An After-Hours Affair

Eleven

After Mitch’s stupid slipup about going steady last night, Jenny had left his house. It had been nothing but a joke, but it had obviously rattled her. And now he didn’t know how to fix it.

This morning, he was frustrated and in no mood for Cole’s interference. He glared at Cole across his office desk. But Cole didn’t back down, parroting Mitch’s words. “No, this is absolutely not rich, successful Cole Maddison, throwing poor, pathetic Mitch Hayward a bone.”

“Then give me an explanation.”

“The explanation is that you should get your head out of your ass.”

“You’re saying the White House randomly thought of me? A washed-up quarterback from Royal, Texas, who hasn’t won a significant sports award in nearly a decade?”

“No. Someone at the White House probably watched your touchdown rush in the Folder Cup, saw your charitable endorsements to Childhood Special Teams, read about your work with underprivileged teenage players, noticed the hundreds of thousands of hits on your fan site and heard about your Youth Outreach Award from the governor last week!”

“Keep your voice down.” Mitch’s office door was closed, but Jenny could arrive at any moment.

“Then listen to me. This is not some fabricated, make-work, patronage position invented out of pity. You’d have a staff, a budget, three regional offices and a mandate that covers the country.”

Mitch drew back, trying to wrap his head around the unexpected proposal. “And it’s the President’s council.”

“The President’s Council on Physical Fitness.” Cole’s voice was flat, his frustration still evident. “You’d be the Director for Children and Youth.”

Mitch tried to picture it, but couldn’t.

“Listen,” said Cole, backing off and plunking down in one of the two guest chairs at the front of Mitch’s desk. “It sucks that you got hurt. It truly does. But you did, and you can’t change that. So, you can sit around and cry about it, or you can pick yourself up and dust yourself off, and get going on the rest of your life.”

Mitch resented Cole’s implication. “Have I, ever once, come whining to you in self-pity?”

“You’ve got a lot of self-discipline. I’ll give you that. But actions speak louder than words.” Cole glanced around the big office. “In December, this gig’s going to end. And then what?”

Mitch had been trying hard not to think about that. But Cole was dead right on that count.

“And it has to be in D.C.?” Mitch forced himself to think through the potential of the unexpected offer.

“You gotta be where the action is. Part of your job will be to schmooze senators and congressmen to make sure the program is well funded.”

“I don’t schmooze.”

Cole barked out a laugh. “After the embezzlement and sabotage here two years ago, you nearly single-handedly brought the TCC back from the brink of disaster to a solid, thriving organization.”

Mitch gave a snort of disbelief. “If this paternity thing with Brad blows up…”

“I’m sure you’ll deal with that, too. My point is, you do know how to schmooze. You’ve got the gift for talking anybody into anything.”

Mitch knew he could hold his own when it came to persuasion. He’d never thought of it as lobbying, but he supposed that wasn’t too much of a stretch.

“And your celebrity doesn’t hurt one little bit,” Cole continued. “Plus, you’ve proven your ability to engage young people beyond the realm of sports. I can’t imagine anyone more perfect for the job.”

“Do you need a soapbox of some kind to stand on?”

“Was that a joke about my height?”

Mitch barked out a laugh at Cole’s unexpected response. “Emily really got to you over the short thing, didn’t she?”

“Emily…has seen the light.”

“Congratulations on that, by the way.”

Cole gave a nod of acceptance. Then he waggled his brow. “Take a look.” He reached into his jacket pocket and extracted a black velvet box, handing it over to Mitch.

“You’re going to ask her?”

“I am.”

Mitch snapped open the box to reveal a big square-cut diamond surrounded by miniature sapphires. Something hitched in his stomach, and he found himself thinking about the ring he’d offered Jenny last night. Stupid.

He had nothing in him but a joke, while Cole was ready to take a lifetime plunge.

“You worried?” he asked, genuinely curious about how Cole could be so certain about his decision.

“Not really. I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

That wasn’t what Mitch meant. But he had to admire Cole’s confidence. “As long as you’re sure.”

“What’s not to be sure about?”

“It’s for the rest of your life.”

“Hey, when you know, you know.”

Mitch closed the box and handed it back. Would he know? Should he know? Did he know?

“Did you like the ring?” Cole asked.

“It’s fine,” Mitch answered absently.

Cole grinned. “You couldn’t give a damn, could you?”

“Not in my frame of reference,” he lied, pretending he wasn’t thinking about putting more than just a football ring on Jenny’s finger.

