Hard & Deep: A Football Romance

"Okay. Thanks." A sudden wave of nervousness washed over her.

He nodded. "Yes ma’am."

Tracy closed her eyes and sucked in a big breath of the fragrant air. There was a line of folks waiting not far from where she stood. Among them, she was sure, were local food critics and elite business women and men. Mr. Hayes had seen to the guest list, making sure that all of the right people would be in attendance.

Everything, it seemed, was perfect. Which, if experience meant anything, meant that Tracy's world was going to turn into a disaster.

She snapped open her eyes and exhaled. From there, her feet carried her to the lobby, where she slipped open the deadbolt on the front doors and pushed them open. Waiting to greet her at the head of the line was Mr. Hayes. He flashed her a toothy smile and adjusted the lapel of his tux jacket.

"You ready?" he asked, kissing her cheek. His touch was comforting.

"Yep. Marcy," she said to her lead hostess, who was waiting nearby. "Let’s start seating."

The young blonde nodded and went to work, dispatching each of her six girls with table after table of important folks and their guests. Tracy stood back with Mr. Hayes and watched all of it, her hands clasped together so tightly that her knuckles were white.

Mr. Hayes rested his hand on the small of her back. "Having fun yet?"

She cocked an eyebrow up at him. "This is supposed to be fun?"

Both of them chuckled. It was a well-needed respite.

"I’m going to go check on things in the kitchen," he said and took his hand away. "Call me on the radio if you need anything."

Tracy nodded and watched him slip through the crowd and disappear. She walked outside into the parking lot. Not far, but just enough to get away from the restless din of voices, plates and glasses.

There was a cool breeze starting to roll through the city, and it grabbed the stray hairs that had fallen from her ponytail, gently fluttering them about her face. Her cheeks were still flushed, so the wind felt even colder that it normally would have. She shivered and looked to her left, where a small alley ran between her restaurant and the designer boutique next door, leading to the next street over. Tracy hadn't been down it, as she didn’t make a habit of strolling alone at night.

Just as she was about to go back in, something drew her eyes. A little puff of smoke bubbled up from behind a streetlight. Tracy stood still and watched as another went up and subsequently carried away by the chilly wind.

It wasn’t until then that she noticed how quiet the rest of the block was. Aside from her bustling event, hardly a car went by and there were even fewer pedestrians. Tracy took a step forward and looked closely.

Behind the lamp’s halo of yellow light, a familiar silhouette made her skin crawl. He was bulky, but not very tall. Maybe even an inch or two shorter than her, though if it was who she thought it was, that wouldn’t matter.

It’s him.

She rested her hand on the car next to her, using it to propel herself forward when her feet wanted to run in the opposite direction. Her steps were slow, but Tracy had to know if it was the man from her vision, the one whose identity had eluded her for almost a month. A deep, ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach seemed to already have the answer, but she had to know for sure.

Halfway across the lot, the man flicked his cigarette into the street and pushed away from the streetlight. He started down the alley without so much as a glance her way. Tracy followed, though she kept her distance. All the while, her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. It was getting hard to breathe normally, and her head felt like it would float right off of her neck. The whole world felt like it was being turned upside down.

Tracy slipped past the streetlight and watched as he made it halfway down the alley and abruptly stopped. Her breath caught in her throat.

Did he notice me?

For a while, he just stood there. It took Tracy a while to work up the nerve to go over there, but eventually she did. To her, the risk that she was taking was worth it if it meant getting the answers that she so desperately needed.

She started down the alley, inching closer to the man as the rising tide of fear grew in her chest. Finally she reached him, though she was careful to stay an arm’s distance away.

"Who are you?" her voice came out as nothing more than a squeak.

The man didn’t answer. Going against all of the alarm bells sounding in her head, Tracy reached out to him. Her fingers barely grazed the man’s tattered jacket when he spun on his heels. Tracy jumped backwards with a yelp, sure that she had made a grave mistake.

To her surprise, the man who greeted her was not the one from her dream, but rather one of the neighborhood bums. He smiled at her with a toothless (and far from sober) grin.

"Hey there, honey!"

Tracy suddenly felt like she was going to throw up. Hot tears stung the corners of her eyes and she felt the skin on the back of her neck get hot. All of the swirling emotions in her head were becoming too much for her to handle. She wondered if maybe she was losing her grip on reality, if she had gotten herself in over her head.

She backed away from the stranger, then turned and ran to the rear of her restaurant. The tears were flowing freely by the time she arrived seconds later.