Love on the Highlight Reel (Connecticut Kings Book 2) (37 page)

“What?!” I pulled my face into a scowl as I processed what he’d said.

“A month now.”

“When?!”

Trent looked away, unable to hold my gaze, probably feeling guilty. “In between the Saints and Raiders games?”

“You were gonna tell me…?”

“At the end of the season,” he said, turning to face me again. “When I was gonna ask you to be in my wedding. I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t focused… my head wasn’t in this. I still need to prove that to you.”

I scoffed. This
focus
shit was overrated.

“Yeah, I know some shit about not being focused, but damn. You got married already, dawg.”

“For me and lady. My next wedding’ll be for everybody else.”

I shook my head. “That’s why she ain’t trip over that stunt you pulled downstairs with Meme?” I asked, referring to the other woman he’d pulled into his
Shoot ‘Em Up
show last night. “Or does Jade know MeMe swings for the other team?”

“I hope it’s the first reason. Jade’s come a long way with her… possessiveness.”

I laughed. “Remember when she came to San Fran for a few days in September, and wilded out on that chick who tried to touch your ass in the grocery store? Yo, Jade really swung on ol’ girl.”

Trent rolled his eyes, obviously remembering exactly what the fuck I was talking about as he scratched the back of his head.

“Nah,” I said, cooling my teasing to dap my boy. “I’m happy for you. Jade is wild and all, but she really is a good look for you. Nicki said the same thing.”

“What
is
up with Cole, nigga?” he asked, deflecting the attention I was putting on him. “Y’all aint look so cozy tonight. You fuckin’ up already?”

I sighed. “Yeah, actually. I said some shit I shouldn’t have after that last game, right before playoffs. It hasn’t been right since then, but… I think we’ll be okay.
Hope
we’ll be okay.”

Trent grinned. “Look at you, being all sentimental and shit. I never would’ve thought somebody would have your nose open like this.”

I shrugged, then returned his grin. “I don’t know man… I love that girl.”

“Love?!”

“Yeah,” I exhaled. “Not a doubt in my mind.”

“A’ight, so what you gonna do about it?”

I let out a dry laugh. “That’s an excellent fucking question, bruh. Wish I had an answer. Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one running off, getting married and shit.”

“Aye, my path was already determined. I can’t help you there. Unless you want to follow – buy a ring—”

Ha. Nicki would probably run for the hills.

“Yeah, you can kill that shit. We’re definitely not there. She’s barely still fucking with me right now.”

“Aiight,” Trent nodded, like he understood. “Well… maybe you’ve gotta do something big then. Get her attention.”

I tipped my head to the side. “Like what?”

“Like winning the Super Bowl for her team.”

“Ha!” I raised my hand to slap five with him, following it with an embrace. “That’s what we gon’ do then, my nigga.”

Through the tie breaker and playoffs, I’d played with a singular focus.

Make it worth it
.

If I’d done some permanent damage to the bond Nicki and I had, I damn sure wasn’t going to
not
make it to the Super Bowl. Not that making it there was “worth” hurting Nicki, but I could at least make her look good, if I was going to be fucking up.

I couldn’t think of what could make the liaison between the players and management, a title that billed itself on player success, look better than being as successful as I possibly could.

I was definitely up to that challenge.

Twenty-two

“Who
isn’t
excited about Super Bowl Sunday?” I asked, in response to the question my father leveled at me from the door to my office.

To answer that question honestly, I would have to stand up and wave my hand, probably jump up and down. Because…
me.
I
wasn’t excited.

More like gut-wrenchingly stressed.

It felt like there was a literal ton riding on the results of this game, and I had no idea what was going to happen. I wasn’t buying into any fairytales – there was a very good chance we’d lose this game. That loss, as far as I could tell, meant losing Jordan.

And frankly, I wasn’t sure our relationship would survive him not being on the Kings.

My father would undoubtedly be angry, and with good reason. He’d protected and supported Jordan, kept him on the roster through what could have been a season-ending shoulder injury last year, and pumped funds into his recovery and development.  And beyond that, he
cared
for Jordan. Not quite like a son, but damn near.

Jordan leaving would
hurt
him.

And… it would hurt
me.

Not just professionally, but personally.

And it wasn’t like
winning
the Super Bowl would be easy either.

