Chapter 1

The long lines at the concession stand extended to the opposite wall, blocking the walkway, and the crowds grew surlier by the minute. Callum was used to being busy, especially as they inched closer to cutting off alcohol sales, but the tone among the guests was unlike previous games. The Chiefs were losing, and not by a little—the Jaguars were crushing the home team. Disappointment hung thick in the air, resentment visible in the eyes of those in line.

Judging by the clenched jaw, the young brunette ordering nachos could be counted as one of the thousands pissed off at the team. She wore the typical devoted fan uniform: a Chiefs jersey, matching knit hat, Arrowhead earrings. She’d topped it off with red and yellow face paint, slightly smudged at this point. Probably from tears. He handed over her nachos and she walked away without a word.

“Have a nice day,” he sang after her before turning to the next grumpy customer and pasting on a smile.

“Two beers,” he said, his deep voice clipped, not making eye contact.

Of course. Alcohol. Third quarter was almost over and they would be turning off the taps any minute.

When he’d first started volunteering at the football games, Callum had sucked at serving draft beer. He’d been mortified to see guests step out of his line after watching him repeatedly filling the cups with more foam than liquid. By the second game, he’d found his footing, and by the fourth, he could pour like a master, with about an inch of foam at the top. He still spilled plenty of beer and went home smelling like a brewery, which made his two cats run from him, hissing as if he were the Antichrist.

He spent the next ten minutes serving beer to people, usually two per person, as if they had to stock up for the fourth quarter. A cool wind whipped through the walkway and he shivered. It was November, but the heat from the kitchen behind him and being in cramped quarters with five other cashiers and a runner all up front, had sweat dripping down his back. His short hair was matted to his skull and the baseball cap he wore made his scalp itch like crazy.

The supervisor of their concession stand came through hollering, “End of third quarter,” and Callum began unscrewing the taps. Some of those in line started cursing and Callum figured it was probably good they couldn’t buy anymore alcohol, anyway. Some of the loud ones were clearly drunk

Their stand would stay open until midway through the fourth quarter and continue selling hot dogs, brats, nachos—basic stadium food. Those that had been in line only for beer stepped away, leaving the lines much shorter—probably about a third of what they were minutes ago.

He was so glad it was almost time to go home. It wasn’t that he didn’t like volunteering. The program at Arrowhead Stadium was awesome. Local charities in Kansas City could sign up and go through the training through Aramark, then man a concession stand—more if you had enough people—and earn funds toward the charity you represented.

When his twin sister, Maddie, had goaded him into volunteering for the games, he’d balked. Working up to ten hours as a cashier and smelling like beer and hot dogs on his day off, not to mention doing it all for free, wasn’t on the top of his “To Do” list. But then she’d dragged him to the no-kill animal shelter and he’d caved after seeing the first kitten. He was a sucker for animals and she knew it. His sister worked there full-time, but since it was a nonprofit, they were dependent on grants and donations.

So he’d signed up to work all the home games. He’d had to get a food handler’s permit and a liquor license since cashiers served liquor. Most of the volunteers were the same people each game, with a few variants, so they’d worked out a good rhythm and things flowed fairly well. There were only four home games left in the season, but he’d already promised to volunteer again next year

Besides, he was a people person, so he actually enjoyed talking to the guests—most of the time. When the Chiefs were losing, people weren’t usually in the best mood. This was the first game where they’d been pummeled by the other team, so the fans were nearly despondent. The rest of the week, he worked at a bank as a loan officer. It was a decent job and he wasn’t bad at it, but he hoped to find something else that gave him more of a purpose in life.

Maddie was passionate about her work and he often found himself envious. While his sister didn’t make enough to live on her own—she shared a duplex with two other girls—she seemed so centered. Always at peace. He wanted that balance in his life.