And I know I need to fix how I’m presenting myself if I’m going to get Santiago’s job.
Mostly, I need to come to terms with the paranoia that my history before the Fireballs brings out in me.
And I had all of those arguments ready to go, then Duncan hits me withyou looked happy.
“I enjoy mentoring young women,” I say.
“It shows.”
I tilt my head, watching him. It feels like there’s something more he wants to say, something more on his mind, but he doesn’t elaborate.
Nor do I goad him into saying it. What would be the point?
It’s not a discussion I’m ready to have. Not with him.
That would be too personal. Too close. And I’m still feeling out what this friendship between us means.
After another block, he switches on the radio. We ride the rest of the way to the bar with him quietly humming along to the music.
Once we’re inside, it’s clear he’s a regular. The hostess greets him by name with a warm smile that she extends to me as well. “You playing today?” she adds, which is weird, since it’s not hockey season.
His cheeks take on that ruddy hue again. “Nah, not today. Just hungry.”
“Barry’ll comp your order if you play.”
“I brought a sugar mama. She’s paying today.”
It’s so unexpected that I crack up.
“I hope you’re as loaded as our fries,” she says, taking him completely seriously. “I’ve seen this guy put some food down.”
“I think I can afford him,” I tell her.
He’s getting ruddier in the cheeks, which is pinging mysomething’s offmeter.
And when we’re seated in a booth along the wall, I kick him lightly under the table to pull his attention away from the menu. “When they say play…”
He nods toward the stage set up along the closest wall.
And it clicks. “They don’t know who you are here, do they?”
He shakes his head.
You’d think that wasn’t possible, but while Copper Valley is a sports town, it’s so much more thanjusta sports town. Go out to eat near the arena or the ballpark, and yes, it’s inevitable that someone will recognize the players. Sometimes me too. But I’ve also been out with the whole Fireballs team before and seen the looks of people around us who clearly realize the team is a big deal but couldn’t name a single person on it.
Outside the city, we’re known more for being the birthplace of Bro Code, the boy band that Tripp, Levi, and three of their friends played in for years before I met any of them.
“Think our PSA will blow your cover?” I ask Duncan.
He grins. “Only if I ever walk in here in a helmet and skates.”
“You like being anonymous?”
“Sometimes. I get a high off of playing for a crowd that isn’t predisposed to telling me I’m awesome.” He winks at me. “Sort of like I’m more inclined to go home with a woman who clearly doesn’t know I’m the shit for other reasons than how well I play a guitar.”
“I’m not touching that.”
“Suit yourself.”