He shook away the ridiculous idea. This was a brand-new infatuation, a knee-jerk reaction to his career ending. And if he tried to make more of it, tried to force it, he risked hurting Jenny even more than he already had.

“D.C., you say?” he asked Cole.

“Yeah. Why do you keep asking?”

When he thought about leaving, Mitch’s thoughts went straight to Jenny.

There was no good choice in all this.

“Go to D.C.,” Cole insisted. “Check it out. See if it fits. If it does, you’ll have a great Beltway office. You’ll be doing good for the youth of America. It’ll keep you out of trouble. And they’ll pay mileage on your jet.”

Mitch drummed his fingers on the desktop. He supposed there was no harm in talking. And, who knew, maybe they’d be willing to wait a few weeks, or maybe a couple of months. Surely by then his relationship with Jenny would have run its course. She’d probably be itching to be rid of him.

“You’ll keep this to yourself?” he asked Cole.

“Won’t tell a soul. Not even Emily.”

Especially not Emily. If Mitch did this, if he did this, he’d have to be very careful about when and how he told Jenny in order to keep from hurting her.

As she stared at the three sets of house plans taped to the wall in the mostly bare, airy room on the second floor of Cole’s house, Jenny tried to forget about the debacle two days ago, when Mitch had offered her the ring.

Mitch’s joke about going steady had driven home for her just how quickly and how thoroughly she’d fallen under his spell. In the split second it had taken for her to come to her senses, she’d realized how desperately she wanted go steady with him, to have him be an ongoing part of her life.

“Time’s up,” Emily said from beside her. “They’re shaping the foundation tomorrow. Are you going with your heart or your head?”

Emily had been the one to insist that they continue to consider all three sets of plans.

Jenny’s heart was leading her toward the whimsical French country house. But she’d trusted her heart last night, and look where it got her.

What started off as a relaxed romantic interlude had ended in awkwardness and embarrassment. She’d all but fled from Mitch’s house, and then this morning, he’d abruptly left town with the lamest of excuses, some vague story about paperwork and the football team.

“I’m going with my head.” She moved to stand in front of the two-story, three-bedroom, telling herself she’d be happy there.

Emily came up beside her. “Funny. Lately, I’m leaning toward my heart.”

Jenny forced herself to smile, not wanting to inflict her mood on Emily’s happiness. “Did he ask you yet?”

“Tonight.”

“He gave you advance warning?”

“He says he found the right ring. And we have reservations on the rooftop at Chez Jacques. I can fill in the blanks.”

“You’re going all the way to Houston for dinner?”

Emily waved a dismissive hand. “There’s a helicopter involved. Millionaires are crazy.”

Jenny leaned into Emily’s shoulder, determined to be happy for her good friend. “That’s fantastic.”

“It is,” Emily sighed. “You can’t even imagine how smart he is. He gets calls from New York and D.C., Switzerland and Brazil, movers and shakers in the high-tech world, politicians, even movie stars. They want his advice. They want to be his friend. And he’s funny, wickedly funny. But he’s not geeky. He’s not even short.”

Jenny couldn’t help but smile at that. “He magically stopped being short? Imagine that.”

Emily gave her hair a little toss. “Five-eleven’s not short. I was giving him grief about it on the dance floor, when I was asking about Emilio.” A blush formed on her face. “Man, was Cole ticked off about that. Anyway, he’s making a point, and I realized he was towering over me. And then I realized how much sense he was making, and how much I respected his opinion.”

She rolled her eyes. “Listen to me. I sound like a dork. Back to your house.”

“You’re not a dork.”

Emily pointed. “So, this one.”

“This one.” Jenny nodded. “Definitely.”

“I would have bet you were going to go the other way.” Emily cocked her head at the French country house. “I was beginning to think-”

“Mitch left this morning,” Jenny blurted out.

Emily drew back in obvious surprise. “Huh?”

“Not that I didn’t expect it. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” Jenny had given away her insecurities two nights ago, probably panicked Mitch. Why couldn’t she have just joked right back? Why did she have to freeze up like a schoolgirl?

“What do you mean, he left?”

“He went to D.C.”

“On business?”

“He said it was football business.”

Emily searched Jenny’s expression. “And?”

“And, I think he lied.” Suddenly dizzy, Jenny braced a hand against the wall.

Emily reached for her. “Jenny?”

“I’m fine.”

Emily took her arm and helped her to one of two armchairs in the corner of the large rectangular room.

“What the hell is going on?”

