The All-Star Antes Up (Wager of Hearts #2)

by Nancy Herkness

  Chapter 5

  Back inside the suite, the televisions were tuned to the postgame show.

  “I can’t believe Archer went for it,” one of the commentators said.

  “You can’t tell me that was Coach Farrell’s idea.” The second one shook his head.

  “No, that was all the Iceman,” the third commentator chimed in. “Archer had that play in his back pocket and was just itching to pull it out when the Cardinals weren’t expecting it.”

  “He had something to prove today after throwing interceptions in back-to-back games,” talking head number one said.

  “I guess that puts to rest the rumors about a shoulder injury,” the second man added. “You don’t throw like that if you’re hurting.”

  Miranda had never in her life paid any attention to sports commentary, but she found herself enthralled by the discussion of Luke Archer’s performance and health. Her interest faded when they moved on to an analysis of the Empire’s defensive brilliance, so she accepted the glass of wine Milt brought her with gratitude.

  “I never knew watching football could be so exhausting,” she said to Patty.

  Her sister-in-law gave her an appraising glance. “So how well do you know Luke Archer?”

  “I’ve probably spent a total of fifteen minutes in his company. But you get kind of invested when you know one of the players.”

  “He’s not just one of the players, honey,” Patty said. “He’s a superstar. What’s he like in person?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “No, I mean when he’s not being Mr. Football Player.”

  Miranda considered her impressions of Luke Archer. Other than the ones she wouldn’t talk about. “Well, he’s surprisingly low-key. Or as low-key as someone who looks like a combination of the gods Thor and Apollo can be.”

  Patty grinned and fanned herself. “You said it, sister.”

  Miranda didn’t want Patty to think she only cared about Luke’s impressive physical attributes. “He gets involved when his brother needs help, and he was very generous to me with all of this.” She waved her hand around the suite. “And that’s about all I can say.”

  “You’re as bad as a lawyer with all your confidentiality rules,” Patty said, but she was smiling.

  “Hey, ladies, they’re interviewing Archer.” Dennis drew their attention back to the television screens.

  Luke’s sweat-darkened hair clung to his skull. He wore some sort of athletic undershirt that hugged his muscular shoulders, and his chin bore a smear of what looked like dried blood. Yet Miranda wished she were the one standing close to him as the quarterback bent his head to catch the reporter’s question.

  “So I guess that final touchdown pass proves all the rumors about a shoulder injury wrong,” the willowy brunette reporter said.

  The quarterback’s attentive expression didn’t change. “I don’t know how the rumors got started.”

  “They started because you’ve thrown interceptions at critical times in two games,” another reporter pointed out.

  Luke flashed that self-deprecating smile Miranda had become familiar with. “Well, you know, sometimes an interception is just an interception.”

  The reporters chuckled. With one answer, Luke had turned the tide of the interview. She watched him field a few more questions, his expression varying from that dangerously disarming smile to grave consideration. His eyes never changed, though—they retained the same ice-cold focus.

  “He’s good.” Miranda admired his strategy because she often used similar methods with her more temperamental clients.

  “In so many ways.” Patty gave an exaggeratedly languishing sigh.

  Dennis nudged her. “Hey, I’m right here.”

  After a few more minutes, Milt opened the door to admit Heather. “Time to go meet some players,” she said to Theo. “Do you have your program with you?”

  Theo scrambled off the couch and grabbed the commemorative booklet. “Yes, ma’am.”

  They gathered up their coats, thanked Milt for the great service, and reluctantly left the luxury of the VIP box.

  “Well, it was nice to live like a rich person for a few hours.” Patty threw a wistful glance backward.

  “Those luxury suites are fantastic, aren’t they?” Heather said. “When they built the new stadium, they paid serious attention to the details.”

  As they sailed down in the elevator and followed Heather through a labyrinth of hallways and doors, Dennis and Theo peppered the hostess with questions about the players and the stadium. By the time they reached the lounge, Heather and Theo were fast friends. Theo’s wide-eyed enthusiasm, combined with the good manners Patty insisted he learn, had that effect on people.

