Dreaming of His Pen Pal's Kiss - Jessie Gussman Page 0,33
didn’t say anything, just pressed her lips together and had a look on her face that kind of said “I told you so.”
Journee was about to ask her if she wanted company watching the dancing contest, at least for the beginning part of it, but Dante came out of the diner just ahead of them, and when he looked up the street and saw them, his face lit up with a smile and he started toward them.
“That’s a look of a guy who’s happy to see someone,” Burgundy said out of the corner of her mouth.
“So you guys have met?” Journee said, just a little tongue-in-cheek. She didn’t think that Dante was any more into her than she was into him.
And she wasn’t into him.
She thought that might be a little bit of a lie, but she wasn’t so far gone that she couldn’t come back.
She was fairly certain of that anyway. Even as she felt her own face light up and break into a smile that matched his.
She’d had a good time with him yesterday.
“Good morning, ladies,” Dante said as he reached them, stopping and shoving a hand in his pocket, filling his T-shirt quite nicely, the way she would expect a football player to do.
It didn’t hurt anything for her to admire that.
“Morning, Dante. This is Burgundy. She’s on her way to the dancing contest to watch her husband dance with another woman.”
Burgundy laughed out loud at that, and she held up her phone. “I’m even going to videotape it.” She held her hand out to Dante, who took it and shook. “Good to meet you, Dante, I’m going to head out and see if I can get a good seat for the contest. Mrs. Scholz will have my hide if I don’t get a video of the entire thing.”
They murmured some goodbyes before Burgundy hurried off.
“I take it Mrs. Scholz must be an older lady?”
Journee nodded. “I’ve never heard an exact age, but I would say upwards of eighty. She and Crew will definitely make an interesting couple.”
“Maybe we could try to see them, although we’re supposed to be at the Not Such an Ironman Ironman Contest early so we can go over the rules. Apparently, they’re slightly different than they were last year. I just got done talking to Pastor Race.”
“I think they change every year. Thanks for the heads-up though.”
“Hey, we need all the help we can get if we’re not going to end up in the pie-throwing contest. As the targets.” He grinned. “Can’t say I wouldn’t mind throwing pies at a few people. None of them are probably here today.”
“Oh really? Teammates?”
He just grinned.
She shook her head.
They had turned and started walking slowly in the general direction of the Ironman contest, which would take them behind the crowd of people watching the dancing contest. Honestly, after talking to Burgundy, Journee was a little disappointed she wasn’t going to get to see it.
But Dante was right; she didn’t want to lose the Not Such an Ironman Ironman Contest. She didn’t mind coming in any place but last, as she didn’t want to end up in the pie-throwing contest.
“It might be a good idea to get there a little early so we can size up our competition. We just have to beat one of them.”
“Great minds think alike. Although, I have to admit, any time I enter a competition, my mind is always on winning. This is the first time I’m like ‘I just don’t want to lose.’”
They laughed. “Maybe that would be a little more inspiring for pro ball, if there were cream pies involved.”
“I don’t know. I could almost see the guys not caring as long as they got to eat whatever was thrown at them. How tasty are the pies anyway?”
“No. We are not even going to go there. You are not giving up. We are not going to end up with pies on our faces.”
“There should be some kind of inspiration to try to win. What’s the award? I’ve never even heard. All I hear about are the pies,” he said as they turned down the alley, nodding to a couple other people who were coming out.
“That’s a good question. I have no idea. Maybe you get to stand on the platform and they play the American anthem or something.”
“That’s the Olympics, not Ironman competitions.”
“Okay. I’ll take your word for it. I’ve never actually watched an Ironman competition.”
The crowd for the dancing competition cheered as Mrs. Densmore, the MC for the