the Giants don’t win this game, we ladies had better book a hotel for the night and let the guys hole up and tend to their wounded pride.”
“I saw you eyeing Cody Bond down on the field,” Jackie said as she poured a tall glass of fizzy pink liquid and handed it to Zoe. “Alex tells me he rode broncs. Can you even imagine?”
“This from a woman who wrestles six-hundred-pound sea lions into submission?” Chloe laughed. “I should think a wild horse would be a piece of cake.”
“Cake?” The odd idioms of American English still stumped Zoe.
“No, the cake’s on the field.” Brigitte took Zoe’s arm and led her to the window. “That’s cake.” She swept her arm toward the players.
“Brigitte’s Parisian accent makes the word cake sound downright sinful,” Chloe said with a laugh. “But I want to thank you, Zoe. Your event raised over eighty-seven thousand dollars for the Boys and Girls Club. Scotty is thrilled. That’ll buy a lot of books, food and tutors for a while to come.”
Zoe felt the heat rise into her cheeks. If they’d known how little she’d wanted to do the event, how Parker and her father had needed to talk her into it...
“Parker gets the credit for the success.”
“And from what I saw, Cody Bond gets an assist.” Jackie sipped at her drink, but her gaze was leveled at Zoe.
“More than an assist.” Zoe couldn’t help but admire how deftly Cody had ridden in the match the day before. He’d ridden her sixteen-hand thoroughbred like he’d been born to it.
“ I loved the humble way he stood with the team after the match as they accepted the winner’s trophy,” Sabrina said.
“Maybe he’s shy,” Brigitte said. “I love shy men. The thrill of luring them out of their shells.”
“He didn’t look shy yesterday. He rode like the devil,” Jackie said.
Any true athlete knew that along with preparation, there was a magic to movement, a power within a game that belonged not to the individual but to the game itself. Cody seemed to know that. Zoe liked that about him too.
“With all the guests and the press, I barely had the chance to thank him.”
“It’s your lucky night then, Zoe,” Jackie said. “We’re going out for drinks after; maybe he’ll come along.”
“In that case I am definitely coming.” Brigitte shot Zoe a teasing smile. “Just in case your hormones aren’t talking to you.” She looked down at the field. “Mine are. Most definitely. I’d be happy to thank him for you.”
Zoe felt the flush creep into her cheeks. She sipped from her glass and welcomed the tang of lemons, cranberries and vodka sliding down her throat.
“ I should’ve bought Cody for my Sabers when I had the chance,” Chloe said. “We could’ve used him in the playoffs this past week. Might’ve won. Scotty tells me he has brains to go with all that power.” She tilted her head toward the field. “Guess we’ll see today.”
“You can’t win every year,” Jackie said into the silence.
“Good thing my father’s not around to hear you say that.” Chloe laughed lightly. “He was still making trades to create a championship team on his deathbed.” She gestured to the sky. “Probably still is.”
Zoe was amazed that Chloe could talk about her father’s death with such apparent ease. Losing her mother had been devastating. Some days Zoe still saw flashes of her mother out of the corner of her eye or heard her voice. But losing her father would just level her.
Zoe batted away tears.
Sabrina reached over and slid an arm around her waist. “Hey, I know. It does get easier.” She hugged Zoe closer. “Zoe lost her mom last year,” Sabrina told the others.
Such an odd phrase for death, Zoe thought. But that’s what it was, a loss, a gaping absence that no one who hadn’t experienced the death of a loved one could ever understand. Sabrina did. After her father died, she’d spent a month with Zoe in Rome.
“God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”