Embarrassed, Jenny eased down into the chair. “Same old, same old. I’m crazy about him, and he’s just having a good time. I thought I could handle it. I really did.”

“Did he say that?”

Jenny shook her head. “Two nights ago…well, he joked, and I kind of freaked, and this morning he left. And I don’t know what that means. And I’m trying not to care. But I do care.” Her chest hitched. “I really do.”

Emily crouched down next to the armchair, placing her hand over Jenny’s. “I’m so sorry I went on about me and Cole.”

“I’m sorry to be such a wet blanket.” Jenny felt a sting in the back of her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know why I’m so emotional.”

“PMS?”

Jenny laughed. Wouldn’t it be nice to have such a simple explanation? In fact, now that she thought about it, maybe that was the explanation. She did the math in her head.

She usually got her period on a Saturday. Was it this Saturday? It had been nearly three weeks since the wedding, and before that-

Her stomach crashed into a free fall.

“Jenny? You just turned white as a sheet.” Emily tightened her hold.

Jenny struggled not to panic. “Do you have a calendar?”

“Sure. In my phone.” Emily produced the phone and pressed a few buttons with her thumb, holding it out for Jenny to see.

“Which weekend did we go to the Albatross Club?”

Emily turned the phone so that she could see the calendar. “That had to be the twelfth. Because it was a pay week for me.”

A roar sounded in Jenny’s ears. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, no, what?”

“Oh, frickin’ no.”

“What?”

“I had my period that weekend.”

“And?”

“And, I’m just doing the math.”

“But-” Emily’s eyes went wide, and her mouth formed a perfect circle.

Jenny stood up from the armchair and took two staggering steps backward. “It can’t be. No, no, no.”

“The night of the wedding?”

Jenny made an inarticulate exclamation.

“You must have used a condom.”

“We did. We did.”

“Then the mathematical odds are in your favor.”

“Right.”

Emily was right. Jenny forced herself to calm down. What she needed now was more information.

At the interview in D.C., Mitch had been offered everything Cole predicted and more. It was a significant and meaningful job, with a laundry list of perks and a chance to work with kids all over the nation. If he had to leave professional football, there was no better way to do it than this.

So why was he hesitating?

Why had he asked the White House Senior Advisor for a few days to make up his mind? It wasn’t geography. He’d never planned to stay in Royal long-term. And if he wasn’t with the team, it didn’t matter where he lived. The salary was great, plus he’d built up an almost embarrassing nest egg through appearances and endorsements over the years.

So, it wasn’t the money. It was Jenny. It always came back to Jenny. He didn’t want to leave her.

He paused in the lobby of the Rathcliffe Hotel, gazing unseeingly through a shop window. First he only saw a reflection of the lights behind him, then slowly his eyes focused on the shiny jewels in the display. Against a backdrop of autumn maple leaves, gold necklaces, platinum bracelets and colored stones of every description were arranged on crystal stands.

He found himself staring at a round diamond solitaire, set in platinum, with tiny emeralds at each side.

“Nobody buys an engagement ring in a hotel gift shop,” came a familiar voice.

Mitch shook himself back to life and turned to see Jeffrey. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re playing in Baltimore tomorrow night.”

“And that brings you to this hotel how?” Mitch resented Jeffrey’s sudden appearance. He really wanted to be alone.

“Cole told me you’d be here.”

Mitch cursed out loud. “He swore he’d keep quiet about the job.”

“He didn’t tell me why you were here. Though you just did. What job?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re looking at a job in D.C.?”

“None of your business.”

“What about Jenny?”

“None of your business.”

Jeffrey braced a hand against the wall. “You’re zoned out staring at engagement rings here, Mitch.”

“I’m not staring at anything. I’m just zoned out.” Mitch paused. “I’m thinking about the job.”

“So, that’s it. You just leave her? Thanks for the memories.”

“It was always going to be like that.” Just not yet. Not yet.

“You’re a moron, you know that?”

Mitch clamped his jaw against an angry outburst. What the hell was Jeffrey doing here anyway? “Why are you here?”

Jeffrey’s tone abruptly changed. “I heard the verdict came in on your shoulder.”

“Twenty to life,” said Mitch, knowing he sounded bitter.

“Man, I’m sure sorry about that.”

Jeffrey and Mitch’s friendship definitely didn’t lend itself to talking about their feelings.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“It sucks.”

“I’ll live.”

“Mitch.” There was clear compassion in Jeffrey’s tone. He was in a better position than most people to understand what Mitch was going through.

