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“Really?”
“Would it make you feel better if you had to grovel first?”
She sighed again. “Actually, it probably would. People being nice around here makes me suspicious.”
“Not a friendly reception, I take it?”
“My sisters hate my guts, and the mostly male staff all use a patronizing tone.”
“You want to know how I would handle those people?”
“How?”
“Fuck ’em. Ignore them all and do your own thing.” I tapped two fingers to my temple. “Don’t let them get in your head.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” She smiled. “Why were you carrying all those pizza boxes at eight o’clock in the morning anyway?”
“It’s a tradition. When we win a home game, everyone gets pizza for breakfast the next morning, courtesy of Three Brothers’ Pizza. The owner’s a huge fan and has been doing it for longer than I’ve been around. Whatever sucker is out on injured reserve has to go get them.”
“What if you lose?”
I frowned. “No pizza.”
Bella laughed. “Do you think we can put the pizza-delivery incident behind us and start over? Pretend this is the first time we met?”
“I thought we already did, but alright.” I extended my hand. “Christian Knox. It’s nice to meet you.”
She put her hand in mine. “Bella Keating. I’m excited to meet you, Christian. I’m a big fan.”
I raised a brow. “Think that might be pushing it, since you didn’t even know what I looked like.”
“I don’t usually tell people this, but my being unable to place a face isn’t from lack of interest. I have prosopagnosia.”
“Prosopo—what?”
“Prosopagnosia. It’s the inability to recognize people by their faces.”
“That’s an actual thing?”
She smiled. “It is. It’s a cognitive disorder often caused by a head injury, but it can be congenital, too. I fell off the monkey bars at the park when I was five, and it affected the fusiform gyrus, which is the part of the brain that controls recognition.”
“No shit?”
“Brad Pitt has it too. Though I think his is congenital.” Bella laughed. “I don’t even know why I just told you any of that. I’ve only ever told three people about my condition. I can hide it pretty well by memorizing non-facial cues about a person, such as their walk, or voice, or the way they dress. Even a necklace a person wears or their build can help me identify them better than a face.”
“You told me because you didn’t want my ego to be bruised.”
“I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t a fan. Because I am. I’ve studied your career.”
I rubbed my lip with my thumb. “You’ve studied me, huh?”
She straightened. “Sixty-seven-point-four completion rate last year. Five-thousand-two-hundred-and-seventy-four yards. Forty-four touchdowns and eight interceptions. The season before that, sixty-one-point-eight completion rate, four-thousand-six-hundred-and-eleven yards, forty touchdowns, and twelve interceptions. The year before that, sixty-four-point-two completion rate, four-thousand-nine-hundred-and-six yards, forty-three touchdowns, and twelve interceptions. You went to Notre Dame for college, where you led the Fighting Irish to two league championships. You have a twin brother—identical not fraternal—who is also a quarterback. He was on injured reserve this week, the same as you, though he’s due to come back Sunday, and you will most likely be out for another few weeks. And you have a second brother, who played for Michigan State but didn’t make it to the NFL. I believe that brother is a cop in New Jersey.”
“Who was my pee-wee team’s football coach?”
Her face fell. “I don’t know. But I’m hoping that’s not relevant to prove my point, that I know who you are as a player, even if I didn’t recognize your face.”
I shook my pointer at her. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. You can’t figure out everything through facts and figures. You’re not building algorithms anymore.”
She tilted her head. “Sounds like you’ve done your homework, too. You know what I previously did for a living…”
My phone alarm buzzed. I slipped it from my pocket and turned it off. “I gotta run. Practice starts in ten minutes. I’m not allowed on the field while I’m injured, but I can sure as hell coach the guy keeping my spot warm from the sidelines. Maybe we can talk about the all-girls’ youth team another time?”
Bella smiled. “Sure. And thank you again for being so understanding about the other day.”
I nodded and walked toward the door. “By the way, just to be clear, is it sexual harassment when two people work together and one of them asks the other out?”
“I think if it’s done in a manner so that the other party feels comfortable saying no, if they’re not interested, it wouldn’t be considered harassment.”
I let my eyes do a quick sweep over Bella as she watched. “Good to know. I hope I see you around, Bella.”
CHAPTER 3
* * *
BELLA
“Why are you sitting over here?”
The following week, I attended my first official home game as the team’s owner. Right before halftime, I’d been sitting in the owner’s box with friends when the jumbotron zoomed in on a man in the visiting team’s bleacher seats. My grandfather. I knew he had season tickets right behind the home team bench, so I went down to check on him.
