“I have four tickets, so you can bring someone else if you want to.”

“Wait, aren’t you coming?”

“Me?” Miranda hadn’t even considered it. “I’m not a football fan.”

“You’re a Theo fan and he’s a fan of yours, so we’d all like you to come. If you’re not working.” Dennis paused for a moment. “We haven’t seen you in a while, and I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty or anything. It would just be nice.”

She knew Dennis meant what he said, but guilt elbowed her just the same. She didn’t go home to the farm much. Her time off was spent cultivating contacts at new restaurants or previewing hot Broadway shows. If she wanted to be a competent head concierge, she had to be able to get whatever her clients wanted—within the law. “Of course I’ll come. Thank you for inviting me.”

“I’m pretty sure you invited us,” Dennis said.

“You know what I mean.”

“Does Luke Archer live in your building? I swear I won’t tell anyone if he does. Not even Patty.” She could hear his wife snort.

Dennis knew how seriously she took the residents’ privacy concerns. However, it was common knowledge that the quarterback lived in the Pinnacle, so Miranda could admit it. “Yes. He doesn’t usually ask for anything because he has his own assistant, and everyone showers him with freebies anyway. However, his brother is visiting and needed some help, so Mr. Archer gave me the goodies as a thank-you.”

“Heck of a thank-you,” Dennis said. “Wait till I tell Theo. He’ll be over the moon.”

“We’re not telling him until Saturday.” It was Patty again. “Otherwise he’ll drive us crazy.”

Theo could be a bit obsessive. “I won’t mention it if I talk to him,” Miranda promised. Sometimes her nephew would ask his parents to dial her up so he could check in with her, which she considered a huge compliment. “I’m at work, so I’d better go. We’ll work out logistics later.”

After Miranda hung up, she decided she should write Luke a polite thank-you note. Pulling out a piece of the Pinnacle’s elegant cream notepaper, she picked up a pen.

Dear Mr. Archer,

He could make her address him as Luke to his face, but not in writing.

Thank you very much for including some additional gifts with the autographed football.

She liked her little dig of understatement there, but then she got sincere.

You’ve made my nephew a very happy boy. My brother might be an even happier man. In fact, I have caught Empire fever and will be attending the game myself.

She hoped he wouldn’t remember she’d claimed to be working on Sunday.

In all seriousness, you gave us more than just tickets. You gave us a wonderful family outing. We all appreciate that.

Regards,

Miranda Tate

She reread the note and addressed it to Luke Archer’s apartment. She would give it to the building’s messenger to hand deliver.

Now it was time to deal with all the messy requests Orin had dumped out of his in-box and into hers.

Chapter 3

The next morning, Luke sat on a stool at the counter in his big, open kitchen, drinking a protein shake and rereading Miranda Tate’s note. She was a class act, that lady. What really got him in the gut, though, was the image of Aunt Miranda with her nephew, the Empire fan. Luke had no idea how old the kid was, but he put the concierge in her late twenties, so the nephew could be about the age of DaShawn’s nine-year-old son.

Luke looked forward to Trevor starting a family so he’d have a nephew who cheered on the team, no matter whether they won or lost.

The imaginary nephew left a hollow ache in Luke’s chest, so he grabbed Miranda’s note and slid off the stool to head for his home office. As he stepped through the door, a slant of early sun caught in the jewels of his Super Bowl rings arrayed in their glass case and threw a confetti of light onto the opposite wall. He kept most of his trophies and memorabilia at his ranch in Texas, but his rings, his second Heisman Trophy, and the congratulatory letter from Joe Namath came with him to New York for the season as his good luck charms.

He stopped in front of the rings. A hell of a lot of pain and effort had gone into earning them. Not just on his part, but from the whole team. His fourth Super Bowl win had been a brutal contest against the Patriots, with too many players from both teams getting driven off the field on stretchers. Some never came back to the game.

Trying to shake off his gloomy mood, Luke dropped into the ergonomic chair behind the glass-and-chrome desk and clicked on the Pinnacle’s staff e-mail list to find Miranda Tate.

Dear Miranda,

He figured it was time to move to a first name basis. In fact, as he remembered it, he’d asked her to call him Luke. He tipped back the chair and stared at the sparkling rings as he debated what to say next.

A picture formed in his mind of the sophisticated concierge with the hot simmer behind her eyes wearing his team’s jersey instead of her conservative silk blouse. He’d like to see that, although it would be even better if she wore nothing underneath the jersey.

His mind started to drift in a dangerous direction, and he pulled himself up short. She worked in the building where he lived, and he had a football season to focus on.

But it wouldn’t hurt to go see Aunt Miranda and offer an extra treat for her nephew so he could find out how that Empire jersey suited her.

Manny, her favorite doorman, walked into Miranda’s office as she was putting on her coat to leave after a quiet night shift.