“Roland told me you should be able to play again next season.”
“That’s the goal, ma’am.”
“He’s such a good captain,” Mom tells me. “The players just adore him.”
“Some of us just tolerate him,” Fletcher says.
“They say the same about you and your mustache, dear,” Mom replies.
He grins. “I know. I like it that way.”
Jessica sneezes toward him, which isn’t something she did at home at all the two weeks Holt was gone but has done to Holt every day since he’s been back.
Apparently Jessica’s decided she doesn’t like Fletcher specifically enough to snot on him too.
Fletcher looks down at her, and she spins around to aim her butt?—
I leap forward and grab her leash from Mom. “Jessica, wedo notfart at people.Especiallyin offices.”
Goldie chokes on a laugh. Miranda lets hers roll free.
Fletcher mutters something that sounds like, “Yeah, Jessica,” which makes Goldie cough again.
And Holt rubs his brow with a sigh. “I’ll wait in your car,” he says to Fletcher.
“It’s eleventy billion bloody degrees outside,” Fletcher says.
“So hurry your ass up. Mrs. Keating, nice to see you. Miranda, stay out of trouble.” He pauses and stares at me for an awkward pause. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” I choke out. “All of you.”
Goldie squints at me the same way I’ve probably squinted at her a half dozen times already.
Like she knows me too.
It had to be Abby Nora’s baby shower. Which means Holt’s teammate’s fiancée knows that her friend Abby Nora thinks I’m a horrible person.
Awesome.
My brain hurts.
My stomach is starting to as well.
“They’re good people, but don’t get too close,” Mom says after Goldie and Fletcher have left to catch up with Holt in the parking lot. “There are lines when it comes to fraternizing with the players and their significant others.”
“Goldie’s good people. Fletcher’s questionable. Holt’s nice though,” Miranda says.
“And still a player,” Mom says.
Fuck. “Right. Of course. What are you doing here? Why’d you bring Jessica?”
She smiles at me. “I thought you’d like it if we brought you lunch to celebrate the end of your first week on the job.”
“Just me? Did you bring enough for Miranda too?”
“I’m calling in an order to that Greek place you loved so much the last time you were home.”
I might’ve hooked up with a guy in Greece that ended with me pregnant, but Tater Tot isn’t having anything to do with the idea of gyros and tzatziki and grape leaves just yet.
