MY HUSBAND.
Nichole’s matter-of-fact words slammed inside Chase’s head like a helmet-to-helmet hit. He waited for the ref’s whistle. The shrill sound that would disrupt the momentum and pause the moment.
Two gentlemen in coordinated business suits stepped forward, hands outstretched in greeting, smiles restrained by the boundaries of professional politeness.
Time continued to run down. No one called an audible. No one changed the play—the one that called for a pretend marriage. The moment never paused.
“Congratulations. I’m Vick Ingram.” Vick, the stockier of the duo, his midsection relaxed by more than one good meal, shook Nichole’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you and your new husband.” Vick turned to Chase. Speculation added dimension to the man’s plain brown gaze. “Offensive player of the year three seasons straight, four-time Pro Bowler and more than three hundred and fifty touchdowns. That’s quite a career.”
“The news of your sudden marriage is quite big too. I’m Glenn Hill.” The knot on Glenn’s tie was one tug away from sloppy. The unfastened top button of his dress shirt signaled his lack of effort with his attire. As if he wasn’t serious about this particular meeting.
“It’s a recent development.” Nichole’s words rushed out.
So recent, Chase hadn’t been aware marriage vows were part of the favor owed.
“We’re still adjusting to our new status,” Nichole rambled on. “There’s a lot of details to be worked out.”
So many details that they’d need a lengthy one-on-one conversation to hash through them all.
Vick’s grin appeared genuine. “Love can be a whirlwind.”
Or a complete hoax.
“But it also makes for the best headlines.” Glenn rubbed his hands together. “It’s surprising I haven’t read about the sport’s favorite playboy bachelor finally getting hitched. You’re one of the internet’s favorite topics.”
The best headlines were often the most lucrative. Chase wondered about the guy and straightened into his full height.
“Vick and Glenn are senior partners in Fund Infusion.” Nichole shifted toward Chase. “Their firm has offered to invest in the app I designed and built.”
So much hope swirled in Nichole’s hazel gaze. Too much. She trusted these two men with her dream. Why? Chase trusted these men about as much as he trusted any defensive player to tag him rather than tackle him during a game. In other words, not at all. Concern, not confidence, stiffened his shoulders.
“Aren’t you going to share the details of your wedding?” Glenn adjusted his tie as if their wedding news was more than worth his full consideration. “I’d love to know. After all, we’re friends.”
Friends. Not exactly. Chase wrapped his arm around Nichole, tucked her into his side. “We’d like to keep this affair private. As friends, I’m sure we can count on your discretion until we’ve made a public announcement.”
“Of course.” Vick’s gaze slanted sideways toward his business partner, making the assurance in his words all the more suspect.
“If you change your mind, we’re more than interested in hearing a good love story.” Glenn’s smirk was obvious despite the mustache covering his entire top lip.
“Perhaps you’d also be interested in reviewing the business plan I put together.” Nichole’s crisp professionalism was clear, but the underlying plea caught Chase off guard.
That wasn’t a challenge. That was a dropped ball on what should’ve been a touchdown scoring pass. Chase glanced at Nichole.
Chase Jacobs, you’re a cheater.
Yes, I am.
That admission had rocked Nichole’s bluster, but she’d never wavered. Never walked away.
Where was the Nichole who’d always challenged Chase’s motives and his integrity? She looked like the slightest nudge would topple her over. He secured his hold around her waist and his guard.
“Now that you’ve married Chase Jacobs, you could simply give your program away for free.” Glenn’s mustache twitched, revealing his smirk again.
Chase smoothed out his smile. The man had dismissed Nichole’s program. Dismissed Nichole. Surely Nichole noticed that slight. Surely Nichole would challenge Glenn now.
“I did not marry Chase for his money.” Although the sudden lost thread in her voice hinted at her uncertainty.
Chase searched Nichole’s face. What would motivate someone like Nichole Moore to marry someone like Chase? He blinked. Definitely not the topic for this evening. But the question stuck inside him like a clump of grass smashed into his face guard. An unavoidable nuisance and difficult to remove.
The doubt and worry lingering in Nichole’s gaze reinforced his conviction. For the first time in far too long, Chase wanted to rescue someone other than himself.
Chase took Nichole’s hand and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. Color tinged her cheeks, faint and all too charming. The longer she held Chase’s gaze, the less put out she looked. Satisfaction pulsed inside him. “Money was certainly my motivation for marrying Nichole. She’s my retirement plan.”
