The Gate to Everything (Once Upon a Dare Book 1) (28 page)

Blake put his arm around her shoulders. “We want one of these, don’t we, babe?”

“We’re doing our darndest to have one,” she told Jordan. “It’s just taking a little longer than I’d hoped.”

“You’ll get there,” he said, trying not to make light of her frustration.

He and the rest of the guys had all been thrilled about Blake and Natalie’s reconciliation. They seemed stronger and happier than ever after their brief divorce. The main reason he’d arranged for them to come was to set Grace at ease. She’d always gotten along with Natalie since they were both in the food industry and called things like they saw them. He was also hoping that seeing their friends so happy together might make Grace more open to marriage. He hadn’t bought a ring yet, but he’d been doing his research.
 

After making her wait for seven years, he wanted to go all out. He needed her to understand he wanted to marry her for her—not just because they had a child. Though a part of him was still scared of messing things up, he was learning that balance and communication were the key. They certainly had the love.

“Come on in, but try and be quiet,” Jordan said. “Grace should be down pretty soon. She’s going to be so happy to have you guys at the game with her. Thanks for coming last minute.”

Once they were all inside, Jordan led them into the den and kitchen area.
 

“Oh, look at the spread,” Natalie said.

“Please make yourselves at home,” he told them. “Let’s see if she wants to go to you now.” But Ella gripped his shirt in her little fists. “Okay, sweetheart. No rush. You’ll get there when you’re ready.”

Blake gave him a hard pat on the back. “It’s great to see you like this, man. I can’t say it enough.”

Ella suddenly turned her head and squealed, and Jordan knew Grace had arrived unsuspected. He locked gazes with her when he turned around.

“I thought it might be nice for you to have a bigger group of friends at the game,” he said simply.

“Natalie! Blake!” She put a hand to her mouth as tears filled her eyes. “This is…”

“We know it’s a total shock,” Natalie said in her no-nonsense voice, crossing the room and hugging Grace. “But I hope you’re cool with us flanking you as you walk into the dreaded owner’s box and shake hands with all the ‘important’ people. It’s so good to see you, Grace. It’s been too long.”

“Yes, it has,” Grace said, smiling when they released each other. “I was so happy to hear you and Blake got back together.”

“Me too,” Blake said, hugging her as well. “Congratulations on the most beautiful baby in the world.”

“Thank you,” she said and then turned to him. “And thank you, Jordan.”

The vulnerability in her green eyes undid him, and he found himself unable to even smile. “I wanted you to be accompanied by the best people I could think of. No one is a better protector than Natalie.”

His lame attempt at a joke had the woman snorting. “It’s terrible we even need protecting. Right, Grace?”

She nodded, still looking at Jordan.

“I remember what it was like to go to this guy’s games,” Natalie said, jerking her thumb at Blake. “I’d gussy up and hope I was presentable, but there would always be some awkward photo of me where it looked like I was picking my nose. It was like the press was going out of their way to make me look ugly.”

“Are you regretting this plan yet?” Blake asked Jordan.

No, this was exactly the kind of solidarity he’d hoped Natalie would have with Grace.

“And then there’s all the women in the box,” Natalie continued, looking up as if beseeching heaven. “Sure, some of them are nice and normal and have real breasts like you and me, but some of them… I used to have the urge to bring some scarves to drape over their ample chests.”

“Tell me you didn’t bring any scarves,” Blake said. “I can see the video footage on the local news now.”

“You know what I mean,” Natalie said with a frown. “Anyway, we’ll go to the game with you tomorrow and eat lots of awesome food because usually they don’t scrimp on that at least. And we’ll root for Jordan. After which, you can come home to this beautiful little girl you have, and I can sit back and thank God yet again that Blake retired from professional football.”

“Babe, please don’t hold back on how you feel,” Blake said with a groan.

She sidled up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You know I love you, but you also know what I’m talking about. The women who love you guys deserve a special badge of honor.”

