Page 66 of The Catch

In the quiet of the space, the ceiling lights glint on the black mirror of the phone lenses, and the symbol at the back stares right back at me. Saint is busy, and I shouldn't text him again and get in the way of his concentration. He needs to win, so he can stay in the city. But we were already messaging and having mindless fun. I asked him a daring question I hope he doesn't read too much into. I might have a reply from him that might give me clues of his interpretation.

All I want to do is tell him about the call. Hear what he has to say. See his encouraging smile.

When I finally break and get on my phone again, I see Saint responded within one minute of my last.

Saint: You'll know because I will tap my chest twice, three times in a row, with my right hand. Tap tap. Tap tap. Tap tap. Like a heartbeat.

A few minutes later, he sent another. Then another.

Saint: everything okay? Did I lose you

Saint: text me later if you like. Or whenever. If you send me a few encouraging words during the game, they'll make me smile after, no matter what happens. I may not always be able to get to my phone when I'm away, but I like getting a notification with your name on it. I will always get to them as soon as I can.

Ames: Thanks for that. I actually needed it. Something big happened and I wanted to tell you.

Dots appear on the screen right away. Like he'd kept an eye on his phone.

Saint: I'm always happy to hear what you have to say. What happened?

Ames: Mark called. He wants me to record a pilot for a cooking show

Typing it sows anxiety seeds in my diaphragm, and roots sprout as I wait for Saint's response. This show could solve my business problems in a way I can't yet comprehend. It's the kind of thing I can't dare to dream about, until every step has taken place, all paperwork is signed, and I'm in front of the cameras again.

Is it a good idea, or am I being terribly foolish? I don't know, and it's too soon to predict.

Saint: What?! That's incredible! Of course they would see you and want to give you your own show. You were amazing. You'd be great on TV

Ames: So you think I should do it?

Saint: Please tell me you'll do it. We'll figure it out. We'll celebrate both our wins tomorrow night.

For the next thirty hours, I focus on preparing the watch party, having fun, and managing my nerves. I get Evie to take up as a temporary agent for me, and we make a toast to celebrate the opportunity and the incredible game the guys are playing. If I get a few extra drinks while entertaining my friends, I tell myself it's not a big deal. It's preparation for my celebration with Saint.

Chapter 23

Saint

I have almost thirty texts from Ames by the time I check my phone after winning the game. The celebration is still going on strong in the locker room, but I take my time re-reading my favorite ones.

At my cubbie, I sit down and smile.

Ames: the TV zoomed in on you dancing to that touchdown. You're such a great showman

Ames: are you okay? Damn tackles.

Ames: am I jinxing it if I say I think you guys are soooo going to win this game?

Ames: I've had a couple of drinks, which is only partly why I feel bold enough to tell you that play was HOT

Ames: anotherdrink, and now I can't find a way to delete that text. Oh well, you did look HOT

Ames: you know what they say about peiple who dance well right? Hahaaha I bet you do

Ames: I can't wait for you to come home. Ill wait for you. You said we'd celebrte

Ames: Ignote the typso. CONGRATUELATIONS ON THE WIN AAAH YOU'RE AMAZNG

Ames: the way theyre replayijng your touchsdowns on TV they wuld have to be FOOLS to let you go. Evie agrees with meeee