“Then we should discuss your wife’s program and the potential for it to be a profitable retirement plan over a fantastic meal.” Vick’s good-humored laughter rolled around them, ushering them to the dinner table.
“If I recall correctly, you were quoted comparing the Hail Mary pass to marriage.” Glenn dropped into the chair across from Chase, stirred an olive around in his glass and eyed him. “You claimed both had the same success rate—very low.”
Chase recalled that particular interview. He still believed marriage and Hail Mary passes were similar in that both failed more often than not. But his views had no impact on his fake marriage. He treated Glenn like any other dogged reporter and neither confirmed nor denied.
“You’ve never thrown a Hail Mary pass. You’ve said it isn’t part of your game plan.” Glenn combed his fingers through his mustache. “Now you have to adjust your outlandish off-field lifestyle to include a wife. How will that work?”
No adjustments required. Fake was fake. And his fake marriage dissolved at the end of the evening. There’d be no glass slipper, no hint that a fantasy would turn into real life. Marriage appealed to him as much as a borrowed helmet. Neither were a good fit. Both disrupted his focus and detracted him from success on the football field.
Still, Chase was adjusting remarkably well to his sudden, albeit temporary, role as husband. Every word Glenn spoke honed Chase’s protective edge. He scooted his chair closer to Nichole and rested his arm on the back of Nichole’s. “As with any new team you learn as you go.”
And he was quickly learning how much he liked being close to Nichole.
“Let’s order!” Vick handed out the menus. He lacked the yellow flag to signal an offside penalty but maintained the professional poise of a seasoned ref. “What appetizers would everyone enjoy?”
Glenn folded his hands together on top of his closed menu and studied Nichole. “Ms. Moore, or rather Mrs. Jacobs, about that business plan?”
“Nichole is fine.” Nichole lowered her menu and reached into her bulky tote bag on the floor, pulling out a binder. “I understand an app is not a business. However, the plan includes market analysis, financial projections and a full marketing strategy.”
“Nichole has created something of value, or we wouldn’t be here.” Chase intercepted the binder before it reached either Vick or Glen. “I’d like to know what value your firm brings to it and to her vision.”
“Fund Infusion has offered to fully fund the last round of my program revisions.” Nichole’s hand landed on Chase’s arm. A warning infused her words, tempering her tone.
“Is that all?” Chase countered. He could fund that much, although she hadn’t asked him.
Vick spoke up. “We believe we will have a strong and fair offer for your consideration, if Nichole presents us with the information we require.”
“What more would you like to know?” Nichole tugged the binder from Chase’s grip and passed it across the table.
That eagerness was back in her tone. Where was the skeptic who’d always intrigued him? Nichole used to question everything. She’d even made Chase list ten facts to prove the homecoming dance was worth her time. He’d failed to convince her. She’d claimed numbers six through ten had been feelings, not facts. She had always insisted he was illogical because he’d relied on his emotions and gut instinct. Be rational, Chase. You can’t know you’ll like skydiving simply because it looks fun on TV.
Well, he did like skydiving. And he distrusted Glenn from only one unfastened button and the kink in his own gut. She’d called him in to stand beside her and he’d do his part. “Call me old-fashioned, gentlemen, but I never do a deal with anyone until I know what those folks are about.”
Menus studied and orders placed: three surf and turfs and one petit filet, Chase eyed Glenn and then Vick.
“I prefer my steaks rare and my drinks cold.” Glenn smoothed his hand over his tie, loosening the knot even more, as if talking about himself was his favorite pastime. “As for the business, it’s simple. I started Fund Infusion to prove to my father I was better than him.”
“And did you?” Chase asked.
“Within the first year.” Glenn sipped his drink as if he’d given himself a private toast. “Now my legacy is ensured.”
Chase added cutthroat to his description of the man. Nichole would claim that wasn’t a strong enough reason not to let the guy invest in her business. Maybe it wasn’t, but it still didn’t speak well of the man across from him.
“I intend for In a Pinch to be my legacy. I’ve devised a go-to market strategy in Section Four.” Nichole tipped her chin toward the binder, pointing excitedly. “I’ve collected over two thousand test users and identified their preferences and needs. The local vendor list is expanding daily. I’ve also pinpointed competitors and highlighted their weaknesses. I have an aggressive growth plan that includes launching in several key metro areas prior to going nationwide.”
Nichole’s strategy impressed Chase the same way he appreciated a good play call by the opposing team. Good or not, Nichole just revealed too much of her game. Coaches called plays from behind laminated paper to avoid giving their opponents an advantage.
