Dean sat back in his chair and rubbed his washboard abs. At first, he couldn't understand the nearly hour-long wait at Brenda's French Soul Food, but once he had a taste of the Andouille cheddar omelet, his mouth was in orgy heaven.
"So what do you think?" Sydney smiled as she finished her beignets. "You like?"
"This was one of the best breakfasts I've ever had," he exclaimed, "just perfection."
"Yeah, I told you the wait was long but it's so worth it," she sipped her orange juice, "so good."
"So what's next on the menu for today?" He asked. "I'm open for anything."
"Well, I was thinking we could do a little sightseeing and then rest for a bit," Sydney paused before she continued, "and have dinner."
"Sounds good," he smiled, "what do you have in mind for dinner?"
"My friends invited us out to dinner," she drew out the words as if she was trying to pronounce them.
Dean raised an eyebrow and grinned. If Sydney's other friends were anything like Sarah, they were going to be a riot. "Oh?"
"You don't have to go and if you want to wait until the next time you're here, that's fine, too. I just figured this would be something we could just get out of the way and focus the rest of your trip on us." She gave a half-grin that read, 'Please don't kill me.'
"I think it would be great, baby girl." Dean smiled again. "I would love to meet the rest of your friends."
They spent the rest of the day sightseeing and visiting little shops and places in San Francisco. Sydney showed him parts of her childhood – the schools she went to and the little Mom and Pop stores she'd visited with friends. They went to the mall, which was so huge, Dean felt dizzy when he first stepped inside it. Sydney, on the other hand, navigated through it like it was second nature.
"You spend a lot of time here?" Dean asked as they casually walked through the mall.
"Yes. Maybe too much." Sydney admitted with a twinge of embarrassment in her voice. "If nothing else to do, let's go to the mall."
"Nothing wrong with that," he replied.
"Gosh, I must be the most boring girlfriend you've ever had," she replied.
"It's actually the opposite," Dean remembered the surprise paparazzi attack from the other night, "I actually enjoy that you're quiet and you keep to yourself."
"Now was that another way of saying, 'I'm glad you're boring, Syd'?" She smiled.
Dean stopped walking and pulled Sydney close to him. "It's another way of saying, 'I love you just the way you are, Syd.'" He kissed her again, sweeping his lips over hers.
"Dude, are you the Lunatic?" A voice called out from the back.
Dean turned around and saw two guys wearing Kings jerseys approach him. One was blond while the other was a ginger. "Hey, what's going on?"
"Dude, I'm your biggest fan!" The ginger ran up to him.
"Dude, what? You didn't even know who he was until I took you to a Sharks game!" The blond replied.
"Bro, whatever!" The ginger shook his head. "I'm a fan now and dude, that play you did the other night was so sick!"
"Yo, can I get a pic and an autograph?" The blond asked.
"Sure!" Dean grabbed a sharpie marker from the ginger and signed autographs for the men. He then posed for pictures, with Sydney acting as photographer.
"You da man, Ambrose!" The ginger pointed as they started to leave. "You da man!" The fans left giving each other high-fives and looking at the photos.
"And that's why I do that," Dean nodded towards the fans, "I remember when I got my autograph from Michael Jordan. I couldn't stop talking about it for like six months. It'll go down as one of my favorite memories of all time."
"You're so altruistic," Sydney smiled, "I never knew you had it in you."
"I know a lot of hockey players are supposed to be toothless, brash, and maybe stupid," Dean rattled off the stereotypes, "but there are a lot of good guys."
"And I'm glad I know at least one of them," she replied, "anyway, that's about it. I want to go to another store but I'll do that after you leave because I don't want to freak you out."
"You don't want to freak me out?" He enunciated each word and pretended to be in deep thought before he looked up again. "A jewelry store?"
"I just want to look at something I'm saving up for and see if it's still available. It's Tiffany so I know it is."
"Well, then, let's go." Dean led the way. "I'm curious to see what you're saving for."
They walked hand-in-hand to Tiffany & Co. and Sydney led Dean to the necklace section. Staring back in her face, Sydney pointed to the rose gold Tiffany heart. After getting into some credit card trouble when she was in college, she swore to save up and pay for things she really wanted, even though she could easily dip into her savings to get it.
"I'm about a month away from taking you home with me," Sydney sang to the pendant.
"Why wait a month?" Dean made eye contact with a salesperson. "Let's get it now."
"I can't afford it now," Sydney softly shook her head.
"I know you can't," he turned towards her with a twinkle in his eyes, "that's why I'm getting it for you."
Sydney felt her heart warmed up with insurmountable love and happiness. She immediately quietly compared Dean and Roman. Roman would've just wished her good luck with getting the necklace and here Dean was, offering to buy it with his American Express black card.
She hoped no one was around to pinch her. Dean was a dream she didn't want to wake up from.
Chicago in January was ridiculously cold. There wasn't a nice way of saying it. If hell could be cold, it would be Chicago.
Renee navigated through O'Hare with her Louis Vuitton carry-on and expensive attire that consisted of Gucci, Valentino, and Balenciaga. If she had to remove herself from the sunshine of Los Angeles to the armpit of Illinois, at least she looked good.
Personal looks aside, Renee was on a mission. She was going to see Dean and fuck him…erm, convince him why he should join her show. It would benefit them both and it would give her one more reason to flaunt her relationship in Naomi's face. She loved being Queen of the WAGs but it would hard to maintain her throne when a new and more illustrious Queen had arrived.
Due to some careful sleuthing before she left, Renee knew exactly where Dean would be. His mother's home was still publicly listed and accessible to the public. She would play the role of concerned friend who just happened to be in the neighborhood and he would invite her in. Dean's mother would share stories about his upbringing while Renee would laugh and nod appropriately. Then when it was just the two of them, that's when she would lay it on him.
Sydney who?
She'd arrived in front of the home and instructed the driver to wait a few moments. She didn't want to appear desperate with her luggage in tow. It would be too obvious. No, she had to play her role. It was the very least she could do.
She walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. She practiced her best mournful face and was ready to turn the tears on cue. She removed the sunglasses from her face and prepared to throw herself in the arms of Dean.
The door opened. It was show time. "Hi, I'm Renee and I'm -–" She paused as she looked at the man before him. He kinda looked like Dean but was definitely not her Dean.
"My brother's not here," a tall, muscular blond responded. He folded his arms across his broad chest and had an annoyed look on his face. "If you want, I can give you an autographed picture of him."
"No, I'm a friend of Dean's," Renee tried to mask the embarrassment on her face. "He said he was going out of town to visit family and I just happened to be in the neighborhood so I thought he would be here."
Muscle Man shook his head as eyed Renee. She wore an overcoat but felt the need to cover up a bit more from his peering eyes. "Sorry, blondie. He ain't here."
"Oh," she felt defeated, "do you know when he'll be back?"
"I guess at the end of the season," Muscle Man shrugged, "I'll tell him you stopped by, though."
"Yes, please." Renee smiled before she left. "Thank you."
Muscle Man closed the door and walked back inside. He immediately sent a text to his brother and rejoined his mother at the dining room table for tea. "Who was that, honey?" Melissa asked.
He knew who she was. The Notorious R.E.N.E.E. He recognized her picture from the gossip blogs his wife showed the other day. He was curious one day and watched an episode of the Real Housewives she was on. There was no way she was going to get close to his baby brother, not if Jericho could help it. "A groupie, mom."