I’m pretty sure the hug lasted longer than appropriate, and I clung to him harder than a needy koala, but the way his face nuzzled into my neck makes me think he didn’t mind.
And when he walked me to my room, he tried to slip back into our previous roles by warning me not to be late to the game tomorrow and to make sure Anna and I wore matching jerseys.
Yet when I rolled my eyes at his request, his whispered “don’t test me” unexpectedly sent shivers down my spine.
So naturally, today, I must test him.
I know I’m not officially in the clear, but after last night, I really don’t think Mateo would fire me.
I mean, we freaking trauma bonded.
I smile as Anna hops into the car before me, wearing a very bedazzled jersey with her father’s name and number. She’s in jean shorts, a navy tank top, and converse. Dressed exactly like me, minus the bedazzling. We are even sporting matching Monarchs baseball hats—my idea, given that a bit of my bravado has faded from last night, and I feel like I could use the extra layer of armor against potentially curious stares.
The closer we get to the brand-new stadium, the antsier I get.
“Isa, you’re almost shaking the car with your leg. Do you have to go pee? I know where all the bathrooms are at the stadium,” Anna offers sweetly.
I push my hands down on my knees, forcing them to stop their incessant bouncing, and try to act as if I don’t feel Hank’s concerned gaze from the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, sorry. Forgot to go before we left. But it’s all good. We’re almost there, right, Hank?” I add a fake level of chipper to my voice.
“Just pulling in now, actually,” Charlie answers from the front seat.
It still feels weird to go everywhere with a security detail, but I’ve been able to crack a smile or two out of Charlie since we’ve met, so I consider that a win.
We pull up to a security gate, and Hank hands over a family pass lanyard. After a few guards circle the car and scan thebottom with extendable mirrors and other CIA-type gadgets, we’re cleared to pull in.
Hank parks by a large open area that resembles more of a loading zone than stadium entrance.
“It’s going to be a great game. I can feel it, Isabella. You make sure to enjoy yourself today, all right?” Hank says as he opens the door for me.
For a second, I wonder if he knows why I’m nervous.
Which leads to the other devastating side effect of my public humiliation.
The guessing game.
I never truly know who knows and who doesn’t. Who acts coy or dumb to simply spare my feelings.
Knowing that someone is actively trying to go out of their way to make sure I don’t feel bad actually makes me feel guilty. It’s a never-ending cycle that sometimes puts me in a funk for days on end.
But for now, I take in Hank’s kind eyes and words at face value. He’s right. This is going to be a great game, because we have two New York teams going head-to-head.
I take Anna’s small hand in mind and ask her to lead the way, even though it’s obvious that Charlie is leading and directing our every move now that we are out of the car.
Every so often, Charlie brandishes a badge, and doors are magically opened for us. The impressive experience of being able to walk through the behind-the-scenes areas of Monarch Stadium pushes my nerves to the back seat.
That is until we make it to the family suite that overlooks the field.
A stunning young woman meets us by the door. Her golden-brown skin glows in a way that tells me she’s been in the Caribbean sun recently. She’s dressed in what I recognize as a two-piece Chanel pantsuit and nude Louboutin heels. Idiscreetly look down at my scuffed Converses and wonder if matching a five-year-old’s outfit was really the right call.
“Hi, I’m Daisy.” The woman extends her hand to me while sporting a kind smile.
“Hi, I’m Isabella. Uh, Anna’s nanny,” I say nervously.
“Oh, I know who you are,” she says, giggling.
I freeze. It’s already begun. Fuck, this was a bad idea.
