Hello Quarterback (Hello #8)

7. Mia

7

MIA

I asked Vanover to arrange for my personal stylist to come to the office and bring me an outfit for my whatever-it-was with Ford that evening. On one hand, it was like the perfect opportunity had dropped into my lap—a date with a well-respected man who could help me gain favor with the board.

On the other hand, the less pragmatic side of me was giddy that Ford Madigan, the star quarterback of the entire NFL, had been flirting with me.

Deep down, I knew I was a catch. I was determined, kind, loyal, fun to be around, had an amazing job, parents I loved to pieces. Nevertheless, it was hard to ignore what the tabloids and people online said about my weight. Especially when they conflated my size with my looks. They acted like beauty and fatness were mutually exclusive. You couldn’t be beautiful and fat, at least in the court of public opinion.

Of course they were wrong. And apparently Ford Madigan agreed.

When my stylist left my office, Tallie came in, eyeing me appreciatively. “Hayden French gets business attire and Ford gets Miss America? No need to ask who you’re more excited to see.”

I tried not to blush as I batted off her comment and reached for my purse on my desk. “Hayden’s so self-absorbed. I don’t even know why he took a date with me.”

Tallie smiled slyly. “Maybe there’s a rumor going around about Griffen Industries acquiring his record label.”

“Tallie!” I scolded. So that’s why he’d come on so strong. He was trying to score points for his career... just like me.

“Sorry.” She raised her hands. “He would have been major help with the board. That’s what this is all about, after all,” she reminded me.

I needed to remind myself of the same thing. Even if there was a little niggling hope in my chest that this thing with Ford could be the start of something real.

He was handsome, yes, but he was also kind. And modest, unlike so many men of his stature. Most guys who reached his level of success were so full of themselves and never wanted to talk about anything outside of their favorite topic—number one. All the times I’d been around Ford, we’d had real conversations. Ones where he wasn’t dominating or staring at my chest.

“Was Ford on your list of options?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “He’s never dated before.” After a beat, she added, “Do you need anything before you go?”

I shook my head and pressed the button on my desk phone that would call Vanover. “Can you have the car ready?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

I lifted my finger from the button and looked to Tallie. “Wish me luck?”

She smiled. “As your publicist, good luck, and as a fellow female with functioning eyeballs, I can’t wait to hear all about it. Ford is a catch .”

I cracked a genuine smile, one I rarely showed to the men in this company. “Thanks, girl.”

“Any time.”

Tallie and I left my office, both of us stopping by Vanover’s desk. “You can go home, you know,” I told him, adjusting my purse to my other arm. It was always heavy, with a notebook for ideas, a tablet in case I had to work on the go, a book to learn something new, and of course little toiletries I might need throughout the day.

Van looked up at me from behind his computer. “Just a few things to prep for tomorrow. I’m sure Tallie will take enough rest for both of us,” he teased. “Perhaps on a bed of manila folders?”

She clutched her stack of folders to her chest. “Don’t you insult my office supplies.”

“You act like they’re your lovers,” Vanover replied, eyebrow arched.

She winked. “Jealous?”

“Okay, children,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m leaving. Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.”

Vanover smirked. “Bye, Mom.”

“I’m in charge, right?” Tallie said.

Laughing, I gave them a wave and went to the elevator. But when I got in and the big metal doors closed me into the space on my own, my heart started to pound.

Was I really about to go to Ford Madigan’s home ?

According to the address displayed on Zeke’s navigation screen, I was.

I sat in the back seat and dialed my best friend’s number while Zeke drove me toward the outskirts of Dallas. Farrah and I had grown up next door to each other, and as only children, we were the sisters neither of us had.

She’d married my former boss, Gage Griffen, and now the two of them raised four children together in the most adorable home in Denton. The man had billions in the bank, but they both thought it was better to raise their kids in a more modest setting.

After a few rings, she picked up, and I could hear their baby chattering in the background. “Hey, girl, hey,” Farrah said.

I smiled at the familiar greeting and found it easier to settle back into the beige leather seats. “I miss you.”

“Same. I need to have Vanover pencil me into that busy schedule of yours. You know, in between all your dates with pop stars.”

Letting out a chuckle, I said, “You know, I have access to my calendar as well. Text me any time and I’ll set it up.”

“I will,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Well... I’m on my way to Ford Madigan’s house for a date!”

“WHAT?” she cried. I heard her mutter something, probably to Gage, and then I heard a door open and close, and then it got quiet. She must have locked herself in her bedroom. “Tell me everything .”

Fiddling with the hem of my dress, I filled her in on all the drama with stupid Thomas and then the awkward date with Hayden and how Ford had passed me that note at the café.

“Oh my gosh, he totally likes you,” she said, excitement in her voice. “Especially since he was telling everyone at the Cottonwood Falls Fourth of July barbecue that he wasn’t interested in dating. Must have just been waiting for the right woman.”

My lips curled to a smile despite myself. “I haven’t felt this excited about a guy since Ryan Pendleton asked me to prom.”

Farrah laughed. “Ford has way more hair than Ryan Pendleton.”

“Yeah, now. But back then, Ryan had the best hair.” I giggled at the walk down memory lane. I almost hadn’t recognized Ryan at our fifteen-year high school reunion when he came in with his wife of ten years, saying they already had four children and a fifth on the way. We were leading completely different lives now.

“What are you wearing?” Farrah asked.

“Let me send you a pic.” I held the phone in front of me to text her a picture the stylist had taken for me before bringing the phone back to my ear. Out the window, I could see the suburbs giving way to more impressive houses spread out against the countryside.

“Gorgeous,” Farrah said. “He won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

“No sex on the first date,” I replied. I was raised by older-than-average parents who told me all the old-fashioned rules of life—this was one of the few that had stuck.

“Even if the first date’s at his house?” Farrah said, skeptical.

I bit my lip. Would I really be able to resist Ford if he wanted to hook up? I wasn’t so sure. “It has been a while...”

“Maybe the dry spell ends tonight,” she said.

From the front seat, Zeke said, “This is his driveway.” I looked in the mirror, almost blushing. He heard probably more than he wanted to, driving me around all the time.

“Thanks,” I told him, then I said to Farrah, “I’m almost there. Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck with tits like those.”

I cackled. “Love you, bye.”

“Bye,” she said, a smile in her voice.

The car slowed in front of Ford’s place, and Zeke got out to hold the door open for me. “Need me to wait?” I could see a hint of concern in his eyes.

I bit my lip, looking to the front door of Ford’s modern house set in the private countryside outside of Dallas. “I’ll be okay,” I said to both of us. “You can go.”