For the Love of the Game

by Rhonda Laurel

  “Morgan, can you please come to the front? There’s someone here to see you,” Michelle said via the intercom.

  She sighed, hoping it wasn’t one of her brothers complaining because she took a taxi home from the airport. Good grief, were they ever going to let her grow up? Morgan pushed past the double doors from the stockroom and walked, with heavy steps, to the front of the store. What she found was a vision, standing quite handsomely in denim jeans that fit his body perfectly and a blue shirt. He may have been out of his element but she would know that body anywhere. Seth.

  “Hi Morgan.”

  “Hi.” She beamed a bright smile, then it faded when she remembered his secret.

  “Can we talk?”

  “I’m not sure I want to talk to you, Mr. Blake.”

  Michelle chimed in. “Of course you want to talk to Seth Blake! We just got in a box of his biography. I was going to unpack them today. Maybe you could do a book signing here! That would help us out quite a bit.”

  “Michelle.” Morgan cut her eyes at Michelle in an effort to silence her. “Mr. Blake is not welcome here.”

  “Are you kidding me? We have the Golden Goose right here in our bookstore and we’re not going to ask him to lay one egg? No offense.”

  “None taken.” He laughed.

  “What do you want, Seth?” Morgan said.

  “Well, I was in the area and I thought it would be nice if I took my wife to lunch,” he said with a great big smile as he held up the marriage certificate.

  “You’ve got to be joking.”

  Seth sighed. “Apparently Alvin wasn’t as crazy as he seemed to be.”

  * * *

  Talking to Morgan in between her ringing up customers was getting him nowhere. And if she wasn’t helping a customer, she would dash off and do anything but address what he’d told her. So he left to give Morgan some time to process the bomb he’d dropped, but he came back after closing, hoping to take her to dinner.

  “Sorry, I have to get ready for the festival tomorrow. But thanks anyway,” she said, not looking at him.

  “I can help, and we can order in.”

  “Not busy tonight? It is Friday.”

  “And where am I supposed to be on Friday night?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t you have some bimbos on-call or something? I saw that picture of you with Melanie Leighton in the paper. She looked like she didn’t mind your company.”

  Melanie Leighton was a supermodel he’d dated off and on and he had run into her at a benefit he’d attended the other night. A photographer had taken their picture, hence the rumors that Melanie was Seth’s new bride.

  Seth laughed. “That picture was taken out of context, and I am a married man. I don’t date anymore.”

  “You two make a good-looking couple. What is she? Five-ten?”

  “Five-nine.”

  As soon as he’d heard that camera flash, Seth knew he’d have some explaining to do. The benefit had been on his calendar for months, and it was for a good cause, so he’d attended. The benefit was scheduled when he and Melanie were dating so she’d decided to keep her ticket. The breakup had been slightly messy, but he was happy that she had moved on; she was even cordial to him. When the cameraman appeared she was actually telling him about some rich businessman she’d met in Milan named Jean Paul. She’d said she was happy, and he was happy for her. His attempt to give her a friendly congratulatory hug captured on film had them back in the limelight as a reconciled couple.

  Morgan grabbed her list and walked to the back room. She began pulling books off a shelf and placing them on a rolling cart. There was a title on a top shelf she needed to get, and she craned her neck back to see it; she turned around, looking for the ladder.

  “I’d like to see you reach those.” Seth’s voice boomed from the doorway. “I can reach it, you know, without a problem.”

  “And all I have to do is ask?” she said grumpily.

  “Nope. My mama raised a gentleman.” He casually reached up and took down the books. “I’m starving; you want to order something?”

  “There’s an Italian place around the corner. They have really good food.”

  “So Italian it is. What would you like?”

  “Surprise me.” She went back to her list. She handed him her door keys so he could let himself back into the store.

  “Okay. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

  Morgan was so immersed in gathering her list and tidying up she didn’t notice the time. The smell of—spaghetti, or was it chicken parmesan?—took her over as the back room began to fill with fragrant aromas of garlic and tomatoes. She looked up and noticed the overhead lights of the store were off, but the lights from the lamps she had placed sporadically near armchairs were lit.

  It gave a cozy and intimate feel to the store.

  Then she heard the violin. A violin? A violin softly played a heavenly serenade as she walked slowly to the front of the store. She did have a sound system, but the clarity of the violin was too crisp to be a recording. She approached the door and opened it to find a table for two set with a nice white linen cloth and dinnerware, another table holding a variety of foods, and a violinist playing passionately in the corner.

  “Dinner is served, madam.” He winked at her.

  “I thought you were going for takeout?”

  “I did. You didn’t tell me what you liked, but luckily for me everyone at the restaurant adores you. So I spoke with the owner, Anthony, and he helped me out a bit.”

  “I thought you were going for takeout,” she repeated like a drunken parrot.

  “And you also said to surprise you.”

  “I did say that.” She smiled. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

  Seth held out a chair for her. He sat as a waiter served them. “I ran into Melanie at that benefit. It wasn’t intentional.”

