“Hey there.”
Lauren spun around to find Mike standing nearby with four champagne glasses and a magnum in his hand. “Hi,” she said, momentarily stalled by the happy look in his eye, and the dazzling effect of Mike Beacon in a suit, his shirt collar open at the neck, his tie stuffed into a pocket. “Good work tonight.”
“Thanks.” He winked. “It wasn’t pretty, but it got the job done.”
“That’s me on a good day,” she joked.
He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Can’t agree there. You’ve never had a day without a whole lot of pretty.” He held out the hand with all the glasses. “Take one of these, will you? I want to pour you a glass.”
Lauren almost refused. She’d given up alcohol this past week on account of her potential pregnancy. Now she realized it didn’t matter if she had a glass of champagne. Swallowing roughly, she slipped one from his fingers. “Thanks.”
He poured, and she was all too conscious of how close to one another they were.
“Hans!” Mike called, lifting his chin toward the blond man standing nearby. “I have bubbly.”
The guy came closer, and Lauren realized where she’d seen him before—the airport. And sure enough, Hans was followed by Elsa and another man, too.
“I want some!” Elsa sang, pointing at the bottle in her father’s hand. “Just a taste!”
“You can have a sip of mine,” he said, pouring another glass. “This is for Hans, who makes it possible for me to go anywhere or do anything.” He gave the man a warm smile. “We should be drinking to his health instead of my victory.”
The blond cutie blushed, and took the glass.
“Hans, this is my friend Lauren Williams.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “And how are you, Elsa? I love your hair longer like that.” She waited to see what the girl would find to say. The poor thing had never been able to tolerate Lauren, but Lauren wasn’t about to take it personally. The kid had her reasons.
“Thanks,” she said stiffly. “That’s a nice suit jacket you’re wearing.”
The compliment startled Lauren. “Thank you!”
“My granny has one just like it,” Elsa added. Then she smiled like the Cheshire Cat.
“Does she now?” Well played, sister. Lauren bit her lip against a bark of frustrated laughter.
Behind Elsa, Hans the babysitter looked mortified. And Mike gave his daughter a stern look that said, We’ll talk later.
Looking pleased with herself, Elsa took Hans’s champagne glass out of his hand and took a taste. Then Hans snatched it back. They obviously had their hands full with this kid.
“This is Justin,” Mike said a beat later, handing a glass of champagne to a redheaded guy on the edge of their group. “And that’s my whole entourage tonight.” He poured a glass of bubbly for himself. Elsa tried to take it, but he held it out of her reach. “That’s enough,” he said, and she could swear it had more than one meaning.
Lauren shook hands with Justin and made a couple of minutes of small talk with Mike’s crew. She learned that Hans was Elsa’s violin teacher, and that springtime was—in addition to play-offs season—the season when classical musicians auditioned for symphony jobs.
“It has been somewhat crazy,” he said in a slightly clipped accent. “Last week I left for Philadelphia the minute Mike got home from Tampa. Tomorrow Elsa flies home with Justin and I go off to Cleveland.”
“That sounds stressful,” she sympathized.
“Not as stressful as the actual auditions,” Justin said, wrapping an arm around Hans.
Hans smiled again. The two of them were adorable.
Even so, Lauren made her excuses. She thanked Mike for the glass of bubbly and made noises about checking to see that every player had made it back from the arena.
There was really no more work to do tonight. The team had done it all themselves, and had earned themselves a trip to the conference finals next week. She finished her champagne and abandoned the empty glass on a table.
It was time for her to head upstairs. As she wove through the bodies toward freedom, Lauren spotted the bald head of an infant in the crowd. And when she looked over its little round head, she found that it was held in one burly arm by the young forward Castro.
She maneuvered closer for a better view. There was nothing sexier than a hunk of a guy holding a chubby little baby. “Who’ve you got there?” she asked the player.
“Hey, Lauren! This is my nephew. Isn’t he cute?”
“The cutest,” Lauren agreed. The baby had the smoothest dark-gold skin, and little starfish hands, one of which he jammed into his drooling mouth. “Can I hold him?”
“Of course you can,” Castro said, passing her the baby immediately. “I was trying to give my sister a break, and now she’s gone and ditched me.”
“Hi,” Lauren cooed to the warm bundle landing in her arms. “What’s your name, handsome?”
“Xavier,” Castro supplied.
“Hi, Xavier. Do you have any smiles for me?” The baby looked up at her with wide eyes, as if trying to decide. She used the pad of her thumb to stroke just under his soft little chin, and then he made up his mind. He opened his mouth and gave her a giant, toothless smile.
“Aw, man. I think he’s in love,” Castro said.
So was Lauren. “You are a very handsome man,” she said to the baby in a low voice. Lauren loved babies, yet they didn’t inspire her to speak in a high voice. “What are your hobbies?”
“Drooling,” Castro said quickly. “Watch your jacket, actually.”
But Lauren wasn’t worried. It wasn’t, as a matter of fact, one of her prettiest outfits. Elsa had pointed that out rather harshly, but it was half true. “What do you think, Xavier? Are you teething? Is that why you’re so drooly?”
He jammed one chubby fist into his mouth and seemed to agree with her.
“Dude, you passed my child to the first set of willing hands, didn’t you?” A woman with Castro’s coloring and a cheerful smile punched her brother in the biceps. “I’m Jackie,” she said to Lauren while Castro rubbed the spot on his arm that his sister had punished.
“Lauren,” she said, smiling at Jackie, who wore an empty baby sling over her dress and munched on a carrot stick. “I’m happy to hold him.”
“Still. I was trying to get my brother to do a little aversion therapy. How am I ever going to get any free babysitting out of him if he’s afraid of the baby?”
“I’m not afraid,” Castro sniffed. “Just . . . inexperienced. And Lauren asked.”
“I’m sure you put up a big fight,” Jackie teased.
“He did,” Lauren lied. “But I was adamant. In fact, I’m tempted to tuck him into my carry-on and take him home with me.”