Page 38 of Hello Quarterback

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FORD

The next morningwhen I checked my phone, I saw a text message from Mia. It was a logo with the word RISE.

Mia: For my charity.

I grinned at the graphic. It was like her—bold, bright, impactful.

Ford: I love it.

Mia: Thanks for the extra push.

Ford: Any time.

I clicked my phone off and left my room, going out to the kitchen for breakfast. My chef was already working on it and said, “Just a few minutes, Ford.”

“Thanks,” I replied, heading to the coffeemaker and grabbing a cup. I always allowed myself one in the morning. Something about the smell of freshly brewed coffee was irreplaceable. I think because it reminded me of quiet mornings on the farm,slowly waking up to hear my parents talking softly over a cup of coffee.

As I sat at the table drinking coffee by myself, I looked at my phone, realizing I wanted to text her more.

Continuing the conversation would be purely indulgent for me. So I set my phone aside and tried—failed—to get her out of my mind.

Over the next week, I felt a sense of restlessness like never before. I was doing everything required of me, going to work, training, going to (and winning) my out-of-town game, but it still felt like something was missing.

I didn’t want to admit to myself that it was Mia. Mia was missing.

Although I couldn’t deny it when Tallie messaged me and relief immediately washed over me.

Tallie: Mia had a lunch fall through today. It would be a great chance for you to bring lunch into the office and talk her up. Are you free?

I had to make myself wait thirty seconds before texting her back and saying I was. Wouldn’t want it getting back to Mia how desperate I was to see her.

Tallie: Great. I'm going to need you to pick something up, and you're going to accidentally go to the wrong floor. You'll go to floor thirty-five instead of thirty-six and walk until you find the glass office in the corner. That's where Thomas works. Talk with his secretary, see if there's anyone else there you can chat with. They might ask you to sign autographs. If they do—sign them. Be your likable self and slip in positive comments about Mia. Think you can handle that?

Ford: Easily.

Instead of going to a restaurant, I had my chef prepare something so that I could bring a home-cooked meal to Mia. I was sure she dined out all the time with her work schedule, and if she was anything like me, I missed eating at home when I'd been out for a while.

I shouldn't have been as nervous as I was getting dressed and ready to go to meet her in her office. I shouldn't have been nervous as I went to the florist and picked up a bouquet of sunflowers and lavender.

But I was. Even as I got into the elevator and pressed the button for the thirty-fifth floor.

As soon as the elevator doors opened though, I knew my play. I knew my purpose, and I was willing to fulfill the role. Especially after she had done so well for me at the Ford's Friends gala.

The thirty-fifth floor in the Griffin Industries tower looked similar to the thirty-sixth floor. But instead of being taken up by Mia’s office and a conference room, there was a lot more going on here.

A receptionist sat in front of a desk right where the elevators opened. As soon as she saw me, she said, “May I help you?”

“I’m bringing a friend lunch,” I said like Tallie instructed. “Thomas Weatherford.”

“Need me to show you where to go?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I've got it.”

I started walking back in the similar direction as Mia’s office, like Tallie had told me to, and I realized that this floor had way more people on it. There were offices along the walls, and even a bank of people working at half cubicles.

At first, no one noticed me, but then the murmurs started.

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