“Yeah,” she chuckles. “I’ve missed spending time with him.”
“So, you’re not mad at me for upgrading your tickets?” I ask.
“I’m a little less upset than I was earlier. I don’t know how you did it with a sold-out game, but it’s perfect. Thank you, Cade.”
I shift closer to the left side of the table and prepare for Isla to stick needles into my hip. “You’re welcome. You deserve some happy.”
“Some what?” Her volume rises to shout over the people waiting outside the stadium. “Sorry, I can barely hear you. It’s getting crazy out here! I think they’re about to open the doors.”
There’ll be more opportunities to remind her of what she deserves.
My throat tightens, but not from pain. “Do you think your dad would like a tour later tonight? I’d love to meet him and show him around—”
“Yes.”
Her answer is so quick but sure, and I find myself smiling. “Good, because you already know my family, and they love you more than they love me. I feel like meeting your dad will be another step forward in ourprofessionalrelationship.”
Shay’s little snort of laughter wraps me in a hug. “You’re making this really har—” She stops abruptly and screams something that sounds a lot likedad. “Sorry, Cade. My dad tripped getting off the bus, and oh my god. His jersey. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
I swallow hard. “Yeah. Have fun, Agent Shay. See you soon.”
I’m pretty sure she doesn’t hear me over her excitement, but I listen to her and her dad’s muffled identical laughs for a few moments before forcing myself to hang up. When I look up, Isla is watching me from behind those thick tortoiseshell glasses.
“What?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I’m between songs. Didn’t hear a word.” The mischief in her eyes gives her away, and all I can do is laugh.
I’m about to meet the father of my almost-ex, current agent, and the woman I’m never going to get over.
Dante Turner is the proudest father.
“We used to come here almost every night to watch games, and now look at us!” He drapes his arm around Marcus’s shoulder. “My baby girl has a pro baseball shortstop as a client. She went from soccer star to sports agent for one of the best agencies in North Carolina!”
They don’t look alike. Outside of their identical ebony skin, the similarities fall away. Dante’s got thatfriend to everyonething going for him, all easy smiles and open body language.
Shay is the opposite: measured, cautious, and guarded. She goes through life with so much control, careful of what parts of herself she offers to people. Nothing about her shouts for notice, yet she draws it in anyway. It’s quiet too, as if asking to be held rather than followed. Chosen, rather than left behind.
That’s what has always drawn me in.
“He did this throughout the entire game to the wonderful couple sitting next to us.” Shay sighs as she hands me a water bottle. “I’m pretty sure they would have moved if they could.”
“And miss an opportunity to sit next totheDante Turner? No way.” I spin the top off and take a drink. “He’s so proud of you.”
“He tells me every single day.” Then her eyes trail from my feet to my face. “You’re standing up straight today. Good treatment?”
I nod. “Spent some extra time in the hot tub, but I’m ready for the tour when he’s done entertaining them. He’s the life of the party.”
“Always has been.” There’s a lightness to her voice as she watches her dad chat with Marcus and Dawson. Even Rio broke and grinnedwhen Dante mentioned that Rio’s muscle tone hadn’t diminished, even though he has been out of the league for a decade.
“And his jersey?” I ask, lifting my eyebrows twice.
“Don’t let it go to your head. It has nothing to do withyou,” she argues. “He just likes the number eight.”
Leaning backward, I admire the eight on the back of her WAG game jersey. “Looks like you do too.”
Ignoring me and my valid point, she waves her dad down.
The former basketball player smiles and turns to face us. Being six-foot-five, there aren’t many people who are taller than me, but it’s like looking up at Goliath as Dante jogs across the locker room toward us. He’s got at least three inches on me.
