At a table nearby, he collected another empty dish and said hello to a couple of the Croft’s friends.
“A lovely couple,” Teresa was telling Betty. “It’s the first grandchild on both sides of the family and relatives are traveling from Italy for the christening.”
“How lovely,” Betty crooned.
“They’ve having the ceremony at St. Patrick’s—”
Tina gasped. “Oh, I love that cathedral.”
“I know,” Teresa said. “So gorgeous. It’s going to be a stunning event. I’ve reserved District Whiskey’s rooftop terrace for the reception.”
“That’s one swanky christening,” Tina said, an edge of humor in her voice. “Beckett’s lucky he made it to the neighborhood church. I’d have been just as satisfied to dunk him in the nearest pond as soon as the ice thawed and make the sign of the cross on his forehead.”
Tate was chuckling to himself, already planning how he’d repeat that to Beckett when Quinn approached the women. Tate saw his opening and started around the chairs toward the front of the seating arrangement.
“Oh, Quinn, honey,” Teresa said. “Can I have a minute?”
Tate’s feet stopped.
Teresa excused herself and stepped just a couple of feet away with Quinn. Tate waited patiently. If he didn’t get the information now, he’d forget and never send it. And the way Teresa’s calendar was filling up, it would be too late for Dave to get in with her.
“What’s up?” Quinn asked.
“I just got an email from Senator Dioli’s wife, Angela with a signed contract. She’s bringing the deposit check by the warehouse tomorrow.”
“Wow.” Quinn didn’t sound anywhere near as excited as Teresa. “What’s the date of the christening?”
“August—“ Someone walked between them and Tate didn’t hear the date.
“Isn’t that the same weeked as the Devoy wedding?” Quinn asked.
“Yes, but the wedding’s on Sunday, the christening’s on Saturday.”
“But we’ll be preparing for the wedding all week.” Stress lifted Quinn’s voice an octave. “We’ll need Saturday to set up—”
“Honey, don’t worry about those details now. With the payment from that christening, we only need one more decent sized job to pay off the balloon payment.”
Balloon payment. The women continued to talk, but Tate’s mind rolled back in time. He only had negative associations with balloon payments, because he’d had one on the house he and Lisa had been renovating when they divorced. From what he could remember, balloons were generally used for quick turn around sales or less than favorable borrower arrangements. And he knew they carried significant risk.
Now Tate’s mind veered to Olivia’s love for her childhood home. To how deeply connected the house was to Olivia’s memories of her father. A father she’d lost too soon. The thought of how she’d feel if her mother and sister lost that house…
“Excuse us.” The voice belonged to an older couple passing between Tate and Quinn and Teresa. Everyone’s gaze shifted. Teresa and Quinn locked eyes with Tate, and he instantly saw the oh-shit pass through their expressions.
By the time the elderly couple hobbled their way past, Teresa had collected herself. “Well, hi, Tate. Enjoying the party?”
“Very much.” He glanced at Quinn then back to Teresa. “I didn’t mean to interrupt—”
“It’s fine,” Teresa said, but her expression said something different.
Tate pushed forward. “My agent is looking for a planner to help him arrange some events for a handful of college kids and their parents he has coming into town in a couple of weeks. He says they’re being recruited to the NBA and NFL.”
“Oh, really?”
Tate nodded. “He’ll need someone to be the liaison for the families, find them accommodations, create a schedule for them that includes time with my agent and various tours as well as some down time with tourist type activities that fit their preferences.”
“Sounds very doable.” She glanced at Quinn and nodded. Quinn shrugged, nodded. Teresa smiled at Tate. “Yes, yes. If you’d like to give me his number, I’ll call him in the morning.”
“I’ll get you his email and his number. He’s vacationing in Greece, but he’ll be back in a few days. And I’ll pass your information onto him as well.”