Happy Birthday: A Novel

She rode back to her hotel, after saying goodbye to the people she had met in the VIP box, and thanked Bob Lattimer for the trip and his wife for all her explanations, and wished her well with her daughter’s wedding in June. As far as Valerie was concerned, it had been a fantastic night. She got back to the hotel at nine-thirty, and flipped on the TV to watch Jack do the last of his interviews. He finally went off the air at ten, and half an hour later he was back in her suite. He was still on a high from the game as he walked into her room. He looked happy but beat. She congratulated him on his accurate prediction, and said he had done a great job commentating the game. And as always, he looked terrific on air.

He helped himself to a beer and sat down, talking about the game with her, and twenty minutes later he called the bellman to get their bags. He hadn’t stopped for three days. And she noticed that he was limping slightly again. He had worked nonstop since they arrived, and she had enormous respect for what he did. She had had no idea how demanding it was, just as he hadn’t understood that about her career before they met.

They were still talking about the game and the players in the limousine. At eleven-thirty they were at the airport, and the plane was waiting for them. It was going to come back to Miami the next day for Bob and Janice, but Jack wanted to get back. He was exhausted, and Valerie had to go to work.

They walked up the stairs to the plane, and Jack didn’t begin to unwind until he sat down. The flight attendant had sandwiches waiting for them, and a bottle of chilled champagne. She poured them each a glass, and Valerie toasted him with a warm smile.

“To the real hero of the Super Bowl! You did a terrific job!” He was touched by her praise, and pleased with how the broadcast had gone too, and he was happy to hear that she thought his interviews were good. He always put a lot of thought into them and had been well prepared, and she said it showed. She was truly impressed by how hard he worked, and how conscientious he was about his broadcasts. For Valerie, the weekend had been perfect from beginning to end.

The plane took off ten minutes after they’d gotten on board, and Valerie remarked how much easier it was than commercial travel. Jack looked over at her, smiled, and took her hand in his own.

“Thank you for being so wonderful all weekend.” She had been lively, enthusiastic, interested in everything, great to be with, loving, supportive, everything he could have wanted.

“Sorry I didn’t manage to come up with a rhinestone bra. Next year,” she promised, and he laughed.

“You get my vote for MVP,” he said, and then leaned over and kissed her, as passionately as he had that morning and the night before. They seemed to be growing closer every day. They had been seeing each other as friends for a month, since the terrorist attack. And they’d spent a lot of time together, and were coming to know each other well. And they had fun together.

They talked for a few more minutes, and then he fell asleep until they landed. They touched down in New York at three in the morning, after taking off at midnight from Miami. There was a limousine waiting next to the runway to take them home. And an hour later, they got to her apartment, and he was about to drop her off, and then said he’d go upstairs with her, and make sure she got in safely. She laughed at the additional attention. She was in no danger in her own building, but he insisted. What he really wanted was to kiss her away from prying eyes.

The doorman set down her luggage in the front hall of her apartment and went back down in the elevator, as Valerie took her coat off, and Jack then took her in his arms. He was hungry for her, and a minute later, they were kissing passionately again. She could hardly catch her breath when they stopped.

“I have a question to ask you,” he said softly, as he nuzzled her neck with his lips and held her close. “Can I spend the night?” She pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. “I won’t if you’re not ready … we have time …” But he wanted her more than he had any woman in his life. She was worth waiting for, but he had been burning for her all weekend, more than any twenty-two-year-old in a miniskirt and rhinestone bra.

“Is this crazy?” she whispered back between kisses. It didn’t feel like it to her, it felt right, but she wanted to be sure it did to him too.

“This makes more sense than anything I’ve ever done,” he said, and she nodded. She thought so too.