Rushing Amy: A Love and Football Novel (36 page)

“Listen, squirt, you’re going to have to save me. My wife wants a dog, which will not get along with Deacon the cat,” Brandon explained. “She wants one of those big dogs, too. No Chihuahua for her. It’s yellow lab or nothin’. And you know she winds me around her little finger. There are evidently going to be dogs there. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“I suppose,” Amy sighed.

“So, you’ll force yourself, huh?” Brandon’s laugh boomed over her phone. “She’ll probably try to sneak a puppy out of there in her evening bag. If there are two of us keeping an eye on her, she might not get away with it.”

“Maybe we could have her frisked on the way out.”

“Good idea, squirt. I’ll see you then.”

She actually enjoyed most of the soirees her sister and brother-in-law invited her to, as a result of having to see and be seen themselves. It was a great excuse to dress up, too. If that wasn’t enough, this was the first stage of her carefully crafted plan. Matt always got invited to these things. She was going to do whatever it took to get him back, up to and including public humiliation.

He was worth it.

Amy wore a strapless chiffon ball gown in shades of blue and purple, with a high ponytail, a pearl bracelet, and her typical flats. She’d get to dance, if she didn’t knock somebody over on the way to the dance floor. Other people managed to get through an evening out without some incident caused by sheer clumsiness. She wished she knew their secret.

Emily and Brandon were the center of attention, as usual. She watched people tripping over themselves to talk to her opera diva sister and her NFL-player-turned-game-analyst brother-in-law. There was an open bar, the food was good, and the live music wasn’t too bad, either. She was looking forward to the parade of pets later in the evening.

Amy saw a familiar head of blue-black, rumpled hair in the crowd, and a shiver ran down her spine. It was time to gather every bit of courage she had and approach him. She needed a drink first, though. She snagged a glass of champagne off a passing tray and drained it with one swallow. She resisted the impulse to barf it up when she saw Matt wasn’t alone.

The woman at Matt’s side was tall, blonde, graceful, beautiful, and really, really rich. Amy recognized her, too. Paula’s family owned the biggest Cadillac dealership in Washington State, and Paula did their TV commercials.

Paula held Matt’s arm. They were talking and laughing with a knot of people who were basking in their light. He seemed like he didn’t have a care in the world. After all, he’d managed to find the perfect woman. They would have gorgeous, socially adept, athletic children.
She
probably never freaked out about a paltry twenty-five thousand dollars, or managed to stab herself with flower wire.

Amy heard Brandon’s voice in her ear. “Get over there and talk to him.”

She couldn’t stop the icy fear that consumed her, or her clammy palms, or the urge to cry. Maybe she needed another glass of champagne. Then again, she typically wasn’t at her best when she overindulged.

“I can’t compete with that.”

“You don’t have to,” Brandon said. “I’ll bet you ten thousand dollars he’ll dance with you if you ask him. I’ll bet you another ten thousand he showed up here tonight because he knew you’d be here, too.”

She narrowed her eyes as she looked up at him. “I’m sure he didn’t have any help finding out.”

Brandon’s eyes sparkled. “Of course he didn’t.”

This was going to be the easiest twenty thousand bucks she ever made, despite the fact she wasn’t actually taking his money.

She took a deep breath, stuck out her hand to shake his, and said, “I’ll take that bet. There’s no way he’s here to talk to me with
her
on his arm. He’s over it.”

She heard Brandon’s chuckle as she moved through the crowd in Matt’s direction.

Matt was leading his companion to the dance floor. For some reason, he glanced in Amy’s direction. He froze in his tracks and stared at her. If her heart weren’t singing with happiness, she would have been appalled at how clichéd locking eyes across a crowded room was.

Paula must not have been watching where she was going, either. She crashed into him, which almost made Amy laugh out loud. For a minute, she didn’t look quite so graceful. Amy actually liked Paula when they’d met at other fundraisers her family asked her to. Paula was with Matt, though, which meant she was not getting anything remotely approaching sympathy from Amy right now.

Matt walked Paula onto the dance floor, drew her into his embrace, and they danced. He kept staring at Amy, though.

