I appreciate that they worry and only want the best for me. But I’m a big girl, and I’m meeting him in a very public place. I’ll be fine.
“He’s coming to the hotel to meet me later tonight.” I reach toward the floor and grab my purse, pulling my phone out of it. I need to text him and let him know I’m almost finished. “I’m not leaving the premises.”
“Maybe we should all go with you when you meet this guy for the first time,” Candice says. “What time is your planned rendezvous?”
I check the time on my phone. It’s almost ten. So late. I send him a quick text. Dinner went longer than I expected. Do you want to meet in say an hour?
I want to give him enough time to get ready and get here. I have no idea where he lives, or how long it’ll take him to drive here.
My phone dings and I read the message from Mitch. I can be there in probably twenty minutes.
Oh. Well. I guess we’ll see each other sooner than I thought. He sounds eager.
I kind of like it.
Nerves make me feel a little giddy. Well, nerves and a healthy dose of alcohol.
Text me when you’re in the lobby, I tell him.
“He’s meeting me in twenty minutes,” I tell them as I set my phone on the table. “He’s headed over now.”
“We should go with you,” Candice says yet again.
“No way. I’ll be fine,” I reassure them. The last thing I want is my friends trying to intimidate Mitch. That’s not the first impression I want to make.
“We can all hide and watch,” Stella suggests, her eyes sparkling. “Spy on them in the lobby.”
“Absolutely not.” My voice is firm, and I scan the table, sending every single one of them a stern look. “Please don’t do that. Let me meet this guy in peace.”
“Where are you going?” Caroline asks.
“We’re staying here. Maybe we’ll go grab a drink. Or gamble.” Doubtful, unless he wants to. I’m not big on gambling. I’d rather buy a cute outfit than blow a hundred bucks on roulette or whatever.
“Or maybe she’ll bring him back to the suite. She does have a room all to herself,” Kelsey reminds them, making them all snicker.
Jerks.
“I am not bringing him back to the suite,” I say haughtily, lifting my chin. “We’re not going to mess around like that. Not on the first date.”
I say it with such conviction, I’ve convinced myself it’s true. No way will I bring him back to the room tonight.
No freaking way.
Ten
Mitch
I’m nervous, and I rarely feel that way. Especially about a woman. I’m usually fairly confident, but this woman’s got me on pins and needles, and I’m worried she might not like me. She’s not just some random hookup to me. This is a woman I want to invest time in. A woman I want to spend time with.
Going on a dating app probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do in order to find someone serious, but at least Eleanor doesn’t know who I really am. And that’s my biggest problem. Women who realize I play professional ball always want a piece of me. They don’t even care who I actually am or what I might like. I can’t take them seriously, not when they’re looking at me like I’m an unlimited bank account and they want to go on a shopping spree.
This has been my life since I started with the NFL. Hell, this was my life in college. I’ve never had a steady girlfriend. What was the point? I didn’t need one. There were guys I knew, guys I still know, who play with me or on other teams, and they’ve been with the same woman since high school.
Since high school. Can you imagine?
I can’t. That’s a long-ass time. My grandparents have been married over forty years, and I can’t wrap my head around that. I can barely stand myself. How am I supposed to be with a woman for that long?
It sounds impossible.
Tonight, I’m meeting a woman I’m considering having a relationship with—for the first time. And while I don’t know Eleanor that well, I have high fuckin’ hopes. I have a feeling we’re going to have chemistry, though I’m not sure if Eleanor is even going to let me kiss her. I’d like to kiss her and test this out. She hasn’t given me prude vibes, but who knows?
The fact that I feel patient, that I’m cool with not getting any action from her, has to say something about my maturity level.
Yep. I am a new man.
I arrive at Wilder Las Vegas in exactly twenty minutes, which is some sort of miracle because traffic is shit on a Friday night, and I’m not one-hundred percent familiar with the area yet. I pull into the entrance and steer my truck toward valet parking, because I’m not dealing with that monstrous parking garage tonight.
When the valet kid approaches me, his eyes go wide the moment he sees my face. “Are you Mitch Anderson? With the Raiders?”
I toss him my keys. “The one and only.”
His gaze goes to my gleaming black truck. It’s nothing too flashy, but it did set me back a cool eighty grand. “I’ll take care of your vehicle, sir.” He reaches into his pocket and tears off a ticket with a long number printed in red on the top. “Don’t lose this.”
“Don’t lose that either.” I point at my truck and smile, and I swear he looks like he’s about to piss his pants.
“Um, do you mind…” Nerves make his voice that slightest bit shaky.
When he says nothing else, I decide to help him along. “You want to take a photo?”
The kid nods. I’d put him in his late teens. Maybe even his very early twenties. He looks very young, like he’s playing dress-up in the white jacket and black bow tie all the valet employees are wearing.
“Sure,” I say easily. Never do I want to be a complete asshole who turns down a fan. No one else is even paying us much attention, so I don’t mind taking a photo with him at all. It’s the least I can do.
The kid digs into the pocket of his black pants, producing his phone. He calls one of the other valets over and hands his phone to him before he comes to stand beside me. “Sorry,” he apologizes as we both turn and face his friend, who doesn’t seem fazed by me in the least. Must not be a football fan.
“Don’t apologize. It’s no problem.” I smile and the other guy takes a bunch of photos in a burst before he hands his photo back to the kid.
“Thank you. I’m glad you guys have moved here. I definitely plan on going to a few of your games this season,” he says, full of wide-eyed wonder.
“Thanks for the support.” I was only going to give the valet twenty bucks, but this kid deserves more. I slap two twenties in his palm. “See ya later.”
Pausing in front of the hotel entrance, I pull my phone out of my jeans and send Eleanor a quick text. Just arrived. Where are you?
I enter through the revolving door and come to a stop, absorbing the glittery opulence of the Wilder Hotel lobby. This place is chic as fuck, and those are words I would’ve never figured I’d think, but it’s true. No stale cigarette smoke or the clanging sound of slot machines coming from the casino in this lobby. Hell no. All I see is low lighting and elegant furniture. Jazz music plays, though it’s not too loud. The air smells like a motherfuckin’ flower garden on a perfect spring day, and the men and women who are standing behind the sleek counter helping guests are all really attractive.