Chapter 16

"Mattie." Brenna sighed. "Please stop shredding the napkins."

"I can't. I'm too nervous." He crumpled up the debris and wadded it into a ball. There hadn't been enough time for them to get to either her place or his or even his parents' house in time to watch the noon news so she'd dragged him into y were sitting in a bar down the block from the jewelry shop. The little bag with the box containing the diamond ring he'd just bought was burning a hole in his pockets. He'd take it out and look at it except he didn't want to flash it so the whole bar could see it.

"You're driving me crazy," she told him.

"I think I'm driving myself crazy," he muttered. "What if Dara can't get her to watch the broadcast? What if she thinks it's a dorky idea? Or what if - "

"Will you stop with the what ifs? She didn't throw Chad out of her office. And Dara would have called if she'd gotten really angry about it."

"I know, I know." He shook his head. "God. I' can't believe I fucked this thing up between so badly."

"Listen. We all make mistakes. You're doing everything you can to fix this one. If I was Liz, I'd be thrilled a man went to this much trouble for me."

"A man who'd treated her the way I did?"

Brenna chuffed a laugh. "Okay, you've got me there. But let's not buy trouble until we have to. Drink your beer."

He moved he bottle around making wet circles on the bar. "I don't drink this early in the day."

"Then why didn't you order something else?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. Seemed the easiest thing to do."

Brenna burst out laughing. "Are you afraid you'll lose your Man Card if you order a soft drink?"

"Yes. Maybe. No." He scratched his neck. "I don't know."

"Well, the good news is they're almost to the sports report on the noon broadcast." She pointed to the television over one corner of the bar, then motioned to the bartender who wasn't doing a whole hell of a lot at the moment. "Could we ask you to turn that up a little, please?"

"Sure. Hardly anyone ever wants to hear the news. We leave it on, though, just in case." He pointed a remote at the television and the sound increased just as the logo for the sports came on. Then the screen was filled with a huge picture of the last game of the championship series, the shot taken as Matt scored the winning goal.

"Before I give you the latest on the Spurs," the sports reporter said, "I have a hot tip for you. Matt Vorchak, premier defenseman for the Cajun Rage and a San Antonio native, is in town. He'll be here at five o'clock with The Cup, the trophy the team received for winning the league championship. It's customary for each team member to have The Cup for one twenty-four hour period. They each have something special planned and we understand Matt's plan is really special. Tune in at five to see Matt and The Cup and hear all about some exciting plans in his personal life."

Matt had noticed others in the bar looking up at the television as soon as the volume was turned up. Now he could hear the murmur of conversation, people who were no doubt wondering what he was going to say. He didn't care about them. He only wanted to know if Liz had seen it. If Dara had managed to get her to the spa and if she'd persuaded someone to turn on a television there. And what her reaction was.

He sat hunched over his still full beer, his cell phone in front of him, hoping n one here would notice him. It wasn't as if he was a well-known face in San Antonio. Oh, they covered him plenty in the sports section. Hometown star and all that. But he figured, and fortunately, that no one in this bar could tell you what he looked like.

Brenna had signaled for the check when his phone chimed with a text.

"She saw it. Wants to know what the hell is going on. *grin"

Matt typed his answer.

"Did she think I was doing something stupid?"

"Ha ha. She's thought everything you did was stupid for a long time."

"Come on, Dara."

"OK. She's intrigued. More to come."

"Everything going okay?"

"So far so good. Later."

He stuck the phone in his pocket, slapped a twenty on the bar and slid off the bar stool.

Brenna caught his arm. "Aren't you going to wait for your change?"

"Nope. We weren't real customers. Let the bartender get something for as often as he asked if we needed anything. Besides, I want to get the hell out of here. We have stuff to do. Come on."

She hurried to keep up with him.

"Taka a breath for a minute, okay? This isn't a race."

"We need to get downtown and make arrangements," he reminded her. "And I have to get home, make myself presentable and be back at the station at four."

"Okay, okay." She speedwalked to keep up with him. "Just take a breath here, okay? We'll get it all done, and in plenty of time."

"What am I going to do if she won't accept anything?" The idea made him physically ill. "If Dana cant get her downtown or she won't get in the carriage, or she tells me to go take a hike or - "

"Stop it. Right this minute." Brenna stepped around in front of him and put her hands on his chest.

"But - "

"But, but, but. Yes, anything can happen. Yes, she can tell you it's too little, too late. Yes, she can tell you to kiss her ass." She pressed her hands to his chest. "If she does, we'll figure something else out. You might not be able to undo eight years' damage in one night. But Mattie? I see how serious you are about this and I'm stunned. So if I can believe, maybe Liz can."

"And if not?"

She studied his face for a long time, looked into his eyes as if trying to see inside him.

"Then we'll just work harder to change her mind. We won't give up, okay?"

He managed a smile for her. "Okay. But I may be a raging maniac if this doesn't work."

"Let's just wait and see what happens. Now move it! We have places to go and things to do!"