“You’ll need a sponsor for her.”
“I will have one.”
Before Bob could ask any more, he got up. “Is it time we rejoin the others? Do you have what you wanted from me?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever have enough on you. You have a head on your shoulders, and I believe you will do well here. Gear up for more of these. The media is going to love talking to you.”
He smiled at him and added, “Allie won’t have to handle you for long. You’ll have your complete freedom soon.”
That’s what he was afraid of, but he wasn’t going to make it easy.
Bob opened the door, the empty platter in his hand, and they walked amiably down the hall toward the kitchen.
Ida looked up from where she was at the stove, manipulating aluminum foil over the dish. “I was just going to go in and get you. I don’t want this to get cold.”
The front door opened, and a young girl came running in and went right in for a hug from Alicia.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here. I would have come home sooner.”
“It was a last-minute invitation. I had something Dad wanted.”
“What?”
“Our new third baseman.”
Scarlet turned to see him standing there. She looked a lot like their mother, small and petite, with the same auburn hair. Ida was nothing like he’d expected. He’d pictured someone like a Cuban peasant, maybe better dressed but with less sophistication than Alicia. He’d been way off base. She was gracious and warm, with a charm that could entice an asp out of a basket.
“Scarlet, this is Mateo Alvarez.” Glancing at her father Allie asked, “Did you get what you wanted?”
“And then some. You did good, Allie girl. This guy’s going to take us right to the White House.”
Mateo noticed a look of distaste on her face. “Something I’ll skip if I get the chance.”
Mateo asked, “White House?”
“The president always invites the team that wins the championship series, be it baseball, football, hockey, basketball, et cetera. I’m not a fan.”
Bob’s eyes widened. “You don’t turn something like that down.”
“When the time comes, just watch me.”
Ida laughed. “I think you’ve got other things to focus on until then, don’t you?”
“Yeah, like a hundred and sixty-two games.”
Ida pointed to a chair next to Alicia and said, “Sit.”
And he did.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Alicia shot glances at Mateo as he ate, wanting to make sure he was enjoying the food. It was one of her favorites and her mother made it every time she came. From what she could tell, his plate empty of his second serving, he had.
Something else she was seeing was her mother’s inquisitive eyes on her throughout the meal. Ida had probed and prodded while waiting for the men to finish, suspecting there was something more going on between her and Mateo than met the eye. Allie had evaded most of the questions as best she could, trying not to lie outright, and she’d been on the verge of the big reveal when the men came out of the office. Relief had flooded through her.
Since then, most of the conversation had been about fishing villages, Gloucester in particular. Mateo wanted to know all about the history of the town, and her mother had endless stories to tell. Scarlet had been bitten by curiosity about the player himself. She’d asked questions about where he was from, how he got into baseball, what he did as a kid there. He was easy to talk to, and had a way about him that drew people in.
Allie felt the hook herself and kept tugging to work it out.
After getting up, too restless sitting beside him, she’d started clearing the table when Mateo asked, “You didn’t forget about the beach, did you?”
Ida took the dirty silverware out of her hands and said, “Go. You did promise. Scarlet will help me clean up.”
The thought of being outside, beneath the stars with him was compelling but dangerous, as well.
Unwilling to renege, she said, “Sure, why not. I’m finally warm again.”
He all but jumped out of his chair and reached for his coat, adding the hat she’d provided during their shopping spree.
She shrugged into her jacket, yanked a hat out of her pocket and pulled it low on her head, and donned gloves before herding him out the back door and onto the deck. The sun had been down for hours now, but the darkness was illuminated by a million stars twinkling in the sky. She looked up, marveling at the way they made her feel. Small and inconsequential.
Mateo took her hand and tugged. “Let’s walk. It will make me feel like I’m back home.”
She gave him a quick laugh. “If you don’t count the difference in temperature.”
They walked along the path, to the steps, which took them down to the sand.
When she shivered, the chill stealing whatever body warmth she’d hoarded during dinner, he put his arm around her and pressed her close.
A surging heat suffused her, so appealing she didn’t fight him.
“Tell me what it was like growing up here.”
“Like growing up anywhere, I guess, only we’re a lot more closely linked to the sea. My grandfather owned a pub downtown, a gathering place for the fishermen after they came in with their catches. The walls were covered with old pictures of Battery Wharf, boat shops, schooners with sails spread wide at full mast, the waterfront back in the forties. I loved going in there after school, sitting behind the swinging door, eating fried clams and mussels. I could hear the men and women talking about the weather, the hot spots, the complaints about new quotas put in place to replenish the stocks. When Gramps died, my uncle Otis took over and one of my cousins works with him. They still have the old pictures up on the wall but it’s a different place now.”
Her grandfather was the first in his family who’d opted out of fishing for a living. He’d bought the bar,
