70. Natalie

Chapter 70

Natalie

“Nat!”

I pause, hearing my dad’s voice call out from his office.

I haven’t exactly been avoiding him since we work in the same building, one hall away from each other, but I also haven’t gone out of my way to see him since that day.

But to be fair, he’s been doing the same.

And if he assumes that I leave right at five because I’m in a hurry to get home to my husband, well, that’s his assumption to make.

Which is the exact assumption I want people to make.

But in reality, I’m going back to my hotel to work on my laptop from bed.

It’s a fine hotel, nothing fancy, nothing like the room I had in Vegas, but it’s one of those extended-stay places with a separate bedroom, a mini kitchen with a table, a desk, and a couch-TV area. So my four suitcases and I are quite comfortable.

“Nat!” Dad calls again, and I turn, lunch in hand, back toward his door.

When I step into Dad’s office, I pull up short, not expecting the giant man standing in front of his desk.

“Uh, hi.” I’m sure my eyes are wide. This guy is huge. Definitely a football player.

“Hi.” He smiles warmly and holds out his hand.

I shift the cafeteria salad and bottle of cherry sparkling water into my left hand, then take his offered one with my right.

“Natalie Wagner.” I introduce myself.

His smile doesn’t waver. “Harrison Danvers.”

“Linebacker, right?”

Harrison is six foot something and wider than two of me, with short light brown hair and smile lines next to his eyes. But friendly or not, I cannot imagine being tackled by this guy.

Harrison nods. “Right.”

He lets go of my hand and takes a step back, thankfully not saying anything about my recent change in marital status.

“Harrison here is a big supporter of Marie’s House, so he’s going to join us at the Mazzanti fundraiser in a couple weeks,” Dad explains.

“Oh, that’s great.” Some of my tension over being in the same room with my dad starts to melt away. If he can act normal, then so can I. “I’ve heard rumors of them opening a second location.”

Harrison nods. “I’ve heard the same rumors. And really happy to hear y’all are involved with their fundraising.”

I relax a little further. “So are we. The Mazzantis are good folks.”

“Yes, yes.” Dad claps his hands together. “Well, Harrison, I didn’t mean to keep you so long. But glad you two got a chance to meet. And we’ll be cheering you on tomorrow night.”

The big man nods to my dad. “Appreciate that. Hope we can pull a win for you.”

“Wouldn’t mind if you did,” Dad jokes.

Harrison dips his chin to me. “It was nice to meet you, Natalie.”

“You too.” I smile.

Since it would be weird to sprint down the hall ahead of him, I step out of the way and let Harrison leave Dad’s office.

I wait a moment before moving my gaze to meet Dad’s. “He seems nice.”

Dad’s smile is a little more hesitant than it was a moment ago. “He is.” He gestures to the round table in the corner of his large office. “Want to eat that in here? I was just gonna order something to be brought up.”

I only chew on my lip for a second before nodding.

While Dad calls down to the cafeteria, I pull out a chair and take the lid off my salad. The food here is remarkably good, but I shouldn’t be surprised since they feed hungry football players along with the staff.

“So.” Dad sits opposite me. “Want to join me in the owner’s box for Sunday’s game?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” I answer honestly.

The Biters played an away game last week, so this will be the first time we get to see them play in person since Dad bought the team. And no matter how uncomfortable things might be between us right now, I don’t want to miss that.

“Your, uh, husband”—he clears his throat—“can join us.”

Oh right.

That detail.

“I’ll ask him.” My voice is a little higher than usual. “I think he might have a team thing though.”

I made that up, but since he won’t answer my calls or texts, there’s a chance that it’s true. Schrödinger’s schedule. Or something like that.

My left thumb automatically rubs at the underside of the pink band circling my ring finger.

I hate that I kind of love the cheap silicone ring.

I hate that I have to wear it for show.

I hate that if Luke were talking to me, I’d still want this ring and not one with diamonds.

“Good, good.” Dad taps his fingers on the table, then lets out a large sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Dad, you don’t⁠—”

“No.” He cuts me off. “You look stressed and exhausted, and you shouldn’t look that way as a newlywed.”

I try for a smile. “Just busy.”

He shakes his head. “I know what your busy face looks like. This is different. And I’m sorry for my role in it.”

“Please don’t apologize.” I don’t like how he handled everything, but I can’t exactly blame him for his reaction.

And since I’m still lying to him, it doesn’t feel right for him to apologize.

I slump in my chair. “I wasn’t expecting that stupid video. I should’ve known better, and I’m sorry for the attention it’s brought the company.”

Dad makes a disagreeing sound. “No. I was being unreasonable. You were in an elevator alone, not on the strip. And really, instead of being mad, I should’ve been grateful it took you thirty-two years to make it into the tabloids.”

I snort. “I’d prefer never being in the tabloids. Or on ESPN. Or on the freaking news.”

Dad laughs. “People love celebrity shit.”

I make a face. “I’m not a celebrity.”

He smirks at me. “You’re rich. It’s the same thing.”

I make another more disgusted face.

“And,” he keeps going, “you married a well-known professional athlete. People are gonna care.”

I want to tell him the truth.

I want to tell him everything.

But as I open my mouth to do just that, one of the building staff knocks on the doorframe and enters with my dad’s lunch.

Watching Dad unbox his sandwich, I decide to stay quiet. At least for today.

Telling him will only make him want to get involved, and this is my problem to fix.