Brandon grabbed Amy’s hand. “Hey, dance with me.”

“I was going to go ask Matt to dance,” she hissed. “I have to wait till he’s done, I guess.”

“The hell you do,” her brother in law said. “Watch this.” He moved them both around the dance floor until they were a foot or so away from Matt and Paula. “Ready?” Brandon asked. He reached out to tap Matt on the shoulder. Matt didn’t respond at first. Brandon tapped again. “I’m cutting in, buddy.”

Paula looked a bit surprised, but put her hand in Brandon’s outstretched one. Brandon danced away with her, leaving Matt and Amy standing in the middle of the dance floor.

He looked so handsome in his black tuxedo and bow tie. She couldn’t look away from him if she wanted to. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She swallowed hard. Matt took her hand.

“Dance with me, Fifi.”

She shuffled closer to him. He slid his arm around her. There were so many things she knew she should be saying to him at that moment, but she didn’t know where to start. Maybe the best thing was to use the two little words she should have used a long time ago. To her surprise, he beat her to it.

“Fifi,” he said. “I’m sorry. I acted like an ass. I should have stayed out of it.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. She couldn’t say any more, or she’d start crying like a big baby in front of a thousand people.

He pulled her a little closer. His hand was big and reassuring wrapped around hers. She wondered how she’d gotten through the days since the last time he held her. His scent washed over her. She resisted the impulse to slide her fingertips under his collar and stroke the skin on the back of his neck. She wanted to savor and remember every moment with him like it was the last.

He laid his cheek against hers. All the other things she’d planned to say, to explain why she’d acted as she did and how wrong she was, seemed to stick in her throat. He wasn’t talking, either. They swayed together to the music. The song ended, and the couples on the dance floor applauded. There was an announcement that the auction would start in a few minutes. The dance floor cleared as a result.

Matt and Amy stood alone. Matt didn’t move.

“I can’t let you go,” he whispered into her ear.

He rested his forehead against hers. She looked up into his eyes. The longing and the loneliness there took her breath away. She slid her fingertips into Matt’s shirt collar after all, and slowly stroked the back of his neck. She tangled one hand into his curls. People were probably pointing and staring. Let them. She’d stand out here all night, feeling the comfort of his arms around her. She hoped he felt comforted, too.

Amy heard a woman’s voice over the PA. “Ladies and gentlemen, this one goes out to the couple still on the dance floor.” The singer sat down at the piano, accompanying herself as she sang
How Deep is the Ocean.

Amy had heard the song before. Her parents probably danced to it when they were falling in love, too. She glimpsed Brandon and Emily standing at the edge of the dance floor. He handed Emily the pocket square from his tuxedo jacket; she dabbed at her face with it. Amy could hear people walking back onto the dance floor and feel movement around them, but her world was the circle of Matt’s arms. She closed her eyes. She felt the scratchiness of his cheek against hers, the way he always laid his hand on the small of her back over the stress ache. She pulled breath into her lungs.

“I miss you so much,” she said.

His voice was soft. “I miss you, too, Fifi. Every moment of every day.”

Amy felt a tap on her shoulder. “My turn,” a woman said.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

A
MY SAT DOWN
in the same seat she’d been sitting in for the past five football seasons at Sharks Stadium. She couldn’t afford the expensive covered seats. Then again, the real football fans sat in the elements. She prided herself on being a
real
football fan. No pink jerseys and Bedazzling for her, dammit.

“Hey, Amy.” George called out to her as he arrived at his seats. “Good to see you.” George was the informal leader of the row’s season ticket holders. He’d had his two seats since the 1990s. He and his wife had kids older than Amy. He told anyone that asked that he’d be sitting in those seats as long as he lived.

“I’m happy to be here, George.”

He glanced at Amy. His eyes narrowed. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. I can’t wait for the game to start.”

Amy forced a smile she didn’t feel onto her lips and fixed her attention on the field. The players had just run out to start their warm-ups. It was just like every other football game she ever attended, with one major exception. Typically, she was excited to see her friends, drink a beer or two, and scream for the Sharks. Today, it was hollow.

