Page 62 of Hello Quarterback

Especially since Ford had begun texting me every night before bed. Telling me about his day. Asking about mine. It was quickly becoming a favorite part of my day, something I looked forward to.

He also came by the office a couple times to sign more autographs, bring me lunch, and hand-deliver flowers that instantly brightened my office and made me smile every time I saw them.

Something about the trip to California had changed things for us. He wasn’t just my fake boyfriend with benefits—he was becoming a friend. Someone who understood me on a deep level like I never expected.

So when the weekend came for me to go visit Ford's family home, I was getting really excited to just be with him. I was pacing my living room, wishing ten a.m. wasn’t thirty minutes away, when the bell announced someone coming up my elevator. My eyebrows drew together. Very few people had access to my apartment, and the cleaners weren’t supposed to come until later in the day. Had Ford arrived early?

I walked toward the door just in time to see the elevator open and my parents come inside.

“Oh shit,” I muttered.

“Language,” my mom said, coming in and giving me a hug.

“I’m sorry, I forgot you were coming over today. I’m actually... getting ready to leave town.” I gave my dad a hug, and when we pulled apart, he looked disappointed, which nearly gutted me. “Business trip?”

I shook my head. “I’m um... visiting a friend’s hometown.”

Mom gave a steely smile. “A friend’s? Or Ford Madigan’s?”

All of a sudden, I felt like I was fifteen years old again, with my parents asking me who I was texting and confessing it was a boy.

“Yes, it’s Ford.”

Dad said, “Do you think you could score us some tickets?”

“Dad, I couldbuyyou tickets,” I said. “You could come to my suite any time.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but they wouldn’t be coming from the star quarterback.”

I laughed. “Gosh, I love you guys... He’s not supposed to be here for another fifteen minutes or so. Why don’t I make us some coffee?” I led them toward my kitchen, and they settled in on the chairs facing the island.

I went to my coffee pot, adding the filter and then my favorite grounds imported from Costa Rica. The aroma was already making my mouth water, and it wasn’t even brewing yet.

“So, what plans do you have for the weekend with Ford?” Mom asked.

My cheeks warmed slightly as I kept my back to her, adding water to the pot. “I’m not sure. He wants to show me his family’s ranch. He says it’s beautiful there.”

I reached up into my cabinets, pulling out three mugs.

Dad said, “Mom and I drove through Cottonwood Falls once on our way to the Grand Canyon. It’s been ten years now, but I remember they had this fantastic diner. What was it, Joanne? Windy’s Diner?”

“No...” She paused for a minute. “Oh, Woody’s! And there was this fabulous waitress, Agatha. Remember? She was so sweet with us, telling us all about the town and where we should go.”

My jaw dropped. Was it the same Agatha I had met at the gala? Aggie could be short for Agatha. “What did she look like?” I asked them.

Mom said, “Kind of frizzy brown hair, curvy, brown eyes.”

“I think I met her at a gala with Ford’s dad,” I said. “What a small world.”

She smiled. “If you see her again, tell her she has a couple fans here in Dallas.”

“I will,” I replied over the gurgling of the coffee pot.

When the liquid filled the pot, I poured it into each of our cups and went to the fridge designed to blend into the kitchen cabinets. There wasn’t much inside, but I always had fresh cream for coffee. After getting the container, I grabbed sugar from the cabinet and set it out for all of us. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered being sixteen and wondering why my parents insisted on drinking the stuff.

Mom fixed her coffee while Dad took a sip of it black. “So good,” he said.

I nodded, taking a sip of my own black coffee. I totally understood now.

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