“Did we give away all the VIP tickets yet?” Anthony asked. She placed her hand on Anthony’s arm. Not in a possessive way, but in an I-can-hardly-stand-being-so-close-and-not-touching-you way. Allie glanced down to see their matching rings. Oh! Not his personal assistant, his wife. She watched the two ofthem discuss the ticket situation all while having a whole other conversation—one that asked how she was feeling, she replied that she was tired but happy to be here, and he said I love you— all without speaking a word.
Allie pressed her hand against her chest, where an ache for someone to love like that opened a hole. She’d thought Reed would be her one and only forever and always, but he wasn’t. Giving up that dream of someone to love had been harder than giving up that no-good cheat.
Allie stole a glance at Mark. Falling into eye-conversations wouldn’t be difficult with him. Her cheeks burned. She shouldn’t even entertain thoughts like that about him.Different universes.
“I think we have a few left, why?” asked Leticia.
“There’s a kid named José who needs to see a home game.” Anthony brushed his wife’s hair over her shoulder.
Surprised by his generosity, Allie waved her hands. “You don’t have to do that, really—the baseball will be more than enough.”
“Nonsense, let me get your address and I’ll have them sent over. They’re box seats.”
Allie held up her hands. “What does that mean?”
“It means he’ll have a couch to watch the game from,” said Anthony. “That’s really so sweet of you.” Allie knew she was gushing, but there was no stopping the torrent of gratitude. “He posts the schedule on his bedroom door every season and marks who won and who lost, and he talks about the players like he knows them. He’s going to flip out.” “Are you going with him?” asked Mark, his eyebrows drawn together. “Me? No way. His mom should go.” Allie laughed. “Who do you think taught him all the players’ names?”
Mark frowned.
Allie glanced at the group. George looked like he could lock her behind bars forever. Oops. “Selina is one of my heroes—thekind of person who’s handed a tough life and thanks the good Lord for the privilege.”
The group stood there, staring at Allie. She folded her shoulders in, embarrassed.
“Did you have something for me to sign?” asked Beau, stepping into her personal space. She smiled. Beau’s attention was flattering—kind of nice to know a guy who dated supermodels wasn’t repulsed by an everyday waitress, but he wasn’t what she was looking for.
“I didn’t.” Allie furrowed her brow. “I feel horrible. I didn’t think I’d upset y’all if I didn’t bring something for everyone.” She didn’t mention that she’d given her two other slots to George. He was happily chatting up Mark about sports cars.
Beau grabbed a napkin. “How about José’s mom—maybe she’d like an autograph?”
“I think she’d swoon.” Allie laughed.
“Maybe I should give her this in person, then.” Beau’s charm went up three notches.
“That might trigger a heart attack.”
“How old is she?”
“She’s in her late forties.”
“That’s a little older than I usually date—but …” Beau’s hazel eyes danced.
“Probably a good idea to steer clear; she could be more woman than you can handle,” Allie teased back.
To her surprise, Beau hugged her. He had to bend down to get his arms around her, and the experience brought to mind being hugged by a bear, he was so darn big, but the sentiment behind the contact was sweet, brotherly even.
She turned her head on Beau’s shoulder and met Mark’s gaze. While Beau may be easy to joke with, Mark was the one who truly put her at ease. At ease enough to sing in front of men who took the stage for a living.
Yes, Mark’s strong jaw, piercing blue eyes, and overwhelming physique left her mind spinning and her temperature rising, but his sincere interest had drawn her into a place she hadn’t intended to go. Goodness sakes, she’d never be able to go to a Slade McCoy movie again without melting into a pool of popcorn butter and desire.
“Do you want me to sign something too?” Mark asked. There was an edge to his question that took her off guard.
Despite knowing this would be her last conversation with the famous movie star, Allie couldn’t help but blush. “Sorry, I’m all out of napkins.” Mark’s shoulders fell—like she’d hurt his feelings.Poor famous Hollywood star. There were probably fifty women outside right now who would love to have his autograph. Little ol’ Allie Gray couldn’t hurt his feelings … could she? She watched him from the corner of her eye as he thanked Kate and the others who made this all possible.
Kate ushered George and her through the growing number of fans and into the limo. Allie glanced over her shoulder for one last glimpse of the life she was never meant to live but had been gifted for one afternoon. As nice as they all were, Mark was the only one she would have stood outside a restaurant in the Georgia heat for the opportunity to see again.
Maybe she should have had him sign the back of her shirt just so that when she was back to being a waitress at a run-down café, she could
remember how it felt to have Mark DuBois’s undivided interest tingle over her skin as she sang.
