A venue employee waits beside a side door, motioning for us to walk through. I had the foresight to call ahead and request we not enter through the front. Many of these events will have some kind of red carpet where local news, and sometimes national publications, will take photos. Not a chance in hell am I allowingone damn picture to be out there of me with this woman. I can already tell Tessa would love her fifteen minutes of fame, probably do interviews herself, and blatantly lie about the entire night.
“Where are the paparazzi?” Tessa asks, proving my point.
“In the front,” I answer.
“Why didn’t we go in that way?” she pouts.
“Because we aren’t here for that. Again, this isn’t a date. You clearly aren’t here for the charity. I’ll introduce you to some teammates once we’re inside.”
“Really?” she says, her voice much perkier. “Do I get to veto anyone?”
“Nope.”
“You know, this is exactly why my uncle chose you. You’re boring as fuck.”
As we’re guided into a large ballroom, I turn to Tessa, lowering my voice. “I won’t introduce you to any of my married friends, or anyone in a relationship. I’ll introduce you to the single ones who will be fine with a one night stand. Sound good?”
“Maybe I’m interested in a relationship.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “Are you?”
Tessa huffs as she visibly deflates. “No. But I don’t like you insinuating I’m a slut.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell your uncle that we hooked up. At that point, I’d barely said two words to you. You knew nothing about me except for my job, and how I look.”
“Well, I’m not a slut.” Chin up in defiance, her eyes have a sheen of tears in them, and I immediately feel awful.
“Alright. In the future, don’t suggest sex right when meeting someone. And make sure the man shows interest before you touch him.” Then I say something I’m even surprised comesout of my mouth. “I don’t like being touched unless I know it’s coming.”
Tessa’s mouth drops open. “Seriously? How do you play football? It’s all touching!”
“Because I know what to expect then. And I’m desensitized to it after playing it for thirty years. It’s a sensory thing.”
“Wow. Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You’re right, I should have been more cognizant of how you might feel about things.” In my periphery, I see her chewing on her lip, and her hands are clasped tightly against her abdomen. The facade she wore in the car is gone, and I finally see a young woman who got a little too excited about tonight.
“Thank you for apologizing. Now let’s get in there. Coach said there was a silent auction. Did he at least give you his credit card?”
She giggles. “He did. He told me to try and be practical, but that seems like a subjective word. What does practical mean? In the eye of the beholder and all that.”
I chuckle as I beckon for her to lead the way. “Let’s go spend your uncle’s money.”
Two hours later, I’m slightly buzzed as I hang with Maddox. Tessa has flitted all around the ballroom, making friends wherever she goes, and has bid on just about every item available. She bid on a Michelin starred restaurant meal for two, a weekend trip to Vail, a hot air balloon ride in Colorado Springs, and a behind-the-scenes brewery tour. I bid on a suitefor Wolves games, a vacation home in Aspen, snowboarding lessons, and a set of cooking lessons in your home.
“Does Coach know his niece gets around?” Maddox asks.
“Doubtful. He told me he didn’t want her getting with an athlete, but she insinuated I’m not the first one she’s been around.” I take a long pull off my beer as I relax back against the wall.
“Murray told me about her,” he says, referencing one of the defensive ends on our team. “Said he met her out clubbing one night. She only dropped Coach’s name after he’d already taken her home.”
I wince. “How do we handle this? Tell him point-blank that she’s trouble?”
Maddox shrugs. “I don’t know. Sure am glad I’m not you, though.”
Another one of our friends joins us where we’re leaning against a wall. Max Callahan, a recent trade to the Major League Baseball team here, the Rocky Mountain Raptors, sighs as he surveys the room. All glower and growl, Max and I met through our shared agent. “I fucking hate these things.”
“Why are you here then?” I ask.
“Because Troy told me to go. The season just started, and fans don’t seem to like me.”
