business.”
“Scary.”
Tara nodded. “Like the standing-on-the-edge-of-a-cliff kind of scary. I thought about it for months before making the decision, but I knew it was a now or never kind of thing. If I didn’t make the leap I knew I’d always regret it. So I did.”
“Good for you. How long have you been doing this?”
“I started The Right Touch two years ago. First year it was just me and one other person. It was all I could afford. We were very small, but Maggie and I worked our tails off building the business. This past year I managed to bring in enough business to add more staff. It’s going well enough that I’m scarily optimistic.”
“I take it you get a lot of business from word of mouth.”
“I take it you know more than football.”
He laughed. “I did more in college than just throw the ball around. I did manage to get a degree.”
“In business, I’m guessing?”
“Yes. You surprised it wasn’t in something like parks and recreation, or PE?”
She snorted. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I’m impressed. A hotshot football player, and you’re smart, too. No wonder women flock to you.”
“They don’t flock to me because I’m smart. They flock to me because my agent is a PR wizard. She’s like a pimp for beautiful actresses and models. If they want to be seen and photographed, Elizabeth finds them and attaches them to me.”
Tara picked up a slice of bread and buttered it. “How nice for you.”
“It puts me on the cover of a lot of magazines, and that sells game tickets, which is good for the team.”
“It helps that you’re also a stellar quarterback. Your stats are amazing.”
He leaned back in his chair. “You’re a fan.”
She shrugged, took a sip of wine. “I like football.”
“Do you like it in the way of, ‘Hey, I know it’s on Sunday and Monday and Thursday,’ or do you like it like you can’t live without it and you know everything there is to know about the game?”
She laughed. “I know a hell of a lot about football. Why, are you going to quiz me?”
“Greatest quarterback of all time?”
“I think that’s a subjective question.”
“Give me your subjective answer, then.”
“Joe Montana.”
“You just say that because you live here.”
“No, I say that because he’s the greatest quarterback to ever play the game. Four Super Bowl titles, three Super Bowl MVP Awards, and I dare you to match any quarterback, past or present, to his pass rating, not to mention his cool factor in clutch situations.”
“He wasn’t even a first-round draft pick. And what about Johnny Unitas or Terry Bradshaw, Tom Brady or Peyton Manning?”
She narrowed her gaze at him. Was he serious? “You’re saying that you think those quarterbacks are better than Joe Montana?”
He paused. “I didn’t say that.”
“Aha! You agree with me, don’t you?”
His lips lifted. “Actually, I do. And not just because he and I played in the same city. Nobody played the game better than Joe.”
She nodded. “Exactly. He was a master at come-from-behind victories. And nothing could match his ninety-two-yard drive in the final minutes of Super Bowl Twenty-three for the win against the Bengals. Best. Game. Ever.”
His lips lifted. “So you might know something about football.”
“Told you.”
He grinned. “I’m glad. Most of the women draped over my arm couldn’t tell the difference between a run and a pass, let alone a draw play from a sweep. They can tell you which actor was the biggest box office draw last weekend or who the top hot designer is. But football? Forget it.”
“Then why do you date them?” She waved her hand. “Never mind, I already know. Your agent.”
“Elizabeth knows what she’s doing.”
“Your pimp, you mean.”
“She’s very good at her job and only has my best interests in mind.”
Tara leaned back, wineglass in hand, and regarded him. “If you say so. But I would think your agent, who
“Scary.”
Tara nodded. “Like the standing-on-the-edge-of-a-cliff kind of scary. I thought about it for months before making the decision, but I knew it was a now or never kind of thing. If I didn’t make the leap I knew I’d always regret it. So I did.”
“Good for you. How long have you been doing this?”
“I started The Right Touch two years ago. First year it was just me and one other person. It was all I could afford. We were very small, but Maggie and I worked our tails off building the business. This past year I managed to bring in enough business to add more staff. It’s going well enough that I’m scarily optimistic.”
“I take it you get a lot of business from word of mouth.”
“I take it you know more than football.”
He laughed. “I did more in college than just throw the ball around. I did manage to get a degree.”
“In business, I’m guessing?”
“Yes. You surprised it wasn’t in something like parks and recreation, or PE?”
She snorted. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I’m impressed. A hotshot football player, and you’re smart, too. No wonder women flock to you.”
“They don’t flock to me because I’m smart. They flock to me because my agent is a PR wizard. She’s like a pimp for beautiful actresses and models. If they want to be seen and photographed, Elizabeth finds them and attaches them to me.”
Tara picked up a slice of bread and buttered it. “How nice for you.”
“It puts me on the cover of a lot of magazines, and that sells game tickets, which is good for the team.”
“It helps that you’re also a stellar quarterback. Your stats are amazing.”
He leaned back in his chair. “You’re a fan.”
She shrugged, took a sip of wine. “I like football.”
“Do you like it in the way of, ‘Hey, I know it’s on Sunday and Monday and Thursday,’ or do you like it like you can’t live without it and you know everything there is to know about the game?”
She laughed. “I know a hell of a lot about football. Why, are you going to quiz me?”
“Greatest quarterback of all time?”
“I think that’s a subjective question.”
“Give me your subjective answer, then.”
“Joe Montana.”
“You just say that because you live here.”
“No, I say that because he’s the greatest quarterback to ever play the game. Four Super Bowl titles, three Super Bowl MVP Awards, and I dare you to match any quarterback, past or present, to his pass rating, not to mention his cool factor in clutch situations.”
“He wasn’t even a first-round draft pick. And what about Johnny Unitas or Terry Bradshaw, Tom Brady or Peyton Manning?”
She narrowed her gaze at him. Was he serious? “You’re saying that you think those quarterbacks are better than Joe Montana?”
He paused. “I didn’t say that.”
“Aha! You agree with me, don’t you?”
His lips lifted. “Actually, I do. And not just because he and I played in the same city. Nobody played the game better than Joe.”
She nodded. “Exactly. He was a master at come-from-behind victories. And nothing could match his ninety-two-yard drive in the final minutes of Super Bowl Twenty-three for the win against the Bengals. Best. Game. Ever.”
His lips lifted. “So you might know something about football.”
“Told you.”
He grinned. “I’m glad. Most of the women draped over my arm couldn’t tell the difference between a run and a pass, let alone a draw play from a sweep. They can tell you which actor was the biggest box office draw last weekend or who the top hot designer is. But football? Forget it.”
“Then why do you date them?” She waved her hand. “Never mind, I already know. Your agent.”
“Elizabeth knows what she’s doing.”
“Your pimp, you mean.”
“She’s very good at her job and only has my best interests in mind.”
Tara leaned back, wineglass in hand, and regarded him. “If you say so. But I would think your agent, who
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