Phoebe didn't arrive at the victory party until nine o'clock. Her ordeal, combined with the lengthy press conference, had exhausted her. When she'd finally gotten home, Molly had clucked over her like a mother hen and insisted that she lie down. She'd been so exhausted that she'd immediately fallen asleep.
Several hours later, when she awakened, she was refreshed and eager to see Dan. She'd showered and chatted with Molly as she'd dressed. Her sister had been shaken by the events of the afternoon, but recovered her spirits when Phoebe suggested a last-minute slumber party. Peg consented to chaperone, and by the time Phoebe left, the girls were arriving.
The restaurant Ron had rented for the night had a cozy, rustic interior, complete with brick floor and copper pots hanging from open beams. As she entered, her hair was still a bit damp from her shower and it curled around her head. The temperature had been steadily dropping all evening, and she was wearing a loosely fitting fuchsia sweater over a matching skirt in soft, flowing wool. With the exception of a center slit that climbed to a point just above her knees, it was conservative attire, but it felt right with her curly hair and silver doorknocker earrings.
She had just checked her coat when she heard a group entering the restaurant behind her. She turned to see Dan walking in, along with Jim, Darnell, Webster, and Bobby Tom. Everything inside her grew soft and warm at the sight of him.
"I thought I'd be the last one here." Her voice sounded breathless.
His expression was so tender she could feel her chest swell. "We had a hard time getting away."
They stood in the middle of the entry way gazing at each other as the men began to move away to find their wives and girlfriends.
Bobby Tom coughed. "The two of you should probably breathe or something so nobody hangs a coat on you."
Dan didn't take his eyes from Phoebe. "Don't you have a playbook to study, Denton?"
"Yessir, Coach." Chuckling, he left them alone.
Phoebe could have looked at him forever, but they had duties to perform. Dan took her arm and began to lead her into the room. "Half an hour. And then you're all mine."
Ron met them just inside the door. To Phoebe's surprise,
Sharon Anderson was at his side, and she greeted them both with a warm smile.
Dan didn't even attempt to hide his pleasure at seeing Sharon, and he immediately drew her into his arms for a bear hug. "Hi, sweetheart. How's Ron treating you? Has he proposed yet?"
Phoebe tried to work up a little jealousy, but his affection for Sharon was so open and honest she couldn't manage it. She realized he treated Sharon exactly as he treated Molly and wondered how on earth he could ever have imagined that they would have been happy together as a married couple. Dan was one of the most intelligent men she had ever met, but he was definitely stupid about some things.
She took pity on Sharon, whose flush had spread out from the roots of her red hair to encompass every one of her freckles. "Don't let him tease you, Sharon. His idea of good manners is to mortify only those people he likes."
"I wasn't mortifying her," Dan protested. "This is my first serious attempt at matchmaking, and I want to know how it's working out."
"None of your business," Ron said mildly. "Now why don't you tend to your own love life and get Phoebe a drink?" He and Sharon smiled shyly at each other and moved away.
Phoebe giggled as Dan grabbed a beer for himself and a glass of wine for her from a passing waiter, but her smile faded as she saw that his knuckles were scraped and badly bruised. "What did you do to your hand?"
"I, uh-" He took a sip of beer. "I sure am glad Ron managed to keep the location of this party a secret from the press."
"Dan? What happened to your hand?"
He hesitated, and for a moment she thought he wasn't going to answer, but then he brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. "I went to see Reed. The two of us needed to come to an understanding about what he did to you."
Her eyes flew over him, but other than his hands, he didn't seem to be hurt. "What did you do?"
"Let's just say I practiced a little frontier justice. He won't bother you again, sweetheart."
Phoebe wanted to question him, but at the same time, the shuttered expression on his face told her she wouldn't get far. She decided she wasn't all that anxious to hear the details anyway.
Darnell approached and introduced his new fiancée. Phoebe liked Charmaine Dodd on sight, and she congratulated them. Other players approached with their wives, and she and Dan were separated. She moved from one group to another, greeting everyone and occasionally catching sight of Dan as he did the same.
She was chatting with Bobby Tom and the pair of shapely redheads draped over his arms when she heard someone yell.
"Quiet, people! Quiet!"
Everyone in the crowd was startled to realize that commanding voice was coming from Ron, and they all fell silent. He was standing at one end of the room holding a telephone, his hand cupped over the mouthpiece.
"Phoebe!" He thrust the receiver forward. "Phoebe, it's for you!"
She regarded him quizzically.
"It's the president!" He spoke the words in a stage whisper that could have been heard in the parking lot.
She had just spoken with the NFL president a few hours earlier, and she didn't understand why Ron was so agitated. "I thought we had everything settled."
"The President! Of the United States! He's calling to congratulate you."
She gulped. Her hand fluttered to the neck of her sweater. The players laughed and then fell silent as she walked up to take the phone.
A woman's voice said, "Miss Somerville, I have the president on the line."
Just then someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to see Dan standing next to her, a grin the size of a football field spreading all over his face. "Now, Phoebe."
She regarded him blankly. "What?"
"Now."
His meaning slowly penetrated her brain, and she stared at him in disbelief. He meant now! She pressed her hand over the mouth of the receiver. "Dan, it's the President! I can't-"
He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression unbearably smug. She realized that he had been waiting for a moment just like this. That rat! He had set her up, and now he was going to spend the rest of their lives teasing her unmercifully about not having the guts to take his dare. That cocky, infuriating jock! Somebody definitely had to take him down a peg or two.
The President's voice boomed over the wire. "Congratulations, Miss Somerville. It was an amazing game."
"Excuse me, sir." She gulped. "I have Miss Somerville right here." She shoved the phone at an astonished Sharon Anderson.
Dan gave a hoot of laughter. She grabbed him and pulled him through the crowd. Just as they reached the door, she spoke.
"You'd better be worth it, studmuffin."
In the background, Sharon Anderson, after a stumbling start, had risen to the occasion. Much to Ron's bemusement, he heard her say, "I'm fine now, Mr. President. Yes, it was quite harrowing. By the way, sir, I want you to know that all of us in the Stars' organization share your concern about adequate funding for preschool education…"
"Studmuffin?" Dan pulled out onto the highway. "You called me studmuffin!"
Phoebe was still trying to catch her breath. "This game can go two ways, Coach. Don't be surprised if you're in the final two minutes of the Super Bowl-"
"You wouldn't."
"I might."
He looked over at her and smiled. "Speaking of the Super Bowl. Will you marry me as soon as it's over?"
"How about Valentine's Day?"
"Too long."
"Groundhog Day?"
"Deal." The Ferrari raced down the ramp onto the Tollway. "You know that we've got a few problems we need to talk through before we get married."
"I'm not getting rid of Pooh."
"See, there you go being antagonistic. Marriage means learning to compromise."