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The third member of the party was my ex-husband.
Seventy
TED SKYLER SPOTTED MEat almost the same moment as I spotted him and led his party directly to our table. Happily, from the look on his face.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Ted said.
“Fancyis one word beginning withfI can think of. But not the one I would have chosen.”
“You know the commissioner,” he said. “Have you met A.J.?”
“At the reception.”
We all looked as if we wanted to be somewhere else, with the exception of Clay Rosen, who suddenly looked as if he were at his own birthday party. He’d stood up as soon as they got to the table and shaken their hands. I’d stayed seated, wishing a trapdoor would open up underneath me.
“You and Clay know each other?” I said to Ted.
“We Zoomed after you cut me,” Ted Skyler said. “He said the Chargers might be looking for another quarterback before the season is over.”
Clay grinned at me. “Did I forget to mention that?”
“Are youstilljob-hunting?” I said to Ted. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Not anymore.”
A. J. Frost slapped Ted on the back and said, “The Patriots just signed the big guy, as a matter of fact. And are damn happy to have him.”
“Mr. Frost is flying me back to Boston in his plane tonight,” Ted said. “I get my physical tomorrow and plan to be at practice on Wednesday.”
“Ted never should have been out of work in the first place,” Commissioner Joel Abrams said.
Ted smiled at me.
“Is Boston far enough away to suit you?”
“Only until the commissioner puts a franchise on the moon.”
The maître d’ came over and told them their table was ready. But before Joel Abrams left, he said to me, “It’s still not too late for you to change your mind.”
“Funny. A.J. told me the same thing at the reception.”
“We’re just both looking out for the shield,” A. J. Frost said solemnly.
It was what they called the NFL logo, without any sense of irony. The shield. Like it was the family coat of arms. Or something that gave them all superpowers.
“This whole thing has become too much of a circus,” Frost said. “Now we’ve got Oprah up in our business. How does that help anybody?”
Clay Rosen, smiling, said, “I mean, good Lord, man, imagine what she did to the fourth-quarter ratings forMonday Night Football!”
“Let’s go sit down,” Ted Skyler said to Abrams and Frost. “We’ve got a lot to talk about before I head for the airport.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like your big week, of course,” Ted said.
He turned and started to follow the commissioner and A. J. Frost to their table. I stood and put a hand on his arm to stop him. He looked down at it and said, “You’re not going to slug me, too, are you?”
“Of course not. I just want to give you a hug and wish you luck with the Patriots. I really don’t hate you, you know.”
