Page 8 of Playing Santa

“Don’t sell yourself short. I’ve been trying hard,” I admit. “Listen, bottom line is I need help with Dasher and Ronnie and Jimmy can use some help too. It’s a win-win situation.” I hold my breath while the woman does her usual silent cogitation for a few beats.

“Okay. I’ll pitch it for you. But no guarantees. Ronnie’s got a mind of her own and has a thing about being independent.”

“Got it. A chance is all I expect.”

She laughs. “You know full well the girl was drooling over you, don’t you?”

Surprise and a shock of heat spikes my pulse rate. “I’m not sure about drooling, but I think we might have a mutual attraction.” I manage to keep my cool when I’m anything but.

“Oh, you’re a slick one. But let me warn you, Mr. Sean Patrick, my Ronnie is more than an employee to me. You better not take advantage of her. No games. I care a lot about that girl and her son.”

“That makes two of us.” I blurt the words without thinking, knowing they’re genuine, from my heart. But I also realize they sound ridiculous since we just met yesterday.

She laughs. “I know something about that kind of caring. Proceed with caution, Mister—”

“Call me Sean.”

“Sean. Or I’ll make sure there’s hell to pay. I’ll get the kind of retribution on Ronnie’s behalf that she’d never think of extracting.”

The woman’s voice has a dangerous edge and I get her meaning. Hell to pay. That means money and reputation where I come from—the NFL. I’d seen plenty of players go down that way. They didn’t lose their careers, but paying the price of love affairs gone wrong can be a steep one. I take a shuddering breath and steady myself.

I’m going for it.

* * *

After practice I pick up Dasher at the house and swing by the animal shelter. It’s almost four p.m., already getting dark and I’m hoping to catch Ronnie there with Jimmy. Garino is at the desk and Dasher announces our arrival as we walk through the glass doors with mad yelping. I’m in luck. Jimmy flies into the lobby from out back and skids to a stop on his knees grabbing dasher in his arms.

“Hey Jimmy, it’s great to see you.” I laugh. The kid is caught up with the pup licking his face. I turn to Garino.

“Did you talk to her?” I whisper. She suppresses a grin and I’m hopeful, but she doesn’t have a chance to tell me the verdict when Ronnie comes from out back, calling Jimmy’s name. I turn and she stops short. Our eyes lock.

It’s as if there’s an invisible line of electricity or magnetic field tethering us. The pull jumps my nerves.

“Hello.” Her smile doesn’t appear until she glances down at Jimmy where Dasher bathes his face in puppy saliva. With Dasher in good hands, I drop the leash and go to Ronnie who’s frozen in the doorway.

“In the neighborhood,” I say, not caring if I sound lame as my eyes feast on the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. By far. I should probably dial down the smile before I scare her away, but she widens hers so I let it take over my face, my soul.

“I hear you’re looking for help,” she says. “I’m not sure I can—”

“Don’t say no. Anything you can do—even once a week. And when I have away games.” Damn if she’s not going to crush me already.

“You sound desperate. Didn’t you have a plan before you got Dasher?” Skepticism drips. She may be gorgeous and skittish, but she’s not stupid and not above calling a fool—that’s me—on his game.

“You got me. I am desperate, but not only about needing help with Dasher.”

Her eyebrows rise on her forehead and her smile disappears. She doesn’t take a step back, thank God, but I need to tread carefully. Honesty is good, but without being scary.

“I mean, I wanted to see you and Jimmy again. I was serious about making sure he sees Dasher. It’s good for both of them.” Watching the pair scrabble around on the floor, I wave a hand and laugh. Then I go with my impulse and join them, crouching down.

“Dasher, who’s the boss?” The puppy yips when I tug her tail and she turns to me. I reward her with liberal scratching behind her ears and she wastes no time licking my face. Screwing up my mouth, I pull her in and catch up her leash.

Jimmy looks crestfallen. “Are you leaving? Can I come for a walk with you and Dasher?”

“Sure—”

“Jimmy—” His mom cuts me off and I turn back to her.

“How about if all three of us go for a walk?” I turn to Garino, thinking of her as a co-conspirator now, “What do you say Garino? It’s about time for Ronnie’s break, right?”