  “Oh. My. God . . . goodness,” Dennis said as he halted and looked around the spacious room.

  At first, Miranda didn’t understand what he was so impressed with. The carpet was blue, of course. The walls were decorated with photos of football players and the Empire logo. The sofas, chairs, and tables were standard high-end office furniture, also in the Empire’s blue with accents of gold. Clumps of people dotted the room. She could identify the players because they wore stylish suits or blazers and stood head and shoulders above the fans, most of whom were dressed in team jerseys and baseball caps. She scanned the crowd but could not find Luke. He must still be trapped in the locker room.

  Dennis remained where he’d stopped. “I can’t believe the amount of talent in this room,” he said.

  “Oh, so that’s why your mouth is hanging open,” Miranda teased.

  “Dad, that’s Dante Rogers.” Theo pulled on his father’s hand. “Can we go meet him?”

  “I’ll introduce you.” Heather started toward a gigantic man with magnificent dreadlocks.

  “Go ahead,” Miranda said to Patty. “You know who these guys are. I would just embarrass myself.” She didn’t want to interfere with any true fans getting to talk to their favorite players.

  Patty followed in Theo’s wake. Miranda smiled as the huge man grinned and bent down to scrawl his name on the little boy’s program. Dennis said something to him and they shook hands.

  A charge of excitement ran through the room. Miranda glanced around to find Luke Archer walking in through the players’ door. His blond hair was still damp enough to show neat comb marks, and he wore a perfectly tailored charcoal gray suit with a white shirt and an Empire blue-and-gold tie. Miranda could barely catch her breath.

  Half the fans abandoned the other players and surged toward him. A couple of men in dark suits stepped forward to flank him and control the crowd, much like the linemen who protected him on the field.

  He chatted and signed several autographs before raising his head to sweep his gaze over the milling throng. When his attention seemed to lock on someone near Miranda, she turned to check behind her. There was no one else standing near her. As she swiveled back, she saw he was walking straight in her direction. He was coming to talk to her.

  Her heart did a little cha-cha of excitement.

  As he strode across the floor, several people tried to waylay him, but he just smiled, nodded, and kept walking until he stood in front of her. The air around him seemed to glow with energy, an energy that pulsed through her own body as he got closer. His minions had fallen back a pace and were subtly keeping the other fans away.

  “I knew you’d look good in an Empire jersey,” he said, his dimple flashing. “Did you enjoy the suite?”

  At the sight of his smile, Miranda’s mouth went dry, so she had to swallow before she could form words. “It was fantastic, but I enjoyed the game even more. Congratulations on your win!”

  His response was automatic. “It was a team effort.” He looked around. “Is your nephew here? I wanted to make sure to say hello.”

  “I’m here.” Theo slipped past the suited guardians and raced up to Luke. “You were awesome. I was afraid you were hurt.”

  Luke knelt in a fluid motion so he was at eye level with Theo
. The powerful athlete in his custom-tailored suit bringing himself down to look a small boy in the face socked Miranda somewhere right around her heart. “No, I just got the wind knocked out of me. Rodney D’Olaway has sharp elbows.” Luke winked. “And I can’t take all the credit. The whole team was awesome.”

  “This is Theo Tate,” Miranda said to Luke. “I think he already knows your name.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Theo said, belatedly holding out his hand. When Luke shook it, Theo looked down and said, “Wow, I just touched the hand you throw the football with. It’s cool that they let you shake hands. I mean, what if one of your opponents squeezed your fingers really hard on purpose?”

  Luke chuckled. “Don’t suggest that to the Cowboys. They might try it.”

  “Thank you for the football and the jersey,” Theo said. “Would you sign my program, too? I’m kind of collecting everyone’s name.”

  “Sure thing.” Luke pulled a pen out of his breast pocket as Theo turned to the page with Luke’s photo on it. The quarterback signed his name legibly under his picture.

