Page 19 of Delay of Game (Norwalk Breakers #4)

NINETEEN

GRACIE

In two hundred feet, turn left.

“No, that’s not right.” Mila’s face scrunched as I pulled to a stop for a half-dozen Breakers fans to cross the street.

“What’s not right?” I asked, well aware that everything wasn’t right.

Not the hilariously huge jersey Gloria pulled over my head on the way out the door.

Not having a student in my car. Not navigating around an NFL stadium to watch a guy I definitely wasn’t dating but certainly knew what his dick felt like, play football.

“We drove past Nate.” She craned her head behind us as we passed yet another parking lot.

“Who’s Nate?”

In one hundred feet, turn left.

“He lets people into the box seat parking lot,” she said, pressing her tiny hand against the backseat window.

“So, that’s the parking lot we’re looking for?” I asked, unsure if I should trust the GPS or the six-year-old.

“Yes.” She nodded, then wavered. “Maybe.”

I turned left and held up the passes Gloria handed me on the way out the door.

“Mr. Tacky!” Mila’s pompoms rustled in delight.

An older man with a comb-over manning the parking lot entrance bent down, his head half in the car. “Mila! I’m glad to see you, even if you’re in the wrong parking lot. And who’s your new friend?”

He backed up from the window, turning a kindly smile in my direction.

“Gracie Evans. I’m a friend of the fam?—”

“She’s my teacher, Mr. Tacky. I’m in kindergarten.” Mila cut me off without hesitation.

“Kindergarten? That can’t be right? You’re a little sprite, too small for school.”

Mila squealed from the backseat. “I’m six, Mr. Tacky! Of course I’m in kindergarten!”

“Well, nice to meet you, Ms. Gracie Evans. Any friend of Mila is a friend of mine.” Mr. Tacky held out a hand.

“Nice to meet you, too.” I shook his hand and took back the passes. “But we’re in the wrong parking lot?”

“Afraid so.” He nodded his head apologetically. “Let me move a few cones so you can sneak over to the boxed seat parking without going back into traffic.”

He scurried away from the car, removing a set of cones and waving us through. I eased the car through the opening, waving to Mr. Tacky and pulling into an empty space. I opened the back seat, and Mila bounded out, straightening her peacock blue cheerleading skirt and fluffing her pompoms.

“So, what now?” I asked, craning my head up toward the top of the stadium.

She pointed to a peacock blue tent with the words “Lionel’s Tailgate” emblazoned on the canopy.

“There!” She grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the tailgate across the parking lot.

Rob left hours before I arrived, which shouldn’t have shocked me but did disappoint me.

Gloria, with help from Mila, gave me an extensive breakdown of the responsibilities and rules of attending a Norwalk Breakers game before she’d let us out the door.

And walking up to Lionel’s Tailgate, I realized I should have paid a little more attention.

My history with tailgates included rusted-out grills and tall boys. Hastily thrown together events that culminated in nosebleed seats in the upper decks. Nothing that came close to the full-service bar and an array of delicate appetizers under the tent.

Mila let go of my hand, swiping a cookie from a tray of desserts before I could stop her.

“Mila, my love,” a friendly brunette with wide brown eyes called. She crouched down and opened her arms.

Mila raced into the hug. “Cassie!”

The waifish blonde standing next to her sank to the ground, wrapping an arm around both of them.

“Cece!” Mila nuzzled her hair.

Cassie’s eyes wandered past Mila and locked with mine. A playful smile formed on her lips. “Want to introduce us to your new friend?”

“Oh, right.” Mila untangled herself from the women and straightened. “This is Ms. Evans.”

My stomach tightened at the introduction. They belonged here in their form-fitting Breakers’ gear and picture-perfect smiles. The exact type of women who would be cheering on a football player from the sidelines. I tugged at the oversized jersey.

“Gracie, it’s so nice to meet you,” Cassie said with a smile so genuine some of my nerves fluttered away.

“Gloria let us know you’d be coming,” Cece added. “She asked us to show you the ropes.”

“Usually, Lena is our welcoming committee chair, but she stayed home with the baby this game.” Cassie wrapped an arm around my waist, guiding me toward the bar.

“She used to be so much fun.” Cece rolled her eyes dramatically, flanking my other side. “But she’ll be here next game. You’ll love her.”

“I think this is a one game deal,” I said, already wishing it wasn’t as Cece slid a drink into my hand.

Maybe they were only being nice for appearances, but five years in elementary schools meant I had a good knack for picking out mean girls. Neither of them seemed like the type, and even as out of place as I looked in comparison, I sort of wanted them to like me.

Cassie scoffed. “Of course it isn’t. You have to meet Lena. And Gloria’s been dying for an excuse not to come to the games. Mostly because Cece gets her drunk on mai tais.”

I eyed my drink.

Cece gasped with a playful smile, holding a manicured palm to her chest. “Don’t put this on me. I’m just being a good hostess.”

“Liar.” Cassie stopped the argument with a word. “Gloria would be all too happy to give up her tickets. Or get a third. Sorry if we sound a little bit desperate, but we need fresh blood.”

“Trent’s new girlfriend, Kit, is great, but she works at a hospital. Her schedule sucks.” Cece downed her drink and tapped the bar for another.

“So, you both date players?” I asked, instantly feeling foolish. Of course they did. They may as well have been models for the type of women players dated.

“Hell no,” Cece said with a laugh. “Lena is married to Noa. He’s a center, and she was my roommate. I just come here for the free booze. Cassie’s sister used to work at the stadium and hooked her up with the quarterback.”

“I doubt my sister would appreciate you saying that,” Cassie said with a laugh. “But, yeah, I met Diego through my sister. She trains him during the off season.”

