“I’m sure he is,” Ezra murmured. “How is Dev? You two get that shelter fixed up and running?”
“Yeah, and thanks for sending us all that merch from all your other clients. Movie and television star autographs brought in a ton of money. We had the old building updated, and the new one is under construction.”
“Excellent. All right. I’ll contact the Kings, and I don’t expect much pushback. They need you, plus they want to keep their quarterback happy.”
My face burned. Ezra had to know Dev and I were together, but I wasn’t about to tell him on the phone. Coach had always taught us that face-to-face was the way to handle your business, personal or professional.
“Thanks, Ezra. Appreciate it.”
“That’s what I’m here for. And when you get to the city, I hope you and Dev will have dinner with my husband and myself.”
Dev gave me a thumbs-up.
“Yeah. I’d like that, and I’m sure Dev will too. Take care, Ezra. Talk soon.” I ended the call.
“Well?”
I grinned. “Start spreadin’ the news.”
Chapter Eight
Dev
It was opening day for the new shelter, and a huge crowd had formed. The town had basically shut down, and Brody and I had hired a band, food vendors, and everything needed to keep children entertained. Everett had returned from his promotional tour and joined us. We’d all taken turns showing the kids—and quite a few parents—how to throw and catch a ball, and now Everett was posing for pictures.
I chomped on a hot dog. “Vette’s got an admirer.” I tipped my head to the woman who’d been hovering by his side for the past hour, getting him bottles of water and a towel to dry his sweating face. Brody frowned.
“I went to school with Dora Lee. She had it rough. Her father went to jail, and her momma was killed in a car accident. Her grandparents raised her, and they were stricter than a state-prison warden. When she got pregnant by a Black guy, they tossed her out on the street, the racist pigs. She lived in the shelter for years while trying to take care of the baby and working at the local supermarket.”
I huffed and shook my head. “I don’t understand family who turn their backs on their kids.”
“Me neither.” Brody kicked at the ground, and I could see something was eating away at him.
“What’s wrong?”
He chewed his lip. “I think before I leave, I’m gonna tell Momma.”
This wasn’t a conversation to have in the middle of a fair. I led him to one of the picnic tables set up under tents. The area was emptying out, as it was getting close to dinnertime and most people were playing games or had already left.
“You sure?” I asked him. “What made you decide now?”
“It’s time. Plus, with me leavin’ and all, it’ll be easier if she’s not okay with it.”
Under the table, where people couldn’t see, I nudged his foot. “Are you still upset she’s not coming with you?”
Those big blue eyes reflected the painful talk they’d had. “I guess.”
“You never told me about it. Only that she wanted to stay.”
“Dev—”
“No. Please, Brody.” My eyes expressed what I couldn’t show him with actions. “Talk to me.”
“She’s lived here all her life and it’s too late to make a switch. That’s all.”
I crossed my arms and glared at him. “Bullshit. You’re lying.”
“The fuck you call me a liar.” He scowled at me.