  “And it’s none of my business,” she said quietly.

  “Well, I wanted to explain. We’ve been getting along great, and I don’t want you to think I was being duplicitous or something.”

  “Fair enough.”

  He coughed. “I did have an ulterior motive for coming here tonight.”

  “What’s that?” She swirled spaghetti with her fork.

  “I was wondering if I could have my book signing here.”

  “Why on earth would you have it here?”

  “This is a bookstore.” He looked around. “I thought it was kind of a no-brainer.”

  Morgan took a sip of her wine. “I can’t believe a bigger bookstore isn’t vying to have your signing with them.”

  “I did have a contract with Montgomery Swift Books, but there was a snafu, and I am now looking for a place to hold my signing.”

  “The largest bookseller in the country has a problem hosting your book signing?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His eyes twinkled.

  “I’m afraid I can’t offer you anything on the level they would.”

  Seth glanced around the store. “This place is intimate, so I would have more control over who my publicist invited. And it would be good publicity for your bookstore.”

  Morgan wrestled with the idea of hosting his book signing. It would generate business for the store. But it would also get them closer to being found out by the media.

  Seth continued to talk. “Morgan, please don’t over think this. I promise it will be a good experience for both of us.”

  “All right. You have a deal.” She smiled and held out her hand for a handshake.

  He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “My publicist will have a contract delivered on Monday.”

  * * *

  Morgan loved attending the festival every year. She would set up her booth early, nearly in the same spot every year for five years running. She didn’t normally bring anyone with her from the store, but she knew she would see people she knew.

  By early afternoon the festival was packed, with people strolling from booth to booth. As usual she was asked if she had the fiv
e latest best sellers, which she did, and was glad to see them sell. She’d also brought books about travel and political commentary and hoped some of them would move too. She noticed while unpacking her merchandise that her assistant manager, Michelle, had packed some of Seth’s books.

  The evening with Seth had been almost perfect. He’d dropped her off at her apartment around one in the morning but she was too wired to sleep. She’d decided to make a cup of tea while processing the events of the night. Morgan hummed as she mulled around the kitchen while waiting for the teakettle to whistle and decided to turn on the news.

  There was a special news segment in progress. “We at WQTE have just confirmed that quarterback golden boy Seth Blake has a married a local woman. It was first speculated that he’d married on-again, off-again model girlfriend Melanie Leighton, but Ms. Leighton’s people have denied these rumors…”

  As the report continued Morgan stood frozen by her kitchen sink, hoping they wouldn’t mention her name.

  * * *

  The title of his biography was Love of the Game, and they couldn’t have selected a better cover. It was a picture of Seth after he’d lost one of his games. She could see the devastation and the humility in his eyes. The words tugged at her heart. This was no biography about a rise to fame and glory. It was an in-depth analysis of loss and failure, and from reviewing his mistakes, he became a better football player and human being. Seth was very careful to speak plainly and succinctly about his life. He told the story about how he’d become interested in football and how his destiny was spelled out for him at an early age. There was a chapter in which he stated that he’d thought about giving up and pursuing something else, to have some semblance of a normal life, when he realized he’d become a corporation. He eloquently ended that chapter saying that once a person has set something big into motion, he has an obligation to the world to see it through to the end.

  There seemed to be something happening at the end of the line of tables, but she couldn’t see. She heard someone say, “Is that really him?” The ruckus seemed to be moving its way down toward her station. Oh well, she thought, it would make its way to her anyway, so she picked up the book she was reading and sat back in her chair. Then she remembered she’d forgotten to put out the bookmarks she had in the plastic bucket and turned to look for them.

  “Miss, can you recommend something to read?” a deep voice asked as she bent over the plastic storage tub.

  “Sure. I’ll be right with you. Is there a particular genre you like?” She turned to see Seth with a big grin on his face. He was standing there with three of the biggest men she’d ever seen in her life. She knew one of them was Patton Hawkes, the linebacker for the team. The other two guys looked vaguely familiar as well.

  “How about romance?” Seth grinned.

  “You don’t strike me as a romance kind of guy,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I missed you,” he drawled, those green eyes burning right through her. “This is Patton, Terrance, and Dante.” All of the men stepped into her space and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Did you sell any books yet?” Patton asked, looking around.

  “Just a few. The festival is going on until seven. There are really good food vendors here if you guys are hungry.”

  “Smells good.” Patton laughed and rubbed his stomach. “We’re going to educate Seth here on soul food.”

  “Good luck with that.” She laughed. She turned to see where he’d gone, but he’d parked himself in the chair she’d been occupying.

  Seth glanced into the tub and saw his face. “Why isn’t my book on the table?”

  “Uh…there was no room.”

  “Huh,” he grumbled.

  “Please, like me selling your book here is going to put a dint in the already skyrocketing sales.”

