“Yep,” she said. “I was trying to be a bartender.”
“Trying?” Mike asked.
“I do a lot of research for my books. It’s best to put myself in those positions to fully understand it. Thankfully he didn’t order anything complicated.”
He saw Coach and Mike look back and forth at each other smiling. “He said you didn’t know who he was,” Mike said.
“No clue other than I was calling him Adonis in my mind. Two other patrons recognized him and told me.” She put her hand in front of her mouth as if she was trying to whisper but didn’t. “I don’t follow a lot of sports. I’m more into murder and mayhem with a little bit of sex appeal thrown in.”
“What other jobs have you done for your books?” Mike asked. They were being polite and he appreciated it. He hoped it was because of him but had a feeling it had more to do with Emma’s family. If they only knew who her mother was they’d be amping it up more, he was sure.
She shrugged. “My family owns so many businesses. I take advantage of it and do things or just observe. I’ve been in a lot of the hotels in various roles, the casino, restaurants. I have a lot of medical professionals in my family also. I only get to pick their brains though it’d be neat to observe, but HIPAA. I’m very grateful to have those resources.”
“You can add another thing to your research repertoire,” Warren said.
“What’s that?” she asked, slurping some more of her smoothie.
“Now you’re a WAG.”
“I know,” she said excitedly. “How cool is that?”
“Very cool,” he said, holding his arm out.
She easily moved under it and snuggled into his side. “Want some?” she asked, holding her smoothie to him. “I promise it’s not ice cream, though when I asked if I could have it they said yes. Then I thought you’d lecture me, so yogurt it was.”
“No,” he said, grinning. “You can have it.”
“You’re a breath of fresh air this club could use,” Coach said. “The other WAGs will not be happy.”
The smile left her face as quickly as it did his.
23
EVERY HERO SHOULD HAVE
“Idon’t want to be used to help anyone’s image,” she said when Warren returned from Gillette Stadium.
He’d brought her home, then returned alone to the stadium, neither of them saying much about the meeting.
Emma spent more time talking about the tour she was on and keeping it light.
She had a lot of things in her head that she wanted to write down before she forgot.
Which was stupid because she could easily go back by the sounds of it.
She knew Warren was telling a few people now about her and she understood the reasoning behind it.
What she was trying to do was figure out what their parting comment was about and didn’t want to jump the gun and assume anything.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I just had that talk with them. They said it wasn’t what they meant.”
“Do you believe it?”
“I have no reason not to,” he said.
“Seriously?” she asked. “You trust them?”
“Until they give me a reason not to,” he said. “But it’s not an individual sport. It’s for the team and the club. They try to get ahead of anything that they can. Good or bad.”
