Page 91 of The Americana Playbook

I hang up, fuming silently for no reason since I’m alone in our apartment. I have no reason to keep my thoughts to myself, but I do anyway. And why? Because I feelbadsaying this kind of stuff about Coach out loud.

Fuck him, I say to myself.Fuck him for never once caring about anything in my life other than football.

“And fuck me too,” I add, this time out loud.

My phone rings from where I’ve tossed it, and this time, I do take the time to actually look at who’s calling before I answer.

“Hey.” I clear my throat. “I was just talking—uh, thinking—about you.”

“I hope you’re talking and thinking good things about me,” Parker says smoothly.

“I’m always thinking good things about you these days,” I tell her.

“Hm,” Parker begins. “Be careful, Fitzy. I wouldn’t want you to fall in love with me.”

The bourbon in my bloodstream has me tempted to ask Parker if that would really be so bad. But I don’t. “Life is boring without you here. And no Secret Service outside. The doorman asked if we broke up.”

Parker laughs. “Well, that would be bad news. I’m calling with good news actually.”

I can scan the rug for the piece. “Great. Because I actually have bad news to share.”

“You first.”

“No. Good first, always.”

Parker hums. “Well,first, Fourth of July weekend in Vegas works. We’ll go to DC for the engagement party, stay the night, go to Texas for a fundraiser for my dad, and then fly back to Boston. We can leave for Vegas that night.”

“Sounds like a logistical nightmare,” I tell her, even though I’d fly to the moon and detour around Saturn to marry Parker. “I told Josh. He’s really upset.”

“Upset?” Parker gasps. “Over our wedding?”

“Upset that we’reeloping.The bigger guys are always the most sentimental.” I laugh. “He’ll come around.”

“I guess I’ll have to let you handle that. But I have something else. I kind of need you to fly out tomorrow and stay the night.”

I fist pump. If I were wearing socks, I’d be sliding across the floor like Tom Cruise in hisRisky Businessera.

“Dad has a fundraiser tomorrow in Palm Beach. Mom wants the whole family there,” Parker explains. “Next morning, you and I will go up to Jacksonville and visit another school. Ridiculous, right? Imagine you have time to rub elbows with billionaires over cocktails but don’t manage to find time to listen to teachers and students about what they need to learn better.” She sighs. “I’m sorry to ask last minute. They sprang this on me. But the coverage from last time was so positive they want to roll with it.”

“Do I have to wear a suit both days?”

“No. Just for the dinner tomorrow. The navy one with a white button-down. Pack the light blue tie. We’ll keep the school visit casual. Jeans and maybe that checkered button-down you have hanging in your closet. White sneakers. Fitz?” Parker asks when I grow quiet for a moment. “Are you there?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m here. I was just swooning.”

Parker giggles. “Swooning?”

I sigh happily. “You’re killing me with this wife behavior. Telling me where to be and what to wear? That’s dirty talk for a traditional guy like me.”

God, I miss her laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.” Parker pauses for a beat before she drops her voice and huskily whispers, “Wear the dress socks with the Rebels emblem on them.”

I let out an overenthusiastic groan. “I didn’t anticipate phone sex when I answered before, but?—”

“By the way.” Parker interrupts me. “Your mom RSVP’d to the engagement party.”

The next groan I let out is less enthusiastic. “Bringing up my mom right now is a good way to kill the mood. And I know she did. I already booked her tickets and hotel.”

---