I feel even warmer, and search for anything to change the subject and take the focus off me. "So where did you learn such good manners? Opening doors, escorting, my chair . . . you're almost old-fashioned."
Tyler chuckles and traces a design on the tablecloth with his finger. "My father insisted that I learn some of, what he called, society skills. He's from the country club set, and while he had no problems with me being an athlete, he also insisted that I learn at least something about his background."
"What does he do?"
He goes a bit quiet, then shrugs. "He's a lawyer. We don’t talk a whole lot ever since he and Mom got divorced when I was in high school. He moved out of Cali, went overseas to work in his firm's London office. He emails, and he paid for some of the perks I had going through college, but we don’t see each other too often. He could’ve given more, but he claims he didn’t want me ending up being a trust fund kid. Ironic.”
"What do you mean?"
Tyler shrugs. "The one trust fund kid on the football team, he's the one who just signed a huge contract with the Wildcats. At least, we thought he was trust fund until it came out his Dad was secretly in debt up to his ass. Duncan's maybe my best friend from college. He had all the trust fund kid perks, and still turned out fine. He's about to be a father."
"Wow, really?"
Tyler nods. “I guess he did have help. He met the right girl. They fell in love, and well, she kept him straight.”
”You sound a bit jealous."
“I might be, a little bit,” Tyler says, laughing. "I think we're all searching for that One, I guess. I seem to be one of those just keep searching, and getting myself in trouble doing it."
"We all do stupid things," I reply. "Me, I'm not exactly prime mental material myself."
"Why do you say that? I mean, you graduated college, you've done a good job with helping me out the past few days . . ."
"Actually, you're my last chance with the Fighters," I tell him, surprised I'm letting it slip. The cat's out of the bag though, so I might as well finish it. "I've been with the team just a little over a year and a half, starting out doing an internship my last grading period, and in that time I've been dismissed from being a PA twice now. Mr. Larroquette told me, I screw this one up, I need to start seriously looking for another job."
"Well, what screwed it up in the past? Was it just bad luck?”
I shake my head, looking down. “I’m juts not assertive enough. I don't ask questions when I should, because I don't want to look dumb. I make mistakes, or don't speak up when I should and others make mistakes."
I thought Tyler would have laughed, but instead he reaches across the table and takes my good hand. "Then let's make a deal. You help me keep on the right path here in Toronto, and I'll help you with shyness. I still don't know what you’re shy about though."
I want to answer, but instead the waiter comes, and after we place our orders, Tyler looks around at the restaurant, obviously impressed. "You chose well."
"Thanks. I know it's not Los Angeles, but we've got some nice places in Toronto."
"I agree. I've been surprised at that. But it's a pretty city. I'll enjoy the time I'm here."
I take a sip of water, wondering if I should ask the question that's been on my mind multiple times over the past few days. "Tyler . . . I know this may not be my place, as your PA or your date, but you've made a few comments, like you don't want to play in Toronto for a long time."
"Guess it's that obvious?" Tyler responds with a sigh and a chuckle. “It’s not anything against the city. I just want to get to the League — it’s always been a dream. Plus, Duncan's signing bonus alone for his rookie contract in the League is worth what I'd make in years here in Toronto."
"So you want the big money contract?" I ask, not offended. Just about every guy who comes up to Canada is looking for another shot down south. "Even if it means playing for a team that has no chance at winning?”
Tyler chuckles. "Okay, maybe not, but you get my point."
I want to say there are things more important than money, but I can't. Not with the situation I'm in right now, where I'm pouring every spare penny I can into trying to make my parents' lives a little bit easier at the hospital. Instead, we make small talk until dinner comes, and I will give the restaurant credit, they may be a steakhouse but they make a pretty mean filet of salmon too. The whole time, Tyler's looking at me with desire in his eyes, and warmth fills my belly, focusing between my thighs.
"So you know where I got this suit, where'd you get that dress?" he asks about halfway through dinner. "It's perfect on you."
I blush, even if the word perfect is meant for the dress and not me. "A gift, from a friend. Like you, her family has money, although she's more free and has a better relationship with her folks. She bought it for me just before we graduated together and she moved to Vancouver. We still email every once in a while. She'll be happy I finally wore this thing."