can break it down.” Elena placed her hands on her hips. “Floyd, it’s time to wrap this up.”
Ten minutes later, Floyd insisted on taking care of everything and sent Anderson and me to the stadium, not before I witnessed Anderson trying to hand Floyd some money for the tailgate.
I smiled momentarily when Floyd declared, “Man, your money isn’t good here. Just come back.”
My heart sank. He wasn’t coming back. Anderson and I were practice dating.
18
Anderson
The stadium seats filled as the players warmed up on the field. Sparty, Michigan State’s mascot, marched around the sidelines, getting the fans hyped as Jurnee chatted with the couple next to her. She laughed at something, and the light in her face was spectacular.
But Jurnee’s seats were awful. I decided season tickets, in a better section, would be a solid congratulations gift when she signed on the dotted line of her new partnership. Suddenly, the idea of Jurnee being able to return to Michigan for all the Michigan State games sounded like an impossibility.
She leaned in and whispered into my ear. “Thank you for agreeing to come with me.”
“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t understand what a big deal this is for you until I saw you here.”
“This–” she stood and waved her hands across the stadium, “–is a huge deal to me. Having you experience it is pretty cool too.”
“Are you telling me the secret to your heart is attending a Michigan football game with you?”
“Michigan State!” Jurnee, the two people in front of us, and the couple next to her all shouted.
I raised my hands to surrender. “Michigan State game. My mistake. It will never happen again.”
“Look, Anderson, I can’t ensure your safety if you make that type of mix up again. And, yes, one road to my heart is definitely MSU football.”
The crowd cheered at something on the field, drowning out my words. “Shit.”
Safety. I hadn’t given the safety of this trip a second thought. Hired as a driver almost a decade ago, Markus took over all aspects of my security after preventing an amateur kidnapping attempt. Growing up, I understood the need for a security detail around me after my parents left the country. It bothered me as a grown man that I would always have a bodyguard with me and a couple of plain-clothed units with a close vicinity.
Markus. Shit. I pulled out my cell phone and typed out a quick text.
Anderson - Something funny happened.
Markus - I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE YOU ARE?
Anderson - Keep in mind, you work for me!
Markus - YOUR DAD PAYS BETTER! WHERE R U?
Anderson - Michigan. Football game.
Markus - U R FKING JOKING
Anderson - We’re fine. With Jurnee.
Markus - NOT ALWAYS UR CALL
Anderson - I’m fine. It’s Michigan.
Markus - WHAT TIME R U COMING IN
Anderson - Flew commercial
Markus - WHAT
Markus - R U FKNG ME
Anderson - Can you ask Martin to book me a flight back for two tomorrow? Commercial.
Markus - I’D PREFER TO SEND THE PLANE
Anderson - Commercial.
“Everything all right?” Jurnee and I stood as a couple of junior high boys crossed in front of us. I slid my phone into my jean’s pocket and flashed her a photo-ready smile.
An explosion went off, and I ducked. Jurnee grabbed my arm and pointed to the opposite end of the stadium as smoke billowed out of the opening. Sparty ran out, followed closely by the football players and coaches.
“Don’t need to fake smile with me. It’s totally cool if the reality isn’t as spectacular as the image I described.” Jurnee and everyone else in the stadium stood and cheered. In a stadium of thousands of people, I felt exposed yet anonymous. It was freeing.
The crowd broke out in song. Jurnee sang at the top of her lungs. This moment was the happiest I’d ever seen her. Morgan Financial Holdings was offering her a multi-store partnership. She would be living in the best city in the world, but it was a local college football game that made this woman glow. Who are you, Jurnee Messer?
We spent the rest of the game trying to see the action on the field from her seats, talking shit about both teams, and breaking out in the fight song. By the time we made it back to the tailgate area, I was surprisingly well-versed in Michigan State history and told to come back anytime.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said to Floyd when we finished unloading all the equipment into Jurnee’s garage. I pulled out my wallet to try again, “I’d