Page 11 of Hello Quarterback

I followed the instructor from the back corner of the group. My best friends, Krew and Milo, were on either side of me. Somewhere between downward dog and cobra, a memory came to mind.

I chuckled under my breath, remembering my brother Knox telling me about one of his first dates with his now wife. They hadn’t been together long when he had the idea to do goat yoga followed by dinner at a fancy farm/bed and breakfast.

The date had been going well... until a goat climbed on his back and peed all over him.

Milo, our team’s center, looked over at me from between his arms, his pale freckled face bright red. “Don’t laugh at me,” he grunted.

Krew grinned wide, his locks shifting as he turned his head to look at Milo. “Why not? You look funny as hell.”

Milo shook his head, stepping his right foot forward into warrior one. “I saw you wobbling on tree pose,” he said.

“It’s not about you,” I said, to stop their bickering. Then I whispered to them the story about goat yoga, making both of them stifle laughter.

The instructor at the front of the gym gave us a pointed look. “When your mind wanders, come back to your breath,” she said.

Not wanting to be a bad influence for the rest of the team, I focused on the flow for the rest of the class, and when we were done, the guys and I got up from our mats. I put a sweat towel around my neck and took a long drink from my Stanley—yoga was always harder than I thought it would be.

Krew chugged his water and then said, “Any plans tonight? I was thinking about catching that new movie that’s coming out.”

Milo started walking to the locker room, Krew and I on either side. Over the low hum of conversation around us, Milo said, “Mom’s making chicken and dumplings. I told her I’d be there. You know you’re both invited though.”

Krew nodded. “Yeah, I’ll come. Always up for some home cooking.”

Milo looked at me. “You in?”

I shook my head. “I’m busy tonight.”

They both stared at me, knowing I hardly had a life outside of football and my charity, especially since my family was a couple hours away. Krew finally said, “Something with the charity?”

I could feel heat blooming on my cheeks. How would I explain this?

Milo said, “If your family’s coming to town, I’m sure Mom can put a leaf in the table.”

“That’s not it,” I replied.

Now they were both really staring at me, even as we reached the locker room and went inside. Our lockers were all next to each other. I took off my shirt, tossing it in the back of the locker.

Krew hit my arm, saying, “Is there a girl?”

“There is.” I bit my bottom lip, bracing myself for their reactions. “I have a date with Mia.”

7

MIA

I askedVanover to arrange for my personal stylist to come to the office and bring me an outfit for my whatever-it-was with Ford that evening. On one hand, it was like the perfect opportunity had dropped into my lap—a date with a well-respected man who could help me gain favor with the board.

On the other hand, the less pragmatic side of me wasgiddythat Ford Madigan, the star quarterback of the entire NFL, had been flirting with me.

Deep down, I knew I was a catch. I was determined, kind, loyal, fun to be around, had an amazing job, parents I loved to pieces. Nevertheless, it was hard to ignore what the tabloids and people online said about my weight. Especially when they conflated my size with my looks. They acted like beauty and fatness were mutually exclusive. You couldn’t be beautifulandfat, at least in the court of public opinion.

Of course they were wrong. And apparently Ford Madigan agreed.

When my stylist left my office, Tallie came in, eyeing me appreciatively. “Hayden French gets business attire and Ford gets Miss America? No need to ask who you’re more excited to see.”

I tried not to blush as I batted off her comment and reached for my purse on my desk. “Hayden’s so self-absorbed. I don’t even know why he took a date with me.”

Tallie smiled slyly. “Maybe there’s a rumor going around about Griffen Industries acquiring his record label.”

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