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Book online «Law #3: Don't Fall for the Athlete: Sweet Second Chance Romance (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (black books to read txt) 📗». Author Agnes Canestri



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but since even Joe orders a scotch, I go along with the others.

“So,” Pete says while he distributes our chips, “we’ll allow players to buy back in, but not more than once. We want everyone to get in on the action, but the pot can’t be dictated by someone who buys back until he runs into Lady Luck. Do we all agree?”

We all nod.

Jimmy mixes the deck with expert hands. “Do any of you know of a good football coach looking for a new job starting from next year?”

“Why? Considering buying a team to go with your jazz club?” Pete teases him.

Jimmy chuckles. “I wish I had that kind of money. I adore football. But no, it’s about Ariana’s nephew.”

“Ariana is his wife,” Devon explains to Joe and me.

“She is. For forty-five years now. That’s a genuine commitment, my friends.” Jimmy pats his chest. “Anyway, back to the boy. Our Richie plays for Valley High School as the Cougars’ safety.”

I plaster on an interested expression, even if my thoughts are circling around what Ellie might be wearing for her date.

My act must satisfy Jimmy because he smiles at me and continues, “My wife just learned that the head coach is retiring after this coming season. Ever since Richie got on the team, Ariana views herself as the team’s unofficial PR manager, and it bothers her that the guy hasn’t started recruiting for his replacement yet.”

Devo chuckles. “That’s typical Ariana. I bet she asked you to use your chance of meeting two experts,” he grins at Joe and me, “and throw in this question.”

Jimmy laughs. “You know my wife well. “

“A year is long. The coach has enough time to find someone worthy,” I say. “The Cougars are solid; their top players are often picked by the Wildcats. They’ll surely find a great coach willing to work them.”

“Ah, I hope so,” Jimmy exclaims. “Above all, for my peace of mind. Ariana can be quite the challenge when she’s chewing on something. Well, if you hear of anyone, let me know, ’kay?”

Joe and I both assure him we will.

Jimmy distributes our cards, and I’m about to lift mine when my phone chimes.

Let’s hope it’s not Dad. I sent him my first and last text yesterday, and I was glad when he didn’t react. I made it crystal clear that he should never ever contact Mom or me again. I wanted to call him, but I realized it might be better to secure written proof that I’ve warned him if I need to file a restraining order.

I let the phone ring three times before I pull it out.

When I see Ellie’s name flashing at me, I freeze.

What shall I do? I can’t answer her with everybody around. Still, I itch to know what she wants. Until now, she’s only ever called me to arrange our therapy sessions.

Isn’t she supposed to be enjoying her dinner with the doctor?

Ellie’s call ends before I can decide what to do about it.

“Everything okay?” Devon asks, leaning toward me.

Luckily, the table Pete bought is so large that my friend can’t peek at my screen.

I fold my phone into my palm. “All is good. It’s Liam, my agent, but I need to call him back. It could be important.”

Joe’s eyes dart to me, and his lips bend into a mocking grimace. He knows Liam and his habit of never interrupting a player’s weekend unless it’s a “life or death” situation.

I straighten from my chair.

Pete points at a door on the other side of the corridor. “You can go into the bedroom if you need some privacy.”

“Thanks.” I head away from the group and force myself to walk instead of sprinting. I might have said that it’s a potentially crucial call, but actually running would surely awaken some questions.

Once I’m inside Pete’s bedroom, I turn on the lights. I hop down on an armchair that sits in front of the king-sized bed with a tufted headboard and glossy silk comforter.

I stare at my phone, conscious of the beating in my neck.

Why am I nervous about calling Ellie back?

Without pondering the implications of my quickened breathing and irregular pulse, I tap on her name and wait for the ringtone.

“Wyatt?” Ellie’s surprised soprano squeaks in my ear, and as if by magic, my shoulders relax.

“Yes, it’s me. I saw you tried to call, but I couldn’t pick up. I was playing poker.”

“Are you at Pete’s?”

“Yep. Dev and Jimmy are here, too. And Joe, my teammate.”

“I see. Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you this late.” Her voice is so flustered, I can immediately picture her cheeks covered in a sweet pink blush.

“You never disturb. What’s up?”

“I’ve got an idea for our therapy, and I wanted to run it by you,” she says, switching to that soothing, professional tone she uses in our morning sessions.

I shift the phone closer to my ear. “Aren’t you on a date?”

There’s silence, then Ellie clears her throat. “I’m back already.”

I glance at my watch. It’s only ten-thirty. An unexpected joy shimmies through me. If it were an unforgettable night, they surely wouldn’t have cut it this short, right?

“That’s splendid news!” I exclaim.

“What is?”

“That you’re home. I mean—” Why did I have to sound like my team just made it through the Conference Championships? “It’s good to know you’re safe. And at home.” I end my phrase with a quick chuckle.

“Ah, okay.” Ellie answers, but some puzzlement remains in her voice.

“So that idea of yours…” I say, to steer us away from my gaffe.

“When was the last time you spoke to your mom about your dad?”

“You mean besides the other day when I rebuked her for speaking to him on the phone?”

“I mean a real heart-to-heart about your father?”

“Never. First, I’m not a heart-to-heart guy, as you know. Second, since that son of a gun left, we mention him as little as possible,” I answer.

“I see. But…”

“But what, Ellie?” My hand squeezes the armrests of the chair. I’m not sure I like where she’s going with this.

“Given the bitter feelings

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