  “Awesome,” Theo said. “I mean, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Luke gave the bill of Theo’s cap a friendly tap and rose to his spectacular height. Miranda caught a spark of warmth in his pale eyes. So he genuinely liked kids. Odd that he didn’t have any of his own. There must be thousands of women who would volunteer to have his babies. The heat dancing through her urged her to join the willing egg donors.

  Patty and Dennis joined them, and Miranda once again made the introductions. Dennis spouted some football jargon that Miranda didn’t understand, while Luke responded in the same language. Patty just stood there with a look of pure bliss on her face as she let her gaze rest on the quarterback.

  “I have more autographs to sign,” Luke said with a wry glance toward the waiting crowd.

  “Thank you for a truly memorable afternoon,” Miranda said while disappointment rippled through her. She wanted to soak in the golden glow that seemed to surround Luke. “I am now an enthusiastic Empire fan.”

  “You mean you weren’t already?” He shook his head in mock disappointment. “Well, that’s how we build ticket sales, one fan at a time.”

  Miranda felt the tug of his charm in all the places she shouldn’t. “Judging by the noise in the stadium, you’re running a pretty successful campaign. Now go greet the rest of your admirers. We’ve taken enough of your time.”

  He nodded, and she was pleased to see his eyes still held some of the warmth she’d noticed with Theo. Then he stepped forward and was engulfed by the waiting crowd, leaving her feeling bereft. All she could see was his gilded hair above the sea of blue jerseys.

  She sucked in a breath, trying to shake off her shockingly intense awareness of the man.

  Dennis and Theo went off in pursuit of more autographs, but Patty stayed behind with Miranda.

  “Good Lord in heaven!” Patty said. “He saw you and walked right across the room to talk to you.”

  “He was looking for Theo,” Miranda said. But she had felt that searing rush of exhilaration at being singled out for his attention.

  “Girl, he only wanted to meet Theo because of you.”

  “He promised to stop in to see my nephew. That’s all,” Miranda said, trying to fix that thought in her own mind.

  “Well, you should have heard people trying to figure out who you were,” Patty said. “They were divided between an actress and a model.”

  Miranda burst out laughing. “That’s just because they couldn’t imagine Luke Archer dating any other kind of woman.”

  “That’s not true. You’re beautiful,” Patty said with more loyalty than truth. “You’ve got gorgeous, thick, glossy hair . . . when you let it down out of that ponytail. And those big brown eyes make men want to fall into them.” Patty sighed. “I wish I had your figure, too. My waist will never be as small as yours again.”

  Miranda hugged her. “You’re blind, but I know it’s because you love me.”

  They plunked down in two armchairs and watched Theo and Dennis circulate among the other players. But Miranda never lost track of Luke Archer as he moved through the room—greeting fans, signing shirts, hats, and programs, and accepting congratulations. With his tailored suit and flashing smile, he reminded her more of a presidential candidate or a movie star than a football player. She said so to Patty.

  “He’s a little of both, Miranda. That man carries hundreds of millions, if not billions, of dollars on his broad, gorgeous shoulders. He’s the face of the franchise, so he is a movie star. And think about it—he can practice endlessly, but he doesn’t know what his costars’ lines are going to be. It’s all improv, kind of like a political debate. He has to be a pro, on and off the field.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure for one person.”

  “Well, if anyone can handle pressure, it’s the Iceman.”

  Miranda wondered, though. Could anyone be that impervious to the responsibilities placed on him? She thought of him in the office with his brother. Trevor was another of his obligations.

  Heather came over with Theo and Dennis in tow. “The meet and greet is wrapping up. I have some goodies for you in my office.”

  “Oh, gosh, we already have plenty of goodies,” Miranda said, feeling a pang of distress that she wouldn’t get to say good-bye to Luke. “You’ve been a terrific hostess.”

  “Mr. Archer told me you’re a concierge.” Heather pulled a business card out of her blazer pocket and held it out to Miranda. “If you ever need tickets or something special for your clients, just give me a call or drop me an e-mail. I’ll make sure they get taken care of.”