Chase grabbed her hand, drawing her attention and pausing her presentation. Advantage: Chase. “I’d like to know what their next steps are before you give them your full proposal.”
Glenn placed his palm on the binder. “The first thing we’ll do is review your wife’s business plan and determine if it’s even viable.”
“Of course, it’s viable.” Nichole had written it. Irritation snapped inside Chase, tweaking his frown into a scowl. “You don’t think you’re the only ones interested in my wife’s app, do you?”
Nichole cleared her throat.
“They should know they’re only the first to the table. Not the first to show interest.” Chase squeezed Nichole’s hand. “If you have a go-to-market strategy in place for my wife’s program, then we have something to discuss.”
Their food arrived, forcing another pause in the conversation.
Vick fumbled with his lobster cracker. Glenn dipped a piece of mangled lobster into the small dish of melted butter and dripped onto Nichole’s binder. The disregard grated on Chase. He wanted that binder. Wanted these two vetted. Even more, he wanted the evening with them concluded.
“Let’s talk about next steps.” Vick sounded as if he were placating. “Once we review the material, we’ll meet with our investors to discuss our offer and contract terms.”
Chase’s first step was easy. He leaned across the table, picked up the binder and set it out of Glenn’s grasp. His next step: he’d find someone to research Fund Infusion and determine if they were a legitimate company or not.
“This is great.” Nichole’s optimism seemed infectious. Chase wished he could get on board. “You’re serious about making an offer for In A Pinch and launching it nationwide. I’m satisfied.”
Vick lifted his glass, but his smile never quite reached his gaze. “To a successful partnership.”
“I left nothing behind.” Glenn rubbed his stomach, his voice mellowed, his eyelids halfway closed. “Now that the business is out of the way, you can tell us how you two met.”
Clearly Glenn’s full stomach hadn’t dulled his quest for a possible lucrative news story.
“We’ve known each other for quite a while,” Nichole said softly. Her head dipped and she took a quick gulp of her wine.
“Since high school.” Chase wrapped her hand in his. He held on to her, his easygoing tone and his lie. “She sat behind me and copied off my biology quizzes freshman year.”
Nichole’s nervous laughter registered with him as she tapped her shoulder into Chase. The same way she’d used to bump him during their tutoring sessions to get him to concentrate on his schoolwork, rather than memorizing offensive plays.
They both knew the real story. Chase had sat behind Nichole and attempted to copy off her biology exams freshman year. One day she’d confronted him outside the locker room on his way to practice. You can’t want to be a cheater. No one wants to be a cheater. If it hadn’t been her tests, he’d have copied off someone else in their biology class. Good luck passing biology by using anyone else’s work. Frustrated and desperate, Chase had issued a challenge: You have a better idea? With hands on her hips, she’d stared him down. Yes.
Nichole had never faltered. Certainty and confidence sang in her voice and her unwavering gaze. I’ll be your tutor. No one needs to know.
That had sealed their relationship. First, she’d been his tutor. Then his friend and confidante. But never more. He’d never considered more until he sat beside her, pretending to be her husband.
“My wife and I met in grade school.” Vick touched his wedding ring, sounding wistful. “There’s something about first loves you can’t ignore. I’m going on thirty-four years with my true love.”
“I’m currently between wives.” Glenn stared into his empty glass.
“Glenn might be taking a hiatus on love, but we can toast.” Vick lifted his glass over the center of the table. “To first loves and your new journey together.”
Nichole and Chase’s journey had nothing to do with love: true love or first love. And everything to do with favors owed to an old friend. The evening had even been enjoyable. Ironic, since he’d spent the entire night sitting in a chair, not seeking the next adrenaline rush. Chase tapped his glass against Vick’s. “To love.”
Nichole gripped her wineglass, offered a whisper-soft clink against the others with no more force than an air kiss. Her smile wobbled. “To...”
Her sentence died.
Instead, she shoved her chair away from the table. “If you’ll excuse me.”
She rose and spun around in one swift movement. Too swift. Her momentum carried her right into the waiter. The one holding a very full pitcher of ice water.
Chase reached out. The collision unfolded like a slow-motion instant replay. Fortunately, most of the ice water sloshed onto the floor. Nichole stumbled backward into Chase’s arms. Into his lap. Finally, the evening felt completely right.
Chase curved his arms tighter around Nichole’s waist and followed his gut. Lowering his head, he caught her next startled gasp with his lips. Then he kissed her until his own gasp claimed him.
Across the table, Vick’s laughter spilled through his words. “I think we’ll take the check and skip dessert.”