Matt hadn’t called or stopped by after they danced at the fundraiser a week ago. She finally broke down and called him twenty-four hours ago. He didn’t call her back. She couldn’t seem to tell him all the things she’d wanted to say that night, and now it looked like she’d lost him forever. Just remembering how it felt to hold him again made her want to bawl. Even more, she had nobody to blame for this but herself. And didn’t that just suck? Nobody could compete with him. If she took a risk, she wouldn’t be facing her life alone. The thing she was most afraid of had happened, and it was her own damn fault.

A knot of people materialized from nowhere at the bottom of the seating section, blocking the entire concourse. She couldn’t imagine what was going on. She craned her neck to see what was happening, but the mob seemed to be dispersing as quickly as it had started, with some help from stadium security.

A familiar figure with wavy, rumpled blue-black hair emerged from the crowd of people and climbed the stairs in her section. Amy’s heart started pounding like the drum line over their heads. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Matt wanted to sit outside in the rain in attire that probably cost more than a club-section season ticket. He had on the pressed Sharks polo shirt, dress slacks, and summer weight cashmere blazer the network’s stylist dressed him in when he did a game broadcast. He didn’t usually work pre-season games, so he must have been filling in for someone else today. He scanned the crowd till he found Amy. If he was working, though, he certainly wouldn’t be in the stands.

She tried to pull some breath into her lungs. He didn’t take his eyes off of her. She couldn’t decide whether to jump the seats and throw herself into his arms, or run away as fast as her legs could carry her.

Matt paused at the row Amy sat in, and extended his hand to George. George got to his feet and clapped Matt on the shoulder.

“I was hoping there’d be a seat left in this row,” Matt said.

“I think we might be able to arrange that.” George turned to indicate Amy with a nod. “There’s an empty seat next to Amy. You two know each other, don’t you?”

Amy was going to get on her knees and thank George’s daughter Lisa for not showing up to a preseason game, right after her stomach unknotted and her knees stopped knocking. Matt shook George’s hand again and moved slowly toward her.

She could pretend like she hadn’t seen him, hadn’t watched every step he took up the stairs toward her. It would require her to take her eyes off of him. That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. She opened her mouth to tell him she was mad at him because he hadn’t called, and she spent the past week wondering if she was going to have to live without him for the rest of her life, but nothing came out.

Matt settled into the seat next to Amy. “Fifi.” He slid his arm around the back of her seat. “This place is packed, isn’t it?”

“Why are you here?”

She told herself he wasn’t going to notice her trembling, or the fact that her voice cracked. Of course he did. He took Amy’s hand and kissed the back of it. She thought about yanking it away. She just couldn’t.

“Watching the game. These seats aren’t bad. There’s no free food, but it’s a pretty good view.” Amy noticed that everyone around them seemed to be ignoring what was happening.
Sure, they were.

Her voice finally decided to work. “Don’t you have a seat somewhere else?”

“I wanted to sit with you.”

She heard a roar from the crowd. The team was running back into the locker room. They’d be introduced momentarily, complete with fireworks and cheerleaders. Right now, though, the game was paling in comparison to what was happening in the row Matt and Amy sat in. She loved football, but the real reason her heart kept beating took her hands in both of his and gently rubbed them.

“It’s warm out here, but your hands are freezing.”

She looked out at the field, into the stands, anywhere else but at the man sitting next to her. He continued to rub her hands and his voice was quiet in her ear.

“So, we have things to talk about,” he said.

Her voice dropped, and she leaned toward him. “You never called me. I called you yesterday, and you didn’t call me back. I—I thought you didn’t want to see me again.” She blinked back the tears that threatened. “I felt awful.”

“I was out of town on business, and I had to take care of a few things. I wanted to make sure everything was ready before I saw you again.”

Usually, there was nothing that could knock Amy down. She was going to make it, no matter what. At the same time, the tough part of her had shriveled and died as far as Matt was concerned. All she knew was a grief more profound than any she’d ever felt. Was he just here to torture her?

It took a few minutes for his words to sink in. “What ‘things’? What are you talking about?”