Then, behind him, she saw Regina. The anorexic model was being escorted by two burly policemen; she was fighting against the silver bracelets they’d placed on her. She was taken down a back hall, kicking and spitting.

“Que diablos?!” Angel said, her jaw dropping to her chest.

Before Duke could answer, Dr. Collins was escorted through the room, wearing bracelets that were an exact match to Regina’s.

A sudden glee sprang up in her chest. Oh, that copycat, she thought, a childish giggle bursting free. She laughed even harder when Duke followed her line of sight and realized she was staring at Dr. Collins. The pitcher did a double take, and then a triple take.

The doctor spotted Duke at the same time. He jounced his long, weak frame, trying to shake himself free. “Look here, you gentlemen have clearly made a mistake!” he shouted to a detective, who didn’t seem to hear him. “It’s that man you want, the young black man over there. He’s been taking drugs.”

“I—I—What…” Duke, wide-eyed, swung around to face her.

Angel put her fingertips on his arm. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

The police officer pushing Collins across the bullpen glanced over at Duke and then took a second glance, smiling wide. “Hey! Aren’t you the Duke? Can you sign an autograph for me?”

Half an hour later, Angel helped Duke out of a cab in front of the hospital. They’d both forgotten about the press. A few die-hard journalists loitered by the lobby doors and were happily surprised to see Duke returning, though they’d had no idea he’d even left.

“I’m not going to hide anymore,” Duke told her, trying to get the crutches under him. “Not going to hide what’s happening, or who I’m with.”

“They know who you’re with. Supposedly.” She shut the cab door and stepped close, helping him. “That was the whole point of you hanging out with me, remember? To give reporters a story your boss could believe?”

“You’re not still mad, are you?”

“No. You know what? I’m not mad at all.”

“Well, we don’t want to deprive these guys of their shot at the big time, do we? Maybe we should give them another photo op?” His big, green puppy eyes became shy. “For real this time?”

“You mean you want me to give you another shot.” She took off his baseball cap and threw it to a photographer. “Lucky for you, I’d already decided that.”

This time, when they kissed in front of the cameras, it lasted for a long time.

Epilogue

One year later

“Go, Jose! Run!” shouted Angel.