Page 58 of The Do-Over Girl

“It’s my brand,” I say. “They call me Successful Career Girl Barbie in the faculty room.”

He laughs. And then he strips while I watch, right down to the skin, walking past me into the adjoining bathroom. “I’ll be quick in the shower—that is, unless you want to join me?”

I gulp down the words that scream from my depths, those lady parts shrieking loudly at me to run, don’t walk, and instead, I shake my head, keeping my mouth and thighs clamped shut.

* * *

When we arriveat the pizza place, we find Nikki and Archie sitting in the corner booth in the front window, and they wave at us. When we walk inside, I’m surprised at the immediate universal greetings of everyone in the place. They welcome Nash like he’s everyone’s long-lost son, brother, father, uncle. He greets them back, waving and addressing the staff and some patrons by their first names. The chef, who also looks like the owner, comes from the back room to greet him with a hug. Nash tolerates it and introduces me as the powerhouse behind the Save APA Campaign.

“No need to tell me that. I’ve seen pictures on social media and in the paper.” He fawns over me, and I can’t be embarrassed because he’s so genuine.

“You’re so kind, Luigi, but you know it’s a group effort, right?” I wave to the corner booth where Nikki and Archie wait.

As we finally take our seats in the booth, I give Nash a sideways glance and whisper, “What was that all about?”

He throws me a mock-innocent look. I nudge him with my elbow as Nikki grumbles about the show of support being lopsided. He grins and whispers in my ear, filling me with the sensation that we’re an exclusive club of two, the intimate connection rising to life in me like a bolt of lightning as I shiver. “Where do you think I’ve been having dinner when I’ve been late coming home?”

Coming home. The words rejuvenate my shiver, and I’m so lost in his intimacy that I squirm in my seat without realizing it. He puts a firm hand on my thigh, holding me still, while his eyes spear me with a laser of blatant lust.

Archie clears his throat. “This is a business meeting, right? Because I told my wife this was a business dinner, so she took the kids to the movies.” He looks between me and Nash. “We’re going to talk shop, right?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Nikki says. “Of course, this is a business dinner. Do you think I would have dinner with you all for fun?”

I roll my eyes. “We love you, too, Nikki, even if you are my boss.” She gives me a wide-eyed look, and I want to bite my tongue at the loving my boss reference because, well, Brad. But then I smile because I’d forgotten all about Brad, and that’s a good thing—a fantastic thing.

“Seriously,” she says, “We need to get ahead of the next Board of Trustees meeting and make sure we have a killer presentation that does justice to the progress we’ve made. In fact, the admin we hired says we’re having trouble staying ahead of our progress. We’ve had to make some upgrades in a couple of our social network platforms and hire another clerk in the accounting department.”

I smile. “That’s fantastic—I think. I know you want to keep expenses low.”

She waves a hand. “Extra expenses are more than covered by the pledges—as long as everything comes in as expected. The one thing we can’t afford is any glitches. Let’s start by talking about the NHL Classic APA Benefit game—that’s what they’re calling it for the TV special.” She beams at Nash.

“Don’t look at me,” Nash says. “Kali set up the deal with the NHL Network. I’m just the pretty face for the camera.”

“The pretty face with killer credentials and a killer team,” I say.

“Well, isn’t this nice,” Nikki says sarcastically. “A mutual admiration club.”

Archie laughs. “We’re on a team, Nikki. We’re all supposed to admire each other.”

“Let’s get to brass tacks,” Nikki says. “What do we have going on for the first game on Tuesday? Give me the rundown.”

I take the lead. “We have a TV crew from the New England Magazine show to do pre and post-game interviews with Nash, and they’ll show some highlights from the game. Depending on how we do, they may want to interview a player—namely, Dylan Zappola.”

“The game is sold out, standing room only,” Archie says. “You were right about increasing ticket prices, except for students.” He nods at me.

“Great. Then we’re in great shape,” Nikki says, picking up her menu. “Business meeting over. I’m starved.”

“You didn’t ask me how the team is doing,” Nash says, his voice an extreme example of casual, as he picks up his menu.

“We’re not taking you for granted,” Archie says, grinning and mock patting Nash’s hand before Nash rips it away. “We know how the team is doing—at least, I do—and I’ve bragged about it to anyone who will listen.”

“Considering how big your mouth is,” Nash says, “I guess everyone from Portland to Augusta knows the score. Good job, Arch. You should go out for the cheerleading—”

Archie laughs, flipping a finger at him.

“Why do I feel like I’ve been here before and heard this banter?” I ask Nikki.

She rolls her eyes. “Deep down, some guys never grow up—and it shows when they get together.” She pointedly arches her brow in Nash and Archie’s direction.