Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars #6)(92)

With a sigh, she picked up the deck of cards and began to shuffle. “My deal.”



Delaney stayed by Heath’s side as he spent halftime traveling between the skyboxes at the Midwest Sports Dome to press the flesh of the city’s movers and shakers. While he attended the Stars game, text messages were arriving from all over the country updating him on his other clients’ games. He’d been working the phones on and off since early morning, talking to wives, parents, and girlfriends—even Caleb Crenshaw’s grandmother—letting everybody know he was on the job. He glanced at his Black-Berry and saw a message from Bodie, who was at Lambeau Field with Sean. So far, their rookie fullback was having a great year.

Heath had been seeing Delaney for a month, although he’d been traveling so much they’d only gone out five times. Still, they talked nearly every day, and he already knew he’d found the woman he’d been searching for. This afternoon Delaney wore a black V-neck sweater, her great-grandmother’s pearls, and a trendy pair of jeans perfectly cut to fit her tall, thin figure. To his surprise, she broke away from his side and headed for Jerry Pierce, a ruddy-faced man in his early sixties and the head of one of Chicago’s largest brokerage firms.

She greeted Jerry with a hug that spoke of long familiarity. “How’s Mandy doing?”

“In her fifth month. We have our fingers crossed.”

“She’ll make it full term this time, I just know it. You and Carol are going to be the best grandparents.”

Heath and Jerry played in the same charity Pro Am every year, but Heath hadn’t known Jerry had a daughter, let alone that she suffered problem pregnancies. This was the kind of thing Delaney kept on top of, right along with knowing where to find the last remaining bottle of a 2002 Shotfire Ridge cuvée and why it was worth the effort to locate it. Even though he was a beer man, he admired her expertise, and he’d been making an effort to appreciate the vino. Football seemed to be one of the few areas where she wasn’t knowledgeable, preferring more genteel sports, but she’d been making an effort to learn more.

Jerry shook Heath’s hand. “Robillard’s finally looking like himself this week,” the older man said. “How come you haven’t signed that boy yet?”

“Dean believes in taking his time.”

“If he signs with anybody else, he’s a fool,” Delaney said loyally. “Heath is the best.”

Jerry turned out to be an opera buff, another thing Heath hadn’t known, and the conversation drifted to the Lyric. “Heath’s a country music fan.” Delaney’s voice held a sweetly tolerant note. “I’m determined to convert him.”

Heath glanced around the skybox, looking for Annabelle. She usually came to Stars games with Molly or one of the others, and he’d been sure he’d run into her, but no luck so far. As Delaney went on about Don Giovanni, Heath remembered one evening in between introductions when Annabelle had sung every word to Alan Jackson’s “It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere.” But then Annabelle knew all kinds of useless information. Like the fact that only people with a special enzyme in their body got smelly pee when they ate asparagus, which, he had to admit, was interesting.

The door of the skybox opened, and Phoebe came in wearing the team colors, a figure-molding pale aqua knit dress with a gold scarf tossed around her neck. Heath excused himself from Jerry and guided Delaney over to introduce her.

“It’s a pleasure,” Delaney said with obvious sincerity.

“Annabelle’s told me so much about you,” Phoebe replied with a smile.

He let the women chat without worrying about Delaney saying the wrong thing. She never did, and everybody but Bodie liked her. Not that Bodie disliked her. He just didn’t think Heath should marry her. “I’ll admit the two of you look good on paper,” he’d said last week, “but you don’t ever relax around her. You’re not yourself.”

Maybe because Heath was becoming someone better. Considering the train wreck that passed for Bodie’s current love life, Heath felt safe in ignoring him.

Later, Heath met up with Phoebe in the hallway outside the owner’s skybox. Delaney had just headed off for the ladies’ room, and Heath was chatting with Ron and Sharon McDermitt when the Stars’ owner came around the corner. “Heath, can I steal you away for a minute?”

“I swear to God, whatever it is, I didn’t do it. Tell her, Ron.”

Ron grinned. “You’re on your own, buddy.” He and Sharon disappeared into the skybox.

Heath regarded Phoebe warily. “I knew I should have gotten a booster on my tetanus shot.”

“I might owe you an apology.”

“That’s it. No more beer for me. You’ll never guess what I thought you just said.”

“Pay attention.” She shifted her purse higher on her shoulder. “All I’m trying to say is that I might have jumped to the wrong conclusion when we were at the lake.”

“Which of about a hundred wrong conclusions would that be?” He knew the answer, but she’d lose respect for him if he gave in too easily.

“That you were taking advantage of Annabelle. I hope I’m a big enough person to admit when I’m wrong, but you have to remember that you’ve programmed me to expect the worst. Anyway, every time I see Annabelle she talks about how thrilled she is to be making this match between you and Delaney. Her business is blossoming. And Delaney’s lovely.” She reached up and patted his cheek. “Maybe our little boy is finally growing up.”