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Yannick looked over at her. “Quitting already?”
“Bench me, Coach.”
He laughed. “My guess is that you’ll have a good time.”
“Wanna lay some bets?”
“I’m in,” said Zach.
“Me too,” said Milos.
“I hate you all,” said Iris, and they laughed.
Hud returned before the first course and took a seat next to the blonde at the table. Laughed with her the entire meal. Bid on a piece of art that he didn’t get. Ate two bites of his dessert, a delicious cheesecake with raspberry. Iris cleaned her plate.
Finally, the orchestra came back. She turned to Yannick. “Can we please leave?”
He checked his watch. “Limo isn’t due back for an hour.”
“I’m grabbing an Uber.” She got up.
“I’ll go with you,” Zach said.
“I don’t need you to babysit me.” But she wobbled as she got up, and he caught her elbow. She grabbed his arm, steadied herself.
“Clearly not.” He picked up her coat. “Don’t forget this.” But he carried it for her as they moved away from the tables.
Last she saw of Hudson, he was posing with the blonde as another man took their beautiful picture.
* * *
And just like that,she was gone.
“Thanks, Hudson, for everything. This has been really fun.” The words came from Brette Remington, the reporter who had followed him—okay, not followed, since she’d been invited—to the charity event. In Germany. So it sort of felt like following. And of course she’d ended up at his table, right next to him, and what was he going to do? Be a jerk?
Besides, he’d been not-on-purpose but maybe-just-a-little dodging her since that day at the practice stadium in Vienna, not really interested in pouring out his life to her.
Then he’d found out that she knew his brother, Harry, and apparently that’s how she’d gotten the gig in the first place. Harry had dropped the tidbit of news to her husband, Ty Remington, that his brother played for the ELF. With the ELF and NFL game coming up in Lauchtenland, and her being a freelance journalist, she’d pitched a story to theRed Zonemagazine.
“Besides, we’re headed to Zermatt ski resort in Switzerland for some fresh powder,” Ty had said when they’d arrived to the field today to take more pictures. “We’re meeting my buddy Gage and his wife there.” So, okay, Hud posed for a few shots, then agreed to an interview tonight.
He’d had to step outside with Brette to get some quiet, but she wasn’t a brutal interviewer. Mostly questions about life in the ELF.
“Why don’t they have more Americans?”
“They’re only allowed three A-team foreigners. We have a couple Brits, but they’re B-teamers.”
“And you’re considered A-Team, even though you never played in the NFL?”
Ouch, but he’d smiled and reminded her he’d been a contender in the draft back in the day.
“But the TBI set you back.”
He allowed it. “Just a year. Then I was itching to play and went to arena ball for two years before the Vienna Vikings reached out.”
“And you like playing in the ELF?”
“It’s a growing sport here. It’s not soccer—or European football—by any means, but we have a tidy group of fans, and our games are gaining traction. This year the Barcelona Dragons played to a stadium of twelve thousand. And our stadium holds seventeen thousand. We’re not at capacity yet, but we will be once we win the championship again.”
