And I didn’t bother stopping him.
Because I already knew this wasn’t about football.
It was about whatever deal was waiting for us at the end of the drive…and the part of me my dad was trying to sell.
The restaurant was even fancier than the usual places my dad found for me to pay for. Low lights pooled over linen, servers moved like rehearsed ghosts, and the menu read like a challenge. I’d eaten in plenty of nice places since coming to college, but this one didn’t feel like a restaurant.
It felt like a negotiation waiting to happen.
We were led to a corner table that was tucked away from the rest of the dining room. The leather banquette was soft enough that Lizzie flopped back into it and squealed. “Look at the lights!” she breathed with huge eyes, staring up at the giant chandelier above us. “Can I get the cakeandthe ice cream for dessert?”
Dad chuckled, sliding the menu toward her. “Of course, sweetheart. Anything you want.”
The way he said it made something sour rise in my throat. Both he and Kenton seemed to be trying very hard to pretend like this was all normal.
And for a while, it allwasnormal.
Lizzie chattered about the mascot, asking why I had kissed it, and I let myself briefly smile at the thought of Ophelia.
Dad chuckled. “That was one hell of a touchdown celebration, son. The crowd loved it. Stuff like that sticks. It’s great for your brand.”
I didn’t bother correcting him. Let him think it was about publicity instead of the girl I couldn’t stop thinking about.
It was easier that way.
Kenton made pleasant noises while Lizzie continued to chatter throughout dinner, nodding at all the right places. He asked, offhand, about her teacher and whether she liked school. There was something too smooth about it, like he’d practiced being kind just enough to make people trust him. I didn’t buy it, but Lizzie beamed at the attention, and I let her have it.
We ate. The food arrived like small sculptures…seafood that tasted like the ocean had been edited for flavor, steak sliced thin and served like an afterthought to the sauce. Dad made more small talk by asking me about our championship chances, while Kenton complimented me on my “marketability,” and all the attention I was getting.
When the waiter finally walked away after dropping off our desserts, Kenton turned his glass in his hand, the reflection of the candlelight glinting off his watch. “You’ve built quite a reputation for yourself, Matthew,” he began. “It’s impressive. The kind of thing people notice.”
Dad smiled like he was being complimented, too. “He’s worked for it. Always has.”
“Discipline like that,” Kenton said. “It’s rare. And valuable.”
There it was.
I kept my tone flat. “I’m sure it is.”
He smiled like he’d been waiting for the cue. My eyes flicked to my father, who was sitting there, his face eager, practically leaning forward in anticipation.
“Which brings us to why I wanted to take you to dinner tonight.”
Lizzie’s spoon clinked against her bowl. I felt her eyes flick toward us but she stayed quiet, distracted by the tiny dish of ice cream the waiter had just brought to go with her cake.
Kenton leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table, voice lowering. “You’ve got something most people don’t—access frominsidethe team. You see things before anyone else does. A guy limping in practice, a tweak he’s hiding, who’s not running full speed, who’s taking extra treatment. Little details, nothing major. But information like that…” He paused, smiling faintly. “It’s worth a lot. To the right people.”
My grip tightened around the fork.
Dad spoke next, clearly trying to tamp down his excitement and pretend like this was no big deal. “He’s not talking about anything dangerous, Matty. Just…strategic insights. You could help us all out.”
I stared at him. “You want me to feed you information about the team?”
“Not just us,” Kenton corrected, still calm. “We’re a network. Think of it as…risk assessment. A way for investors to make informed decisions. No harm, no foul.”
“That’s betting,” I said flatly.
Kenton smiled like I’d said something quaint. “That’sbusiness. And in business, information is currency.”
