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“Ok.” She nods but there’s no smile in sight.
“Can I have your phone?” I ask, reaching out to her.
“Why?” Her eyebrows furrow immediately.
“I’m going to program my number in it.”
She glances down at the phone in her hand and then reluctantly gives it to me.
I program my number quickly and then hand it back to her.
“Don’t you want mine?” she asks.
“Nope,” I tell her, shaking my head. “The ball is in your court, Juliet. If you have questions about how this arrangement will work, text me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. And if you don’t reach out, then I understand.”
There’s an instant shift in Juliet’s demeanor to what I said, a softening in her eyes and a more relaxed posture as if she’s no longer on alert.
Do I want her number?
Hell yeah, I do. So I can check in every five minutes to see if she has an answer for me. I’m all too aware of how little time I have left to figure something out. But my gut tells me that I need to build trust with her, and this is my first attempt at doing that.
Not to mention, she’s agreed to come to the date in two days. If I can read this woman at all, I’d say she’s the type that sticks to her commitments.
She told me she would come to the game, and I have to believe she will.
I still do not know which direction she’s leaning and I don’t like the feeling that this proposal is a long shot.
If she doesn’t agree to this arrangement, I’ll get deported. Heading back to my family in Canada doesn’t bother me. I’ve been gone too long as it is and I missed moments I’ll never get back with my father.
I have an entire house and a whole life there. What bothers me isn’t the leaving, it’s letting down my teammates and the Hawkeyes family right before a championship. If I fail to stay in the country, I’ll have to live with the disappointment of letting them down, forever.
And I have enough regrets as is it.
“I’ll leave a ticket at will-call for you,” I tell her.
She turns back toward the car and steps up on the running boards, taking a step in her heels on the icy black plastic. I grip onto her arm the second I see her slip a little and help guide her safely into her seat.
“Thank you for saving me… twice,” she says reluctantly.
“I’ve heard that makes for great husband material,” I say, hoping not to leave on the wrong note with her.
She lets out a chuckle and covers it with her hand quickly.
I can see her tough exterior starting the crack the more I show her who I am.
If I want to win her over, I have to make her laugh and show her I’m a good guy she can trust.
I can do that.
I wait until she buckles herself in and then I close the driver's side door gently next to her.
“See you soon, Juliet,” I say to the glass window between us and then take a step back to show her I’m easing off now and giving her space.
She gives me a look that almost suggests she’s considering saying something but then puts the SUV in drive and eases onto the gas, leaving me alone in the parking lot.
This is it.
This is my last shot.