“You know,” Mitch gave in. “Half the time, I think, yeah, I’ve had a good run, better than most, longer than most. I am thirty, and it ain’t gonna last forever. Other times, I want to put my fist through a wall.”

“Might want to use the left.”

Mitch coughed out a cold laugh. “Good advice.”

Jeffrey slid his glance away. “You know I’m here for you, right?”

“Thanks.” They didn’t need to belabor the point. But Mitch appreciated the offer.

Jeffrey cleared his throat. “So, when does the job start?”

“I haven’t said yes.”

“Are you going to say yes?”

Good question. Mitch shrugged. “I guess it’s more about the timing.” So, how long did he need? Two weeks? Two months? The TCC Board had made it clear all along they would understand and make arrangements if he needed to make a career change. But how could he possibly pick an end date for the relationship?

“And more about Jenny?” Jeffrey guessed.

“It’s complicated,” Mitch allowed, tired of pussyfooting around.

“Make it simple.”

“I can’t.”

“You know, man. If you don’t want her.”

Mitch felt his blood pressure spike, and his hands curled into fists. He struggled not to snarl at Jeffrey. “You can’t have her.”

“Dude. Did you just see what you did there?”

“Showed some good taste?”

“Your head flies off at the mere thought that some other guy might look at her.”

“Not every other guy.” Just guys like Jeffrey who would most certainly hurt her. Mostly. And, yeah, okay, all the other guys, too.

“Yes,” Jeffrey articulated slowly. “Every other guy. And I’ve already made my position crystal clear when it comes to Jenny. So you have less reason to worry about me than most guys. But look at you.”

Mitch couldn’t argue. For a long moment, he found himself imagining her expression if he was to give her that ring in the window. And then what? Marry her?

Part of him wanted to go for it, but a more rational part worried this was all happening too fast. It couldn’t be real.

“Let’s go grab a beer,” Jeffrey suggested.

“Only if we change the subject.”

“No problem.”

“The lounge is on five.”

“Let’s leave the hotel. There are some great places down Pennsylvania Ave.”

Mitch shrugged. What did it matter? Liquor was probably as good a way as any to switch up his thought patterns. And he didn’t really care where he drank it.

A uniformed doorman let them out, and they turned right, going against the majority of pedestrian traffic along the wide sidewalk. It was four in the afternoon, late enough that the business crowd was swelling the streets, while last-minute shoppers rushed through their errands. The street was a maze of cars, minivans, buses and high-end automobiles ferrying VIPs from meetings to dinners to corporate and political functions.

“See, if it was me,” said Jeffrey, pulling on a glass shop door. “I’d wow her with something along these lines.”

Confused, Mitch glanced at the sign. Too late, he realized Jeffrey had just ushered him into the showroom at Tiffany’s.

“Very funny.” Mitch gave a mock laugh, while a salesman quickly approached them, obviously appraising the quality of their suits and watches as he did.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the man greeted heartily.

“Just looking,” Mitch quickly put in.

“Something in a solitaire,” said Jeffrey. “The last one he liked had a couple of small emeralds.”

The man beamed. “I’m Roger Stromberg. At your service. Please, let me show you our Esteme collection.”

He motioned them toward one side of the store, and Jeffrey immediately fell in behind.

“I’m outta here,” Mitch declared.

Jeffrey clapped a firm hand on his back. “Wouldn’t try it if I was you. You’ve got a bum shoulder, and I’m a better tackle.”

“This joke’s gone on long enough.”

“He’s got cold feet,” Jeffrey loudly explained to the salesman, dropping his large frame into one of two padded chairs in front of a display case.

“I understand.” The suited salesman gave a sage nod. “Thing to remember in this circumstance is that picking out a ring doesn’t commit you to anything. We’re happy to keep it on hold for a period of time. Or we’ll simply use today to make sure you understand your options. Then if, at a later date, you want to make a quick decision, you’re all set.

“These ones here-” he pulled three rings from the display and set them in their cases on top of the glass “-are all flawless, D and E.” He glanced up. “Do you mind if I ask your price range?”

“Not an object,” said Jeffrey.

Mitch gave up and took a seat. “I sure hope you’re the guy popping the question,” he said to Jeffrey. “Because I’m just a spectator on this.”

Jeffrey and the salesman exchanged a significant glance, but Mitch just chuckled to himself. Jeffrey wasn’t going to goad him into anything so rash as choosing a ring.