“And you’re here with Rob…” Cece’s eyes lit up and her tongue poked out through her teeth. “I really never thought I’d see the day.”

“I’m not here with Rob,” I spluttered, unable to stop my face from burning with embarrassment. “Gloria and my aunt go way back, and I’m Mila’s kindergarten teacher.”

Cassie bit her lip and turned to Cece. “Looks like you owe me five bucks.”

She shook her head, nearly spilling her drink. “Uh-uh. No way. We haven’t even seen them together.”

“Five bucks for what?” I asked.

Cassie grimaced, but Cece answered without a hint of repentance. “We took a bet on whether Rob had a girlfriend coming to the game.”

“Looks like you owe her five dollars,” I said. “I’m not his girlfriend.”

“Oh, come on,” Cece said, wrapping an arm around me. “You can share with us.”

“You lost. Accept it,” Cassie teased. “But if Rob was dating you, he’d be punching up.”

“He’s definitely not,” I said, less forceful this time as a memory of broken greenware and tangled fingers came back to me.

“Look at her face!” Cece squealed. “She’s into him. Bet’s not off.”

“But it’s Rob.” Cassie elongated his name, emphasizing the improbability of Rob dating anyone, especially me.

I spared a glance at Mila who had infiltrated a gaggle of Norwalk Breaker cheerleaders. She stood between them, double fisting cookies and replicating their dance moves as they ran through a routine.

“Exactly!” Cece exclaimed. “Rob’s got that angry daddy sex appeal. I’m really more of a rich stock bro type of girl, but if you forced me to date one of these guys, I’d pick Rob.”

“You used to say that about Trent.” Cassie rolled her eyes.

“And now he’s taken. Rob’s my second choice. He’s got mean daddy energy. Can you imagine being spanked by him?”

I ducked out of Cece’s grasp, signaling to the bartender for another drink.

She laughed. “See, she’s imagining it. And it’s super hot. Don’t worry, girl. You can still win this bet for us.”

“You’re embarrassing her.” Cassie frowned. “She won’t hang out with us if you make her uncomfortable.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” I said, rationing my breath to slow the uptick of my pulse. “Sorry, but I think you lost your bet.”

“I’m not giving up that easy.” Cece waved a hand. “There’s still time. For now, let’s show you the game day ropes.”

“She makes it sound like such a process.” The cheerleaders wandered off and Cassie waved Mila back over to us. “We better head to the stadium. Kickoff is in ten, and I want Diego to see my jersey.”

She turned around, showing off the number three and the name “White” emblazoned on the back.

“And you think I’m the wild one?” Cece shook her head. “Diego is going to flip.”

“Is that not his jersey?” I asked.

Cassie shook her head. “It’s Luke’s. He’s the kicker. He hooked me up with a VIP booth at his nightclub last week and asked me to wear his jersey. I think he’s just trying to annoy Diego.”

“And you played along with that?” I asked.

She beamed. “For a VIP booth and free drinks? Hell yeah. Plus, he booked his staff on my Thursday night ghost tour. It was so much fun, and I never sell out that one. I owe him one.”

“Do you even know why he’s picking at Diego?” Cece asked.

Cassie scoffed. “No idea. But I can’t wait to find out.”

She looped her arm through mine and grabbed Mila’s hand on our way to our seats.

The game flew by. The banter and conversation at the tailgate stopped at kickoff.

Mila stayed glued to the window for the entirety of the next four quarters while the teams below fought it out for a win.

With the Breakers trailing into the second quarter, Cassie pulled off the White jersey, replacing it with a number eleven Salazar jersey.

Tied in the fourth, Cece grabbed my hand, bruising my fingers as the game moved into overtime. In the second overtime, a running back slipped by Rob, outscoring the Breaker’s field goal and securing the win.

“That sucked,” Cassie frowned. She squeezed Mila’s shoulders.

Mila brushed back tears with her other hand. “I hate Buffaloes.”

“Me, too, girl,” Cece agreed. “But we gotta put on a brave face for your dad. He’s going to be extra sad about missing that tackle, so let’s remind him of all the awesome tackles he made this game.”

“He sacked the quarterback three times,” Mila sniffled.

“And he stuffed two runs,” Cassie added. She heaved a sigh, raking a hand over her face before turning to me. “Well, I wish your first game would have been a win.”

I shrugged. “They tried their best.”

“They’re going to be complete downers, so I’m heading back to the tailgate,” Cece said, tousling Mila’s hair. “You coming with me, Gracie? Cassie can deliver Mila safely into Rob’s hands.”

I hesitated.

“Or maybe you want to see him?” Cece jumped at my reluctance. “Win me five dollars?”

“I’ll just say hi.”

Cece waved goodbye and doubled back to the tailgate. Mila took the lead, navigating us out of the stadium and through an endless string of maze-like hallways. She showed off our passes to the security guards posted around the stadium, greeting most of them by name.

“She’s an unofficial mascot,” Cassie whispered as we walked along a hallway.

“I’m surprised she’s not in more promotional material.”

Cassie laughed. “Rob would never allow that. He doesn’t let the press near her. He’s gotten at least a dozen photographers barred from covering the Breakers for pap shots.”

“He’s a really good dad,” I sighed.

“It is sort of hot, isn’t it?” Cassie shook her head. “Damn it. Cece’s right.”

A horde of reporters stood outside the locker room, and Mila drew us away from them to a side door.

We pushed through into a room, empty besides a young woman with a team badge scribbling on her clipboard.

She didn’t look up as Mila skipped to a waiting table of snacks and drinks.

Breakers jerseys decorated the walls, and a handful of plush chairs and sofas dotted the room.

Cassie sat down on a red fabric chair and patted the one next to her. “And now, we wait.”