“Hi, how are you?” I bent to kiss Lori, then shook Don’s hand. “Exciting, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and I’m so glad you decided to come. It’s been a long time since we were at a postseason game.”
Don handed me a beer. “They’re looking strong, and Patrick has settled in with the team.”
I scanned the stadium, spotting Dev’s and Brody’s media boxes. I’d have to go over at some point during halftime to say hello and made a mental note to text them.
“He has. Most of the players I knew from working with Dev have also retired or were traded, so this is a pretty new team to me as well. But the management has stayed the same, and I always heard they’re great to work with.”
“Glad to hear that,” a voice said from behind me, and when I turned, I recognized Armand Winters, the team’s owner. At his side was his personal assistant and boyfriend, Hayden. My cheeks grew warm.
“Oh, hi, Mr. Winters, Hayden.”
Armand Winters’s smile was sweet, and I knew from Dev, he was the force behind Dev not being traded after he’d suffered a bad concussion. “Please, call me Armi. Good to see you again, Fallon. From what I’ve heard, Dev and Brody are doing well in their new careers.”
“We all know how much Dev loves to talk about the game. Or simply talk in general,” I joked, and everyone laughed. “But he and Brody have been a great help to Patrick. I know they’ve met to discuss strategy. They really love being part of the Kings franchise.”
“They are the face of the franchise no matter what, but I’m confident Patrick is going to leave a huge mark of his own on the team. Mr. and Mrs. Sloane, nice to see you.”
“You too. Patrick loves being part of the Kings, and we’ve loved visiting him in New York,” Don assured him.
“Here’s hoping we’ll be in the same position in two weeks for the Super Bowl.” Hayden lifted his glass, and we all toasted to his words. “You’ve become an honorary member of the Kings too, haven’t you, Fallon? Us PAs need to stick together.”
The teams had taken the field, and I immediately found Patrick, who, hot dog that he was, played up to the crowd by pumping his fists to cheers. He pounded his heart and pointed up to the box where we were gathered.
“That’s so sweet.” Armi, standing beside Lori and Don at the window, smiled at them. “He’s letting you know he’s playing for you.”
“He’s a wonderful son. All we want is for him to be happy.” Lori turned to me. “Fallon, can you see?”
“Yep. I’m good.” Because I knew Patrick had included me in his gesture as well, even if I couldn’t say anything.
The game proved to be nerve-wracking with the lead see-sawing between the two teams. By the end of the fourth quarter, with only a minute and ten seconds left, the Kings were behind a field goal, but they had possession of the ball. The crowd was on its feet, and my attention was riveted. Patrick was on his toes, intensity vibrating off him in waves.
“I’m so nervous,” Lori whispered, but I couldn’t answer. All my energy was focused on Patrick.
Come on. Come on. You can do it. Throw that pass. You got this. I love you.
Almost as if he’d heard me, he glanced in our direction, and they lined up. He faded back and threw a long pass, well over thirty yards, that was caught by the receiver, who was wide open. He raced upfield and into the end zone.
“Holy shit. Did you see that?” Hayden yelled, pulling at Armi’s hand.
“Oh, my God. That was incredible,” Lori screamed.
I watched as Patrick celebrated with his teammates. He turned and made the same gesture—hand over his heart—and pointed up to our box. Lori’s hand found mine and squeezed it tight.
“That was for you, I know it,” she whispered.
“We’re going to the Super Bowl.” I hugged her and Don. “Let the games begin.”
And I wasn’t kidding. If the postseason was a party, the two weeks leading up to the Super Bowl were a circus. On the closed-circuit television, we watched Patrick’s postgame Q&A session, and I was impressed by his calm demeanor when one reporter questioned him on the close score.
“At this point in the season, we’re playing the best teams in the league. Why would you expect any team to blow out the other?”
“Patrick,” a female reporter fromFootball Dailycalled out. “You made a gesture before the game started and again after you threw the winning pass that won the game. Was that directed to anyone in particular?”
I held my breath.
“They know who they are.” He nodded to Coach Jackson. “I’m gonna go join my team now for a little celebration.”