  “No, you’ve done that all by yourself.” Seth gave her the once-over. She looked refreshed. One would never be able to tell they’d stayed up half the night talking and packing books. Or that she’d talked until she fell asleep in his arms on the long leather couch in her store.

  “How did I do that?”

  “People are interested in why I would put a book out, disappear for a few months, then pop up married before the season started. Like there’s some big puzzle to solve in the last chapters of the book. Or at least that’s what my publicist said. And besides, you’re hosting my book signing. That could be good publicity for the bookstore.”

  A crowd started to form around Seth and his teammates. Seth casually reached into the bucket and pulled out his books and signed the copies. He then passed the books to the rest of the team, who also signed, and, what do you know, people were lined up to buy his book. The books went like hotcakes, with Seth and the boys putting on a little show for the fans, answering questions and playing with some of the kids. While they did that, some people actually wandered past to buy a book. As Seth signed the last copy of the book, which he gave to one of the kids he’d been chatting with, he stated, “For anybody who wasn’t able to purchase a copy today, you can get autographed copies at my book signing next week at my wife’s store, Reed Books. It’s a lovely little bookstore; feel free to come down and browse. I bet she’s got whatever book you’re looking for. I know she has what I need.”

  Seth winked at her, then turned to the crowd. A few of the ladies sighed. All eyes were on Morgan. Then someone yelled, “Can I get a picture of you and your wife?”

  “Sure,” Seth said. He slid his arm around Morgan, thinking about the bruised rib. She was tough. She bounced back in no time.

  “Couldn’t come by yourself? Had to bring reinforcements to the African American Heritage Festival?” she asked as they posed for the picture.

  “No, I was on my way when Patton called, and I told him where I was going. He wanted food,” he said with his movie-star smile.

  “I read your book.”

  “Did you? What did you think?”

  “Thought it was weird at first that you wanted to discuss in great detail every game you’ve blown in your entire career, including the peewee league. But then I realized after every failed game, you grew as a person somehow. Defeat taught you how to be a better player.”

  “Where you were you when I was trying to explain that to my biographer? He fought me tooth and nail, but I won.” He laughed.

  She was getting used to hearing that laugh. “A great man revels in his victories and defeats with the same measure.”

  “You are absolutely right. Where did you hear that?”

  “Just in one of many books I’ve read.” She smiled. “I can see why these people adore you.”

  Seth glanced down at the gold chain that gleamed against her brown skin. The chain seemed to be holding something heavy as it disappeared down into her T-shirt. He then glanced at her hands. With his smile still in place he asked, “Morgan, where is the ring I gave you?”

  She reached up and touched her collar. “I know it’s silly, but I wear it around my neck.”

  “About the ring. I know I told you I got it from the gift shop, but that wasn’t exactly true. I actually went to the jewelry store in the hotel and bought it.”

  Morgan gulped. “So what are you saying?”

  “Let’s just say it cost more than my parents’ first house,” he drawled. Seth found that even more amusing. If his father found out how much money he’d spent, he would have gone bonkers.

  “I’ve been letting this thing hang off my neck for days. Someone could have taken it!”

  “Well, if you’d kept it on your finger you wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

  “I don’t want to put on this ring until I know what it means. I’ve been waiting for you to bring up an annulment.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that too.” Seth moved her over to the other side of the tent, away from the ears of the crowd. “What if we don’t want to get an annulment? I’ve been meaning to ask what you thought about it, but I was afraid you would say something I didn�
�t want to hear. Maybe we can continue…dating?”

  “You don’t date your wife.”

  “Sure you do. My dad always told me that’s how you keep a relationship alive. You can’t let little things or everyday living wear away a relationship. Romance is eternal, he says.”

  “Did your daddy also tell you to marry virtual strangers you meet on islands?”

  “No.” He laughed. “But he did tell me to keep my eye out when miracles come my way. I had a good feeling since the day I met you. And I take pride in my gut feelings. The last time I made a decision off my gut, I got a forty million dollar contract.”

  She let out an exhausted breath. “All that money you have. I am a pauper compared to you. It’s not right. It’s not fair. I wouldn’t feel right being with you.”

  “Since when does money have anything to do with how you feel about a person? I know you don’t care about my money. You never bothered to ask me what I did for a living when you met me.”

  “And I insulted your livelihood countless times.”

  He laughed again. “Well, that was definitely an exercise on my ego, but I lived. It felt good not talking about houses, yachts, and my career for a while.”

  Morgan closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Morgan, what do you want?” he asked.

  “I want you to invite me to dinner.”

  “My place tonight.”

  “Um, tonight’s not good. The festival doesn’t end until seven.”

  “Okay, I’ll buy the rest of your inventory.” Seth reached into his back pocket and pulled a black credit card out of his wallet with a logo she’d never seen before.

  “There has to be at least two thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise here.”

  Seth arched his eyebrow but didn’t comment.

  Morgan laughed. “Let me guess. This has a hundred thousand dollar limit?”

  “You could probably buy a plane with it if you like.” He grinned.