“What?” I stare at him. “Bro, are you serious?”
He nods.
“Oh shit,” Jen says. “That place would have a line out the door.”
“Chance and I would essentially be silent partners,” Anthony says. “But I'd love to collaborate on menu ideas.” He gestures toward me. “The restaurant would be yours. A showcase for your cuisine.”
My head is swimming.
Why didn’t I think of this?
Anthony continues. “It would also be a smart investment for the firm. A place to take clients. Plus, an opportunity to demonstrate that we support athletes in post-career endeavors.”
Beside me, Spence squeezes my leg again. I glance at him. He gives me a small nod. One that says everything.Do it.
I lean back in my chair. A restaurant.Myrestaurant.
“I hadn't even considered a restaurant,” I admit. Then I grin. “But it makes sense.” I look around the table, at all the faces that helped me get here. “Let's do this.”
A chorus of cheers erupt.
Spence clears his throat and we all look at him. He scratches the back of his neck, looking perplexed. “I can't believe I'm about to say this.”
We all watch him—waiting. He winces, like the words physically hurt. “You should name the restaurant Butter.”
Absolute silence follows.
Then my grin stretches so wide my face hurt.
“You’re welcome,” he grumbles.
Laughter erupts around the table. I lean over and kiss him quickly. His cheeks flush and the laughter grows.
After dinner, everyone spreads out around the condo. Wine glasses. Conversations. Babies. Laughter. The comfortable chaos of people who have become family.
I’m in the middle of spewing menu ideas at Spence when Chance’s voice breaks through the chatter in the room.
“Oh shit,” he practically shouts as he turns the volume up on the TV that’s been running in the background.
I look up. And my stomach drops.
My father. Standing behind a podium. Every muscle in my body locks. But then I hear what he’s saying.
...many of you were expecting an announcement from me declaring my intention to make a run at the White House.
The room goes dead silent.
That announcement is not coming.
My heart skips.
Furthermore, I will not be seeking re-election when my term is up next year.
Nobody moves.
My wife and I plan to retire to our second home in Hawaii. I would like to thank the American people. It has been my honor to serve you.He pauses.Thank you. I will not be taking questions.
The screen cuts away and everyone turns to look at me.
