I open the door. "You ready, Hannah LaRosa?"
Her eyes crinkle with what I know is a smile, and she walks out. She pulls her mask down and mouths, "thanks" before disappearing down a long corridor.
Now it's time for me to find my husband.
Chapter 30: Xavier
It's only when Ophelia returns that I realize she was gone a long time.
"You okay?" I inquire.
She nods. "Better now. Just chatting it up."
"You already met someone new?" I mean it as a joke, but my tone comes off dour. Perhaps because, and I haven't the foggiest idea why, the thought of her talking to any bloke in this room agitates me.
It shouldn't, I know.
It's simply because I don't want people thinking the wrong thing about my wife, and in turn, me. I can't afford it.
That's it. It's not because I'm picturing her smiling for someone else, or someone else enjoying that wide, generous mouth the way I did a bit ago. That would be ridiculous.
"Oh yes, I was off making sweet passionate love with some guy who passed me by in the hall."
"Ophelia, hush. Someone might not know you're joking. No bad publicity, remember?" I lean in and whisper into her ear. I try not to notice the pulse beating in her neck. I straighten back up. Best to put some distance between my mouth and her milky white skin before I do something foolish.
Like bite it.
That's it, I've got to lay off the liquor for the rest of the night. My inhibitions need to stay firmly in place. Before I can say—or do—anything else, I feel a firm hand on my shoulder.
"Ah, Xavier, glad you could make it. Aren't you going to introduce us to your companion?"
I don't need to turn around to know it's Coach Janssen. I stand up as straight as possible and give Ophelia a tight smile. This is it. The moment where everything either comes together or falls apart horrifically.
I turn quickly. "Yes, this is Ophelia. Ophelia, this is Coach Janssen."
Coach extends his hand. "Bjorn, please. I'm only Coach on the pitch or in the weight room. Lovely to meet you. Xavier isn't one to bring a plus one very often, so you must be quite special if he wanted to include you."
Ophelia giggles at the Dutchman, a lovely pink blush filling her cheeks. "I … I'm …" Bjorn takes in her appearance from head to toe, which makes me want to growl at him. Instead, I ball my fist and listen as my former and hopefully, future, coach says, "Quite special indeed." Finally, he turns his attention back to me. "I know I've asked you to a social event, but do you mind if we talk business for a moment? Is it alright to speak here, or would you rather do it privately?"
"Here's fine, I reckon." I glance at Ophelia, who gives a little shrug.
"Okay, Miller wants the paperwork this week. He wants to be able to announce plans for next season the day after our final game. He's having trouble getting in touch with your agent."
That makes two of us.
"I'm on it. I assure you, Coach Janssen—Bjorn—that this is my number one priority."
I see Bjorn's gaze dart to Ophelia, who's standing more still than I knew she was capable of.
"I need your word on that. No distractions, no bad press. Just i's dotted and t's crossed and everything ready to go."
Apparently, Ophelia hits her threshold for immobility as she leans forward, putting her hands on Bjorn's forearm. "I assure you, Mr. Coach. Um, Bjorn. I'm not a distraction. Not in the least. I'm part of the plan to make this all happen. That's why we got married. Now Xavier can get his citizenship and everything's all set." She leans over and says to me, "I figured he should know. I mean, he'd probably guess, since he knows you weren't a citizen, and then if suddenly you are? He needs to know how serious you are about being traded to the Buzzards. That playing for them means everything to you."
A small smile spreads across Bjorn's face. "You got married? You already took care of it?"
I nod, the tightness back in my chest. This is simply another thing to put on the already very long list of sacrifices I've made for football. I mean, it could probably fill one of Ophelia's many notebooks. Why stop now?
"I expect Tony to send me the final paperwork any time now." I pull out my phone and frown again, as my messages to my agent remain unread. "And as soon as possible, I'll file the citizenship stuff. This is a done deal. No problem. And for tonight, I'd just like to celebrate my bride and me."
