“Some of the guys on the team have their own Web sites,” he said. “I never thought much of doing it myself, though. It just seems like a lot of work.”
“I suppose it depends on what you want to accomplish. If you want your name to become a brand of sorts, then a Web site is a good idea.”
“I don’t think we have a Web site for the bar. Maybe you could help us out with something like that?”
Angela shook her head. “We really have all the work we can handle right now. But I can put you in touch with someone if you’re really interested.”
She glanced at her watch and frowned. They’d been sitting at the coffee shop for nearly two hours. Max had hoped she wasn’t noticing the time. “It’s almost lunch time,” she said. “I should really get to work.”
“You’re the boss, right?” he asked. “Skip work for the day. Let’s go to the ballpark. The Sox are playing. I can probably get us seats in one of the luxury boxes.” He wasn’t sure if she even liked baseball, but the word
Angela wagged her finger at him. “I know what you’re doing. You think that if you run this date into the next and then into dinner it will only count as one date,” she teased.
He sat back in his hair, thoroughly amused. Man, she just didn’t let him get away with anything, did she? Most guys might call her a ball-buster, but he liked that about Angela. She kept it real. “I never thought of that. Thanks for the idea.” He pulled out his cell phone and handed it to her. “Call Ceci and tell her you won’t be coming in. In fact, call her and ask her to join us.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and tell her to invite someone else along. Does she have a boyfriend?”
“Will,” Angie said. “He’s the one who told us about your bar. He hangs out there on Monday nights with a bunch of his friends. You’ve met him. He took a picture with you.”
“Invite him. I’ll get four tickets and we’ll make a day of it.”
He waited while she called Ceci and when she handed him the phone back, she had a bemused smile on her face. “So this is how famous people do things,” she said. “You just make a few phone calls and it’s done.”
“Usually,” he said. “Being a celebrity is good for some things. But most of the time, it’s a huge pain in the ass.”
“What else could you do?” she asked. “Could you get us a table tonight at Charlie Trotter’s?”
“You want to eat at Charlie Trotter’s?”
“No. I’m just wondering if you could get a table there.”
“Probably,” he said.
“Could you get us a table at any restaurant in Chicago?”
“Probably,” he said. Max knew it sounded conceited, but she wanted the truth. And maybe it was better she understood from the start what it was like to be with him. “The thing is, it can get complicated if people know where I’m going to be ahead of time. Then there are cameras and questions. Like, if we were to go sit in regular seats at the game, we’d both be in the news tomorrow. I hate that they’re always in my business.”
“Are you really that good a baseball player?”
“This has nothing to do with my skills on the playing field,” he said. “It has everything to do with my skills playing the field.”
She smiled at the joke. “It’s about the women.”
“Yeah, it’s all about the women. Unfortunately, I realized that too late and now that’s all anybody’s interested in. A few months back, they wrote that I was addicted to painkillers and I was rushed to the hospital after overdosing. My nephew heard about it at school and flipped. He couldn’t stop crying. They’re such leeches. I hate it.”
“Why would they be interested in me?” she asked. “I’m not famous.”
“They’re interested in anyone I’m interested in. I can’t believe there was a time when I thought I wanted that kind of notoriety. I thought it would be cool to date famous women-models and actresses. Have my face in the magazines. And for a while it was pretty much fun. Unfortunately, a nice guy isn’t all that interesting to the press. And if they can’t find any dirt, they invent it.”
“Then stop dating actresses and models,” she said.
“They’re going to be just as interested in you. I’m giving you fair warning. It hasn’t been that bad here in Chicago. The press has kept a respectable distance. And since I told them I was thinking about retiring, I’m not such a hot story.”
“Are you retiring?”
“I haven’t decided,” he said. “Depends upon the rehab.” He paused. “Hopefully, they won’t bother us. But if they do, expect that there will be some pretty silly stories.”
“Like what?”
“That we’re engaged, fighting, expecting a baby, hooked on drugs, dependant on booze, having plastic surgery, planning our wedding, moving to Europe, buying a mansion in Beverly Hills, looking at a condo in Manhattan, getting a dog. I don’t know. It could be anything.”
Angela giggled. “Wow. All that after just one date.”
“It’s not so funny when you’re in the middle of it,” Max warned.
“But we’ll know what’s true,” she said. “It shouldn’t make any difference what they say.”
She was wonderfully naive about it all. And maybe she wouldn’t have to endure the scrutiny of the media. He could only hope they’d be able to get to know each other without having to deal with it.
“So, if I wanted to watch the Fourth of July fireworks from the deck of a yacht on Lake Michigan, you could arrange that?”
“Is that what you’d like to do?” he asked.
“I’ve heard it’s really cool to watch them from out on the lake.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Max replied.
“I was just kidding,” she said.
The fourth of July was a month away. If they were still together after a month, then it would be one of the longest relationships he’d ever had with a woman. And if Angela wanted to see fireworks from a yacht, he’d make it happen. “But today, we’re going to the game.” Max stood and held out his hand to her. “Now, I have to run home and change. But I’ll come back in about an hour to get you and your friends.”
“Where is your car?”
“At home. I ran here. I needed the exercise. Can you make it back to the office on your own?”
“No, I might get lost,” Angela said, shaking her head. “I walk here all the time by myself.”
“Oh, sarcasm,” he said. “I like you even more now. I have a great appreciation for sarcasm.” He leaned close and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you in a little while.” With that, he pulled his sunglasses off the brim of his cap and slid them on. “Look both ways before crossing the street. And don’t talk to strangers.” He jogged backward down the sidewalk, waving to her as he went. “And prepare yourself for a great afternoon.” Then he turned and headed toward home.
As he ran, he felt a wonderful energy pulsing through him. For the first time in a very long time, he was…happy. Over the past three or four years, he hadn’t found much pure joy in his life. Everything he achieved seemed to come with strings attached. But this feeling he had when he was around Angela was simple to understand.
There were so many different things they could do together. The fact that she ran her own business was a big plus. They both had the freedom to come and go as they pleased. They could take off for a weekend in New York or fly down to Florida for a few days. He could steal her away to San Francisco for a romantic getaway.
As he jogged at a stoplight, waiting for the traffic to pass, Max realized he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to take this slowly. “Woo her,” he said. “Court her.”
But how easy would that be? The more time he spent with Angela, the more he wanted to learn everything about her-including what made her pulse beat fast and her body ache with desire. He had no doubt he could pleasure her in bed. In truth, he was much better at that than he was at dating.
“Hey, Max Morgan! Rock on!”
Max glanced up to see a truck driving by with a kid hanging out of the passenger window. He waved and smiled. “Rock on!” he called.
The driver beeped his horn and before long, there were other drivers staring at him and waving. As soon as the light turned, Max jogged across the intersection. Though Max wanted to be a different person here in Chicago, there
