like the Fairbanks Brothers, that was another story.
“No,” Diego said, bringing my fantasy to an abrupt halt.
“No what?”
“Never mind. No tickets for you. That look on your face is making me nervous.”
“What look?” I feigned innocence, as if I hadn’t been picturing Jace Fairbanks and me in a hushed conversation. “I don’t have a look.”
“You look like you’re already planning how to let me down gently after you seduce a Fairbanks brother.”
“I think one’s married,” I said, tapping my chin.
“No pre-gaming for Cassandra,” Diego said with an air of finality.
“As if you can stop me,” I challenged.
* * *
“So, what’s the plan now? Night club? Bar? Rave?” I asked, as we waited for the valet to pull the car around.
After two full plates of barbecue, dancing was completely out of the question. Still, I couldn’t shake the memory of Diego’s surge of jealousy as Trent flirted.
Okay, maybe the jealousy was a projection, but I liked the feeling, anyway.
Diego barked out a laugh, shaking his head as the car pulled up. “A phone call to your sister.”
I frowned. “That doesn’t sound like fun at all.”
“Well, she left a message on my phone this morning, and it wasn’t friendly. I have a feeling she saw the disc golf photos.”
“Those were completely innocent,” I argued as Diego opened the passenger door. I buckled in while he walked around to the driver’s side.
“And what about the next set of photographs? I’m not saying we’re going to make out on the field, but we are going to make it clear we’re dating.”
My cheeks burned, and I opened the center console for some consolation candy. A bag of Sour Patch Kids sat on top.
“What is this? You stocked some better candy?” I opened the bag, popping one in my mouth before offering the bag to Diego.
He shook his head. “I might have made a convenience store run and diversified my selection. Now, about calling your sister.”
“Fine,” I relented, comforting myself with sugar. “Let me do most of the talking. She might like you better, but she has to forgive me.”
“I’m certainly not fighting you.” Diego worked his jaw, glancing over. “So, should I pull off at a coffee shop or do we…”
“Oh, let’s call from her apartment. She’ll hate that.”
“I thought we’re trying not to antagonize her?”
I frowned. “Oh, I’m going to antagonize her. That’s my right as a younger sister.”
Diego shook his head, turning right at a red light rather than straight for my apartment. “Nope. I’m vetoing this idea.”
“Vetoing?”
“Yep. We’re going to my place. Neutral ground.”
“You think taking me to your place is ‘neutral ground’? Becca is going to freak out.”
“I think she’d freak out more if I was just hanging out at her old apartment. She wouldn’t even let me know where she lived when she trained me in Alabama. The only reason I found out in Virginia was Cal invited me over for dinner.”
He had a point. Becca valued her privacy and having Diego in her apartment, even if she didn’t live there anymore, would start the conversation on the wrong foot.
“Will she know it’s your place?”
He shook his head. “We’ll sit on the back porch. She won’t have a clue.”
“Smart move.” I narrowed my eyes. “Are you nervous?”
His broad shoulders inched up his neck, the tightness transferring into his hand as he drove. He held the wheel at an unnatural angle. A faint dimple in his cheek and a steeliness in his eyes. “What? Me? Why?”
“I don’t know,” I drawled. “Because you fear my sister?”
His hand moved to the center console and dug around for a Twizzler.
“Absolutely not. Maybe. A little.” The tension drained from his shoulders. “She’s really intimidating.”
“You pay her to train you. What’s there to be nervous about?”
“That she’ll get pissed I roped you into my problems and she won’t train me anymore?”
I bobbled my head. “Alright, fair. That’s a legitimate fear. Becca really loves me. Like really loves me. More than football, maybe.”
His lip quivered. “You don’t seriously believe that, do you?”
“I refuse to answer that frankly rude question,” I said, stuffing the remaining candy into the console and closing it. “Now, where does the famous Diego Salazar live? A castle? With a moat?”
“You’re about to be incredibly disappointed.”
“Disappointed? In your place? I dated a guy who lived in a van.”
“And that wasn’t a deal killer?”
I laughed. “I mean, I had my reservations, but the view.”
“Under a bridge, down by the river?”
“Waterfront property. Privacy. He even had a couch he could crash on in the city.”
“So, a second home, too?” Diego whistled. “How long did that relationship last?”
“Not quite three months. Turns out, one of his roommates at the place with the couch was also his girlfriend.”
“Ouch, how’d you find that out?”
“We both went to his gig the same night. Apparently, he thought I was at work.”
Diego grimaced. “I’ve got one better.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.”
“One of my first years in the NFL, this model asked me out. She had just walked Fashion Week, hung out with all these celebrities, and she showed up at a game and asked me out.”
“Oh, no,” I laughed. “Pursued by a model? How horrible.”
“Hold on,” Diego laughed. “Her agent talks to my agent, and we make plans to get dinner in New York. I suggest a couple of places but she’s insistent we go to a specific restaurant. She doesn’t want me to pick her up. She wants to meet me there. Which is all fine. A little weird, but fine.
“I show up and she’s late, so I wait at the bar. While I’m waiting, this actor sits down beside me. We recognize each other but don’t really say anything, just nod and sip our drinks. Twenty minutes later, she shows up and she’s all over me. Kissing me hello, putting her arm around me, practically sitting on my lap.
“The actor keeps his eyes glued to the back of the bar. He’s so focused on the bar that it becomes obvious that he’s making a point to not look at us. He drains the last of his drink and throws a hundred-dollar bill on the bar. Then, he looks straight at me and says, ‘Can I give you a tip about dating her? Don’t let her have access to your calendar.’ Apparently, she’d asked me out just to make her ex jealous.”
“Ouch. So, I’m not the first person you’ve faked a relationship with.”
“I didn’t actually know I was faking a relationship with her.”
“You know I’m going to go home and search until I find the name of this model, right?”
“I’m well aware. Good luck. I dated a lot of models that year.” Diego pulled off the main road and into a subdivision with little cookie cutter cottages lined up in rows. Each house, a replica of the previous in varying shades of yellow, blue, and brown.
“Is this where you live?” He pulled into a driveway in front of a robin’s egg blue house with a wide front porch and a cascade of flowers spilling out of the window boxes and onto the ground. “Did you plant those flowers?”
Diego turned the car off and shook his head. “My mom. I have a landscaper come by once a week and keep the place looking nice. I am not great with lawns. A fact I learned during my first off season.”
“The great Diego Salazar, bad at lawn care.” I unbuckled and opened the car door. “I’m definitely going to the press with that bit of news. Don’t you need security or something?”
He shook his head. “Most of the other players live on the other side of town, in gated neighborhoods. Anytime someone pokes around, my neighbors lie and say they’ve never seen me, haven’t heard of me.”
“Nice neighbors.”
“Yeah,” he sighed, shoulders relaxing. “I like it here. This was the kind of house I wished I’d lived in as a kid.”
Did I know anything about Diego’s past? College, sure, but before that? I’d assumed he’d grown up with some wealth. He certainly acted like a person accustomed to the nicer things in life. But I’d never confirmed that. Never asked.
“Come on,” he said without giving me a chance to ask another question. “Let’s get this call over with.”