I closed my eyes and shook my head. Of course it was.
“Go grab your sexy new black coat and let’s get moving.”
Stella was one of a few people who knew me best and could turn my mood around in a minute. She and the asshole who got me into this.
“Yes, ma’am.” I started for my office, then stopped. I grabbed her up in a hug. “Thanks for keeping me sane. And just for that, I’ll give you the night off.”
She laughed, then pinched my side. “Thanks, asshole—and I mean that with the most affection I can muster.”
I grinned as I made my way to my office, feeling a little bit lighter, and ready to see Nick. It was time to pursue some changes, and he just might be the one to help me make that happen.
* * *
The Draft Partywas held in the Field Level Suite that stretched behind the north field goal. The open social area was enclosed with movable glass walls, making the view of the stadium and the field spectacular.
Earlier this afternoon, Alejandro had come over and set up the bar at the permanent island in the middle of the open area. There was no need for him to stay with Nick and Ben here, so he opted to be the bartender at his bar tonight. I’d offered to send him two of mine, but he turned me down.
“I appreciate it,” he’d said, “but working the bar keeps me in touch with the customers. I like getting to know the people who spend a lot of time and money in my bar.”
I understood that. Taking a stroll through the dining room to talk to people was something I enjoyed, too. I appreciated their compliments and complaints alike. It made all the work and sacrifice worth it.
The open space now held tables and chairs set behind the stadium seats where partygoers could look at the view. Round tables that seated twelve people were set with linen napkins and silverware. All my staff and I had to do was create an attractive buffet line and make sure we didn’t run out of food.
When I agreed to cater this event, I’d planned to keep Bernardo’s open with Stella running the show. But after all the work that went into prepping for over two hundred people away from the kitchen, I closed the restaurant and gave her a rare Saturday night off. To make sure my staff wasn’t penalized, I brought along anyone that wanted to come work tonight. Just like Alejandro’s, my employees liked to come to work.
“Preston, you’ve outdone yourself!” Greer Rowan said as he walked around both buffets prior to the party starting.
The fifty-eight-year-old owner of the Portland Pirates was an attractive man with thick salt and pepper hair. His expressive green eyes were showcased behind designer frames, but his square jaw and dazzling smile made him quite the catch.
“Thank you, Mr. Rowan,” I said, extending my hand to shake. “Thank you for choosing Bernardo’s—and Alejandro’s, for that matter.”
“Call me Greer. You both came highly recommended by my quarterback and my new kicker. Did you get a chance to see him kick last season?”
“Yes,” I lied, “he was phenomenal.” I wanted to forget that shitshow ever happened. “I’ll have to thank them. Are they here tonight?”
“Oh yes, Alex comes to every one of these. As the captain of the team, he takes his role seriously.”
“And Dominick? Will he be here?”Please say no.
Greer smiled. “Yes, all the players and staff should be here soon. Brad doesn’t require them to come, but they do anyway. They’ve built quite a family atmosphere here. It’s hard to trade them away.”
I nodded. “That’s impressive. I actually bought my apartment from a former player, Scott O’Neil. I guess your loss was my gain.”
He laughed. “Definitely. Scott was a good lineman, but he wanted to be closer to home in Texas. Hated to see him go, but I understood the reason why.”
Greer told me about the three players they’d drafted, and honestly, I wasn’t payingattention. I nodded and scanned the room until I found who I wanted to see.
Nick and Ben were behind the bar and dressed in athletic cut black suits with white shirts and thin black ties. Most of their job tonight would be to serve wine and beer, but Alejandro made sure to set them up for mixed drink service if they needed it.
“I don’t see Alejandro around anywhere,” he said, drawing my attention back to him.
“Oh, yes, he had to go back to the bar, but those two gentlemen over there,” I motioned toward Nick and Ben, “can make anything you want. They’re his two best bartenders.”
Greer looked at the bar. “That is a great idea. It’s been a busy day, and a glass of Pinot sounds fantastic. If I don’t see you again, thank you for doing this for us.” He extended his hand to shake.
I grasped his hand. “Anytime. Enjoy your evening.”
As Greer walked toward the bar, I turned to look at Nick. He was smiling at something Ben was saying, and the smile on his face put one on mine.