There was still so much to contend with, no matter the result, that just the thought of Sunday made me queasy. But I put a smile on my face anyway, because I was sitting behind my desk, as ADPS. My outlook about this was
supposed
to be sunny.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” my father said, closing the door behind him as he invited himself in. My stomach roiled as he sat down opposite me at the desk, his tall, suited figure looking rather imposing in my small office.

I put down the pen I’d been using to make nervous doodles that I’d quickly hidden at his appearance, and folded my hands together on top of the desk. “I’m listening.”

“Tyler Sanchez and Jordan Johnson. Tell me where we are on their contracts.”

I swallowed hard. “Well, not very far. They aren’t free agents yet, so we can’t formally approach, but both of their agents know we’re very interested in keeping them on this team.”

“That’s fine for Sanchez. He’s new. What are we doing about Johnson?”

“Umm… well, we have a number down, that we are prepared to give, to keep him. I told you before that he had expressed some dissatisfaction with the team, and wasn’t interested in remaining if they didn’t win the championship this year. We’re trying to prepare for that.”

Eli shook his head. “Money isn’t going to move him. Have you
talked
to him?”

“Of course. I mean… I’ve tried. But he only wants to discuss contract through his agent.”

“Unless he’s telling you he wants to leave the team.”

I sighed. “Precisely.”

Eli sat back in his seat, surveying me with a gaze that made me feel like I was in trouble.

“What is it?” I asked finally, crossing my arms.

“I’m just surprised at you, is all. Listening to you, I would think that
you
weren’t in charge. That you would allow a player to
demand
that he only speak about his contract through his agent… you’re a lawyer, Nicole. You know the lines you can and can’t cross. Simply
speaking
about the contract isn’t a violation, and yet… you allowed that line to be drawn in the sand. It’s just interesting, is all.”

I ran my tongue over my suddenly dry lips, wetting them. “Interesting?”

“Yes. That
this
player. This particular player, has pulled you out of character.”

“What are you saying, daddy?”

He smiled. “I’m saying that I wonder if your romantic feelings for Jordan Johnson are keeping you from doing your job?”

I blinked. “What part of my job haven’t I done?”

“You haven’t gotten a verbal, tentative yes to a new contract. I stopped and talked to your assistant on the way in. I know Sanchez gave you an answer yesterday.”

“She’s fired.”

Eli laughed, sitting up in his chair to lean in closer to me. “She
is
rather susceptible to a little charm. But then, apparently so are you. Mr. Johnson came in with that smile and dimples women seem to so love, and your personal history, and charmed you into not pushing about his contract.”

“You seem
very
sure that’s how it went,” I mused, propping my chin in my hand.

He shrugged. “Maybe the “charmed” part is off base… you’re too focused for that. But the pull of love gained, love lost… I don’t know many who wouldn’t be vulnerable to that. Am I right or wrong?”

Again, I swallowed, trying to choke back the tears of… embarrassment, maybe?... that were building in my eyes. Suddenly, I was exhausted. Being separated from Jordan, the stress about this game, the humiliation – I knew he wasn’t
trying
to, but still – of my father perfectly pinpointing one of my flaws… I was just damned
tired.

“You’re right,” I said, clearing my throat to keep my voice from cracking. “Kind of. I’ve been hesitant to discuss Jordan’s contract with him, because I’m concerned about a conflict of interest.”

Eli raised an eyebrow. “Conflict of interest? You assured me that working with your college boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.”

“But I didn’t
want
to. There’s a difference.”

“There absolutely is,” Eli agreed. “I put him on
your
roster precisely because you didn’t want him, because Richardsons don’t back down from a challenge.”

I bit down hard on my lip, trying to keep from rolling my eyes. “Yes. I assumed so.”

“So you’re telling me now, two days before this season is over, that you’re no longer up to that challenge?”

I shook my head. “No. I wouldn’t quite say that.”

“So what
would
you say, Nicole?”

For several seconds, I couldn’t make myself speak. The desire to sob burned in my throat, and tears glossed my eyes, but I forced both to remain in submission. I took a deep breath.

“Jordan and I have been seeing each other for the past two months. Or so. The past two or so months.”

Eli’s eyes narrowed. “
Two or so months
? And I’m just hearing about it?”

I said nothing. I was waiting on his reaction to finish.

“I mean, I suspected something would happen, but this is… so New Orleans…?”