A special badge of honor? Was it really that bad? Then Jordan remembered everything Grace had gone through in the press—from the cruel stabs about her looks to the mob scene that had surrounded them after baby furniture shopping.

“You’re absolutely right, Natalie,” Jordan said, giving Grace an encouraging smile. “We’re lucky you put up with us.”

“Amen,” Natalie responded with enthusiasm, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m glad you realize it. Jordan, I think whatever you have in the oven is done.”

Grace rushed over and opened the door. “Yeah, I can smell it too. Oh, strata! Jordan, where did you get all this food?”

“I captured an Italian food fairy,” he said with a laugh.

Blake gave a snort, his shoulders shaking.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Grace said, taking the pan out of the oven. “Let’s eat.”

Jordan didn’t stuff himself like the others did since he had practice. But he did feel more settled now that he had their friends around, like he and Grace were back to old times with them.

They fell into comfortable conversation, and Grace and Natalie were catching up about Marcellos and Natalie’s job as the head caterer and right-hand of celebrity chef Terrance Waters at The Grand Mountain Hotel in Colorado.
 

By the time Jordan finally rose to head to the stadium, Ella was sitting on Natalie’s lap and cooing at her. Grace was laughing as Natalie droned on about professional football players’ fascination with fake breasts and butts. Blake was smiling indulgently, his arm slung over the back of his wife’s chair.
 

“I need to go,” he said, giving Grace a kiss on the cheek. “Love you.”

“Have a great game tomorrow since I won’t see you,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “Love you too.”

Jordan sank down until he was eye-level with Ella, who was leaning back against Natalie’s chest. “And you, sweetheart. You root especially hard for Daddy tomorrow.”

Blake shook his hand, and they shared a look that spoke of mutual understanding.

“Play your game,” Blake said, echoing the words of Coach Garretty.

*
 
*
 
*

When Jordan called in reinforcements, he didn’t scrimp. Grace had always enjoyed his Once Upon a Dare brothers, and Natalie was a gift from heaven. Her wisecracks about the hype around professional football were enough to put a stitch in Grace’s side—and they made her feel like she wasn’t the only one the press had picked on.

On the drive to the game the next day, Natalie told her story after story about the myriad ways in which the press had made her life difficult, and Grace knew she was doing it to make her feel better. It still worked.

They picked up Carlo on the way to the game, and by the time they all made their way up to the owner’s box, Grace felt some of that Midwestern grit her mother had reminded her she had. Jordan had gone to great trouble to support her, and his efforts helped fortify her courage all the more.

Of course, Carlo’s promise that he’d grab one of the knives from the buffet and filet anyone who so much as made a wrong move toward her bolstered her spirits too, especially when Natalie said she would join him. Her colleague and Natalie had hit it off, talking about foodie stuff, and it felt good to see her world and Jordan’s unite in this new way.
 

“You’re going to do fine, Grace,” Blake said as they walked into the box. “If you need any of us to step in, just say the word. I wouldn’t mind kicking someone’s butt on national TV.”

Natalie threaded their arms together. “Smile and remember: the people in this box know they need to be nice to you. You’re Jordan’s, and they want to keep him happy.”

Right. She just hated that their reception of her was more based on Jordan than on any interest in her.

“Grace!” she heard a man call out, and looked over to see the Rebels’ owner himself, Chaz Hallowfield, parting the crowd to reach them. “And you brought friends. Blake Cunningham. Good to have a great quarterback in our midst. And Natalie. Jordan has said wonderful things about you.”

“I’ll bet,” Natalie said dryly.

Chaz laughed, the wrinkles around his eyes growing more pronounced. “And Carlo Medzioni,” Chaz continued, surprising Grace with how well he’d memorized the names Jordan must have given him. “I’m a big fan of Marcellos.”

As Grace recalled, Chaz was over fifty and had inherited his money from a family fortune in oil and real estate. Married more than once, he was an unapologetic Southerner who could be both charming and ruthless. She’d never trusted him.

