Jennifer had an answer for that “But during that time, you earn more than most people do in an entire career. You can save, invest, retire, and open a chain of restaurants or become a sportscaster. Those few years set you up for life. I’ll take your prospects over those of Joe Average American.”

He spread his hands. “I surrender. I can’t outtalk you, counselor.”

Her eyes flashed to his face. “How did you know I was a lawyer?”

He smiled slightly. “Those legal terms you were rattling off when you went over my contract with me had the easy ring of familiarity. Besides, some of the mail on your desk was addressed to ‘Jennifer Gardiner, J.D.’ That’s a law degree, isn’t it?”

Jennifer eyed him. “Very observant.”

He made a deprecating gesture. “I try.”

Sal arrived with a pitcher of iced tea. “Fresh made, with lemon and lime,” he announced. “How about some wine? Chianti, Valpolicella, Chablis, or Bordeaux for the lady?”

“No thanks, Sal. Jennifer can’t get blitzed at lunch, she has a busy afternoon ahead.”

Jennifer threw Lee a dirty look, to which he responded with a stare of outraged innocence.

“I bring you some garlic bread,” Sal said and trudged off.

Jennifer had to laugh. “He doesn’t give up easily, does he?”

Lee shook his head. “Sal is convinced that he could bring about world peace in one day if he could just get all the leaders of the various countries to sit down to a spaghetti dinner and share a few glasses of wine. What couldn’t be solved under those circumstances?”

“I’m not so sure he’s wrong.”

Lee poured them both a tumblerful of tea. “I’m not so sure, either, counselor.”

Jennifer sipped her drink. “You can drop the ‘counselor.’ I haven’t practiced for about three years, not since I took the first contract administrator’s position with the Freedom.”

“Why did you leave private practice?”

“Because I was offered twice what I was making as an associate at Chaus and Reynolds to come to the Freedom.”

Lee grinned. “Good reason.”

“I thought so.”

“But you’re still a lawyer.”

“I’m still a member of the bar, yes, but I don’t go into court anymore. I was hired for the contracts expertise I picked up during my tenure with the firm. They did a lot of corporate work.”

“I see. It’s like Holy Orders, once in, never out Thou art a priest forever,’ that sort of thing.”

He was needling her again. She decided not to rise to the bait. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

He raised his glass of tea to her and said, “Here’s looking at you, kid,” in a very bad Bogart imitation.

Jennifer furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “Jimmy Cagney?” she guessed.

Lee put the glass down, exasperated.

She snapped her fingers. “I know! Peter Lorre.”

“Very funny,” he said darkly, reaching for a breadstick. Jennifer noticed that three of the fingers on his right hand were purpled and swollen.

“Good lord,” she said. “What happened to your hand?”

He glanced down at it “Oh. I stoved my fingers in practice yesterday.”

“You ‘stoved’ your fingers. What on earth does that mean?”

He shifted his weight back in his chair, raising his hand in the air to demonstrate. “When you catch a football, you have to palm it, like this,” he said, showing her where the ball should fit into the hand of the pass receiver. “But if it’s coming in too high and you try to grab it, sometimes it clips your fingers and causes bruises. It travels with a great deal of force, and the impact creates the marks you see.”

“Is it very painful?”

“Oh, no. It looks worse than it is. I’d rather have this any time than a strawberry.”

“A strawberry?” Jennifer asked, fascinated.

“A skin burn, similar to what baseball players get from sliding. The worst ones come from Astroturf.

They can really smart. I had one once that laid my whole arm open from the wrist to the elbow.”

Jennifer listened, amazed at his tone. He spoke cheerfully, in a matter-of-fact manner that surprised her. He wasn’t complaining, merely describing an occupational hazard, like a fireman discussing smoke inhalation.

Sal arrived to check on their progress. After clucking over the amount left on Jennifer’s plate, he cleared the dishes away, promising to return shortly with “a surprise.”

Jennifer groaned. “What does that mean? An entire sheet cake?”

“Probably. But whatever it is, please eat some of it, or I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”

Sal returned with a pot of espresso, a set of tiny cups and saucers, and something under a flowered napkin which he described as a “brown bonnet” He set it down and went back for dessert plates.

“Dare I take a look?” Lee said.

“Why not? Live dangerously.”

Inspection revealed a round cake, iced with chocolate, with a topping of cherries in a thick glaze. When Sal came back, he sliced into it to reveal a whipped cream center.

“Here you go,” he said, cutting a huge piece for Jennifer and an even huger one for Lee. “I wrap up the rest of it for you to take home.”

“Thanks, Sal,” Lee said, winking at Jennifer. “It looks fantastic.”

“Baked this morning,” Sal said proudly.

“Have some with us,” Lee offered.

“Oh, no, got to get back,” Sal said. “Another time, you come in, we have a good dinner, okay?”

“Okay.”

Sal vanished again. They could hear him at the back of the kitchen scolding one of the waiters in staccato Italian.

Lee laughed, lifting a forkful to his mouth. “If Roy could see me with this, he’d put me on suspension for a week.”

“Roy?”

“The team trainer.”

“Oh, you mean Roy O’Grady.”

“Yup. If I gain a pound he screams at me like an enraged leprechaun. ‘You got to be thin to be fast,’ he says. I often point out to him that he himself is thirty pounds overweight, but it doesn’t seem to make much of an impression.”

But Jennifer noticed that he only took two bites and left the rest. Self-denial had become a way of life.

They drank the coffee, and Jennifer realized that the clock on the wall behind Lee read almost four. Lee saw her glance at it and pushed his chair back. “I’ll just go talk to Sal a minute. He won’t let me pay for this, and he’ll also want to saddle me with three salamis and a prosciutto ham before I go. I want to give him some tickets. I’ll be right back.”

Jennifer waited, taking out her compact and examining herself in its mirror. She looked glowing...happy. And she knew the reason why.

Lee returned, with a package wrapped in butcher paper under his arm. “I begged off the cake and wound up with a baked chicken instead,” he said, grinning. “I also called a cab. Let’s make our getaway now, before Sal sees the taxi. He’ll want me to take his car.”

They tiptoed out like kids playing hide and seek and met the cab at the door. They tumbled into the back, breathless, laughing, pleased with their escape.

Jennifer gave the cabbie her address, and a silence fell as they realized their time together was coming to an end. When they pulled up to Jennifer’s house, Lee told the cabbie to wait and walked her to the door.

There didn’t seem to be anything to say. Their shared afternoon had changed things between them, and they both knew it.

Lee ran a strand of her hair through his fingers. “I enjoyed myself today, Jenny with the light brown hair.”

“So did I.”

He glanced up at the two-story frame house. “Do you live here alone?”

“I rent the second floor from the widow of a doctor. She owns the house and lives downstairs. The upper story used to be his office, and she had it converted for a rental when he died.” She couldn’t imagine a topic of less interest at the moment, but she was stalling and had the feeling he was, too.

“Are you going to be in that game for the Heart Fund in a couple of weeks?” he asked.

He was referring to a charity benefit that the Freedom sponsored each year as a preseason event Some of the players participated in a touch football game with a group of employees, and tickets were sold to spectators, with the proceeds going to the Heart Fund.