  “That’s very generous of you.” Miranda rummaged in her purse and found one of her cards. “The same goes for me if you need theater tickets or a restaurant reservation in New York City.” It was the least she could do, because having Heather as a contact was going to make her professional life much easier during football season.

  “Hey, thanks!” Heather said, tucking the card away. “Okay, let me get you to your car.”

  As Dennis drove to the station so Miranda could catch the train back to her apartment, Theo paged through his book. He ran his index finger over the autographs from the players as though he couldn’t quite believe they were real. “Aunt Miranda,” he said, turning his face up to her, “you are the most awesome aunt in the whole world.”

  Miranda thought her heart might swell right out of her chest. She put her arm around Theo’s thin shoulders and hugged him against her side. “And you are the most awesome nephew in the whole world.”

  “She’s the most awesome sister in the whole world, too,” Dennis chimed in, throwing Miranda a laughing glance over his shoulder.

  “And sister-in-law,” Patty added.

  But it was Luke Archer who was truly awesome. He had provided the tickets and the collectibles. He had made a point to meet a small boy, an encounter Theo would probably talk about for the rest of his life.

  Unlike many of the wealthy, privileged clients she worked with, he had done his best to make up for the problem his brother had caused. She felt a squeeze of regret that she wouldn’t have any further dealings with him. It had been a surprise to find a streak of genuine decency behind the polished facade.

  Not to mention experiencing the full force of that famous dimple up close and in person. As the memory of her breasts crushed against the muscled wall of his chest lit up her insides, she decided it was fortunate that she wouldn’t see him again. She was a struggling assistant concierge from Smalltown, New York, and Luke Archer was a superstar as well as a client.

  But none of that mattered anyway. Luke would go back to his penthouse far above her little office and never think of her again.

  She just prayed Orin never found out about the VIP box.

  Chapter 6

  By the time the PR director released him from the meet and greet, Luke was sweating from the agony in his side. In case someone was watching, he strode down
the hall to the trainers’ office with his usual smooth stride, but it took all his willpower to do it. Reaching the door, he swung it open, stepped through, and slammed it behind him before he sagged against it.

  “Jesus, it hurts like a son of a bitch,” he said as Stan hurried around the desk to help Luke to a chair.

  “It could be a cracked rib,” Stan said. “Where’s the worst of the pain?”

  Luke pointed to the place where D’Olaway had connected with his rib cage. “I can’t have a cracked rib. Not now.”

  Stan gently prodded at the spot, making Luke wince at what felt like daggers slashing into his flesh. The trainer shook his head. “You have to get an X-ray for this. If there’s a broken bone in there, it could slice through a blood vessel or puncture a lung. You don’t want to die for football.”

  “Maybe I do,” Luke said, trying to get comfortable in the chair. “Go out in a blaze of glory.”

  Concern clouded Stan’s eyes. “What’s going on, son? Why are you talking crazy?”

  Luke scrubbed his palms over his face, sending another bolt of agony into his side and making him hiss. “I’m not crazy. Just tired and pissed off that I let Rodney get to me. Davis was out of position, and I was so focused on making the pass that I forgot to check my blind side.” In fact, he’d been coddling his shoulder so he didn’t tweak it again with a misthrow, and that’s why he’d neglected to keep an eye on his opponents. That pissed him off even more.

  “If you don’t get an X-ray, I’m going to sic Doc Tyler on you, and then Junius will know about your injury.” Stan lifted a hand when Luke opened his mouth to object. “The X-ray is nonnegotiable. We’ll find a private doctor who won’t rat on you.”

  “Where do we find a doctor like that on short notice?” Luke asked. “Your closemouthed buddy Colangelo retired, and I’m not exactly hard to recognize.”

  “Let me think. I used to know another guy who would keep his mouth shut for cash, but I think he moved to Florida.”

  Luke started to lean back in the chair, but his side spasmed again. He gritted his teeth. Then he remembered Miranda Tate. Concierges had connections everywhere, so she might know a doctor who could keep secrets. Furthermore, discretion was her religion.