“How is that beautiful little girl of yours and Jordan’s?” he asked, showing her his dentist-white teeth. “My wife and I keep hoping we’ll get the chance to meet her and welcome her into the Rebels’ family. Everyone is so eager to share in your good fortune. Including the fans.”

Grace didn’t believe he was the least bit sincere, and neither did Natalie from the way she locked their arms together even more securely.

“Our daughter is still pretty young,” Grace replied. “There will be plenty enough time for that.”

Grace had a feeling that if the owner thought it would make Jordan happy, he’d host a lavish first birthday party for Ella when the time came. No way was she allowing this man to get his hands on her daughter for PR.

“I’m sure she’s the sweetest thing,” Chaz said, “but none of us have seen so much as a photo of your daughter. Jordan has been incredibly tight-lipped about her despite how much the Rebels’ fans want to celebrate with him.”

There it was again. From her earlier interactions with Chaz, she remembered him circling back to points when they hadn’t originally gone his way.

“Since we all know Jordan isn’t usually tight-lipped,” Blake said with what Grace thought was an equally fake smile, “we should respect his wishes. He’s got good instincts about things. So does Grace, by the way.”

She gave him a smile. “Thanks.”

Chaz raised his hand in the air. “Of course Jordan does. He came to Atlanta, after all, and he chose Grace here. Any man could see he has good taste. I’m sure Grace has good instincts too. She’s a successful chef in her own right.”

The man’s pandering was going to drive Grace crazy. “Perhaps you could tell us where we’re sitting, Chaz. I’d like to make sure we’re settled before the game starts.”

“Goodness me,” Chaz said with extra Southern charm. “Get some grub first. Jordan asked me to put y’all in the back, as far away from the press as possible. Of course, it would be lovely if you would show your face a little, Grace. Especially since you and Jordan are back together.” There was a feral gleam in his eye as he said it.
 

“I’m here to support Jordan,” she told him pointedly. “Not to give the press a story.”

“Coming here to support Jordan after you broke up with him and had his baby is a heck of a story, honey,” Chaz said, his tone patronizing enough to put Grace’s teeth on edge. “Don’t kid yourself.”

Blake put his hand on Grace’s back. “I’m not used to being in the box during a game or enjoying all the food and drink you guys supply. Since Grace is the accomplished chef here, I hope you don’t mind if I borrow her so she can help me pick the right things to try.”

As a retreat, Blake’s play was a smart one, and from the way Chaz smiled at him, the owner seemed to know it.

“Try the lobster, Blake,” Chaz said, gesturing to the buffet. “It’s delicious today. I found a new chef. You might know him, Grace. Simon Querald.”

Was he trying to remind her that her kind of people made the food for shindigs like this? “I don’t think Simon and I have crossed paths.”

“There are a lot of chefs out there, Mr. Hallowfield,” Carlo said.
 

“I know you have many demands on your attention, Chaz,” Blake said. “If we don’t have a chance to chat with you again, I hope you enjoy the game.”

He cocked his brow. “Y’all as well. Make yourselves at home and holler if you need anything.”

Natalie steered Grace toward the bar. “Please tell me you’re drinking at least a little while you’re nursing. I’ll need a Manhattan after that exchange. Good heavens is he full of himself.”

“Red wine,” Grace said, wanting to crack the tension in her neck. “And yes, he’s a pill. Always has been.”

“Good job,” Blake said as they approached the bar. “You held up. That’s all anyone could ask.”

“Some of the owners act like they’re gods,” Natalie said, ordering Grace a glass of red from the bartender. “Chaz is clearly one of them. I’m glad Mr. Farnsworth isn’t like that. He’s the owner of Blake’s former team, the Denver Raiders.”

“That guy is a jackass,” Blake said, patting her on the back.

“A
testa di cazzo,”
Carlo agreed.