She laughed, eyes lighting up. “Okay, new idea. Can I start over?”
I checked the time. “I’ve got about ten minutes. If we can fit it in there, I’m game.”
She perked up. “Perfect. I’ve been going about this all wrong. Your roots are here—your family, your past. That’s what I want people to see. Not just Brooks Madsen, the player, but the guy behind it.”
I sat back, intrigued. “How do you suggest we do that?”
She grinned. “Get back behind the counter. I’m going to observe you with customers and write about that Brooks Madsen. The real one.”
I laughed, already standing. “Sounds good to me. It’ll give Ned a chance to find his employee.”
“You heard her, Ned,” I called, tying my apron back on. “I’m back on the clock.”
“You’re not getting another free pastry,” he shouted, but his amusement snuck through.
“I would never dream of it.” I winked at Anna as the bell chimed again.
Showtime. Again.
* * *
I wasa grown-ass man who should not be nervous about being invited to a new teammate’s house. I was secure with who I was, how I played the game and my lifestyle, yet the thought of showing up to an engagement party of All-Star Gideon Titan shook me from my normal confidence. It was a big move of him to invite me, and I appreciated being included, but the invite felt too personal. I was just traded to the team and we hadn’t bonded on the field yet.
Dressed in dark jeans and a green sweater, I drove to his place and tapped my fingers against the wheel to the beat of The Offspring. Nothing bad would come of me dropping by for an hour. I could meet some of the guys, have a beer or two, and head home to fight with my brother about our mom’s future. The usual.
Sounded like a solid Saturday night for me.
The house had a large circular drive that reminded me ofHome Alone,and I parked alongside the trucks and Beamers. The interview had run a little longer than I would’ve liked, but thankfully the invite had said it was a come-and-go party, so I wouldn’t look like a total douche coming in late. I’d bought a fancy bottle of champagne for them since I didn’t know either of them well, and I hoped it would go over well. Who didn’t appreciate a nice glass of champagne?
Or at least a mimosa?Logan and I got into some trouble whenever we did a bottomless mimosa brunch.
The massive front door had one of those sleek, high-tech cameras that tracked my every move as I approached. I knocked, still not entirely sure what I was walking into.
Gideon opened the door immediately, pulling me inside with a handshake before introducing me to three teammates within minutes. I passed him the champagne and he clapped me on the back.Phew.He liked the gift.
“You settled in all right?” he asked, passing me a cold Four Peaks Kiltlifter and nodding toward Brigham Monaghan, Tate O’Donahue, and Peter Smith—an up-and-comer with something to prove. “I think it’s safe to say the team’s excited to have Bummy for five years.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. No matter how many contracts I signed, that name wouldn’t die.
“I’m looking forward to it,” I said, keeping it light. “Appreciate the invite, man.”
“No sweat.” Gideon gave me a firm nod before waving over a petite blonde with sharp eyes and an easy confidence. “This is my fiancée, Fiona. Fi, meet Bummy.”
She tilted her head, sizing me up. “Bummy?”
“It’s a dumb story,” I admitted.
Her grin turned playful. “I still want to hear it.”
I sighed, resigned. “Middle name’s Ulysses. In junior high, we had to write our initials on the back of our PE shirts. Instead of BM, I added the U. First month of school, someone ran with it, and now I’m stuck.”
Fiona pursed her lips like she was considering something profound, then smirked. “I like it. Welcome back to Phoenix, Bummy.”
“Thanks… I think.”
Brigham slung an arm over my shoulder. “Hey, I have an idea. Take my spot tomorrow.”
I blinked. “For what?”