My eyelids fluttered shut, but I snapped them back open. “New Orleans is about when it started.”

“
That’s why he thought I was warning him to stay away from you,
” my father growled, talking more to himself than me as he clenched the delicate arms of my guest chair. “I praised him for being able to work with you, and he…”

“Wasn’t doing anything that wasn’t…
welcomed,
” I said, thinking of the relief I’d felt to have everything out in the open, even as hard as it had been. “I know that hearing it is a shock, but understand that this isn’t to be blamed on
him
.”

Eli gave me a dry chuckle. “Oh, I blame both of you. Have you even
considered
how this looks?!”

“Why do you think
you’re
just now finding out?” I snapped, a little harder than I intended too. “
How it looks
is all I’ve been thinking about.”

“But you did it anyway!”

“Because I
love
him
!”

“Enough to forfeit your job?”

The room went very,
very
still. My father was looking right at me, no anger or malice in his eyes, but he was very,
very
serious. Once again, I forbid those tears from falling as I met his gaze.

“I hoped it wouldn’t come to that,” I said, softly, without any of the power I’d practiced when I rehearsed this inevitable conversation in my head. I sounded
weak
, and I hated myself for it in that moment, but I kept talking anyway. “Nate, or one of the other ADPSs could handle Jordan’s contract. Nate and I could switch, send Jordan to his roster. Or I could switch out, work with a defensive roster next season. I could seek approval from a higher-up when decisions were made regarding Jordan. There are options that don’t involve me losing the job that I am
very
good at. I planned to tell you about us during the offseason, because that part of the year is ideal for those types of changes.  But, you asked now… so here we are.”

Eli took a long, deep breath, then fixed me with that same admonishing gaze from before. For several moments, he didn’t speak, but then he stood, over my desk.

“Nicole,” he started, and I braced myself to be verbally shredded. “From the time I realized I would have to raise you on my own, I was committed to not allowing you to end up some spoiled, vapid, gullible woman, like many of the ones who chased me and my peers. Now, that may not be politically correct, but oh well. I didn’t want that for my daughter, and your mother wouldn’t have either. As much as I could, I treated you and your brother the same. Pushed you, sometimes against each other. Motivated you. Did my best to mold you into a woman of substance. One who commanded respect not just
in spite of
being a woman. But
because
you are one. Because even with your black womanhood getting counted against you, I wanted people to look at you and see someone to aspire to. Look at what this
black woman
has done. And now… here you are…”

I’ve completely disappointed him, and I’m about to die. My heart is literally about to split in half, and crawl out of my chest.

“You’re well on your way, and I couldn’t be more proud of that.”

“W-wait…
what
?” I asked, sniffling through the tears I’d stopped trying to hold back, somewhere around the point I realized my father was telling me I was everything he didn’t want me to be.

Or at least…
I thought
that’s what he was saying…

“Nobody is getting fired,” he said, pushing his hands into the pockets of his tailored slacks. “Your job performance at what was proven to be an incredibly valuable role has been exceptional. The coaches say that you’ve been an excellent resource in motivating your players, and your players say you’re invaluable. Tough, but fair – exactly how your daddy taught you,” he smiled. “Hell, your brother was worried about you, as the only female ADPS, and even he’s had nothing but good things to say about you behind your back. You may be new here in an official capacity, but your presence is very well known. And
very
respected.”

I sniffed a little harder, snatching a handful of Kleenex from the box on my desk. “What are you saying, daddy?”

“I’m saying that you didn’t have to keep your little boyfriend a secret. Especially when my wife giggles and runs off every time I mention yours or Jordan’s name, and your brother changes the subject a little too quickly when I mention you or JJ to him. Did I really have to be the last to hear it from
you
?”

I gasped. “So you already knew?”

A smile spread over his face. “I suspected there was a reason you were in such a happy mood, and a reason he was too. Not to mention your little play jewelry, that you don’t keep as well tucked away as you think. He may be #18 for the Kings, but I remember when he was #88. But you know… your daddy always has loved a good second chance story.”

My hands went to my necklace as he chuckled, and I tucked it under the neck of my blouse. “What happens from here?”

“We can figure that out
after
the Super Bowl. It’s Friday afternoon. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for dinner or something? Certainly this young man can court you properly, even if it
is
the second time around.”