Hello Quarterback (Hello #8)

2. Ford

2

FORD

Now that the press conference and a visit to the Griffen Industries’ suite was over, I went down to the locker room to shower up. I knew my family would be waiting for me. They’d come to watch the game today and would be leaving soon. But just as I was about to walk in through the heavy metal door, an older man with dyed black hair and a three-piece suit said, “Madigan, got a minute?”

I dipped my head to Trent Reynolds, the owner of the Dallas Diamonds. “Yes, sir.”

He nodded, satisfied at my greeting, and said, “Come here, son.”

I followed him down the hallway toward the office he kept on this level. It was full of Diamond gear, from a leather helmet signed by the first ever Diamonds team to a few jerseys of Hall of Famers who played for the Diamonds. He even had a diamond the size of my fist in a glass display case. It probably could have bought my childhood home and half the neighbors’ places.

“Good game today,” Trent said, sitting behind his desk and pulling out a cigar box from the top drawer.

“Thank you, sir.”

His fingers, just as thick as the smoke, worked methodically to get out the cigar and light it before pulling it to his lips and taking a puff. Thick gray smoke rolled from his nose and lips around the cigar. “Want one?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” I replied, watching him, wondering what this meeting was about. I’d played for the team several years now and had met with him personally only a handful of times.

“You’ve done a lot for this team,” Trent said around the smoke.

I dipped my head in acknowledgement. “This team is as much my family as the people I grew up with in Cottonwood Falls.”

He pulled the cigar from between his lips, holding it with his pointer and middle finger. “I’m glad you see it that way, because I have a favor I’d like you to do for me.”

I nodded slowly. You couldn’t exactly turn down a request from the team’s owner, even if he posed it as a “favor.”

“My daughter has taken a shine to you, and it would mean a lot if you’d take her out on a date without letting her know we had this particular conversation.”

An image of his daughter, Felicity, came to mind. I slammed a mask over my face so my initial reaction wouldn’t show.

Felicity was an up-and-coming model with a vocal fry, and every positive thing she said was followed by a “but.” I’d spent all of five minutes around her at team functions and that was more than enough.

A date with her sounded like torture, and that was saying something considering I subjected myself to ice baths on a daily basis. “Just one?” I asked.

“A handful. Why not see where it goes? Hell, you might hit it off and be my new son-in-law.” He chuckled heartily, then choked on his smoke and coughed for a minute.

I scratched the back of my neck. “Mr. Reynolds, I...”

Trent’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not seeing someone, are you?” he said.

I felt like I was on the field, judging the defense, eyeing the open players, trying to find a way out of the heavy defensive line coming in to take me out. Not sitting here in this cushy office on a hard chair after the time had run from the clock.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything to back me out of this corner, when he said, “Because if you aren’t seeing someone, then you’re rejecting my daughter for no good reason. She’s a beautiful girl, comes from a good family, a family that’s given quite a lot to you and your charities. I would hate to see that relationship sour.”

My stomach clenched. The Diamonds contributed generously to my charity, and the thought of them yanking funding just because I wouldn’t go on a date with his daughter put things into perspective.

“So unless you’re taken,” he continued, “I expect you to take my daughter out and behave like the gentleman the world thinks you are and continue to do so until she tires of your company.”

There was no arguing. So I nodded, stood to leave. Then he tapped his cigar against a crystal ashtray and said, “I believe your contract comes up for negotiations at the end of this season. Would hate for you to lose your spot so close to home.”

My jaw tightened. I didn’t take well to bullies. But typically, bullies were scared shitless and had no power once someone stood up to them. This bully held my life and all I’d worked for in his hands.

So I had a decision: I could either come up with a relationship that didn’t exist or let him win.

As my sandals swished over the concrete floor, echoed off the cinder block hallways, I had to wonder... Was dating his daughter worth it? I made sacrifices all the time—eating to a specific diet, waking early when it would be easier to sleep in, working my body until it protested with each step. Was this all that different?

I rounded the corner to the locker room, and my family started cheering.

They were already waiting for me. Usually I had time to shower before they met me here, but now I felt a mess. Especially as my dad stepped forward and wrapped me in a hug. His weatherworn face crinkled into a smile as he stepped back and said, “I’m so proud of you, son. For what you do on and off the field.”

His kind words hit my heart like a vice clamping shut. What if I couldn’t play football here anymore? What if my charity had to close down because I refused to have a relationship with the owner’s daughter?

The question had barely passed my mind before my four brothers, two of their wives, and their kids took turns telling me good job. Well, all except my seven-year-old niece, Emily, who had been my biggest constructive critic since I met her and her mom a couple years back.

I picked up her three-year-old brother, Jackson, holding him between me and Emily like a shield. “Can’t be too rough on me, Em. I’m holding a baby.”

“I’m a todd-ah-yer,” Jackson protested.

Everyone laughed while Emily launched into her usual post-game recap. “Coach Hinkle needs to have you throwing more,” she said, wise beyond her years. “Why’s he having you run this early in the season? We don’t want you getting injured. That would be a catastrophe! Especially before playoffs.” She gesticulated wildly, making the purple bow in her hair wobble.

Jackson squirmed, and I set him down on the ground. His shoes lit up as he went back to his mom. As she picked him up, she gave me an apologetic look. But I shook my head at her. “I’m one of the biggest QBs in the league,” I said. “I can take it.”

Emily tilted her head. “You’re two inches taller than average and twenty pounds heavier. Not that big of a difference.”

I held my hand over my chest, pretended to be wounded while all four of my brothers guffawed at her comment.

For the first time, Emily looked a little abashed. “What? It’s true.”

“You’re right about the throwing, Em. I said the same thing to Coach after the game.”

She smiled proudly in response.

Then I said to everyone, “Thanks for coming, guys. Means a lot you could be here.”

My oldest brother gave me a quick hug. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

My other brothers nodded in agreement.

A tight spot formed in my throat, and I swallowed it down. “See you all next weekend for the game?”

Everyone said they’d be back, except for my youngest brother, who had to prep for a college exam early the next day.

We said a quick goodbye and I went to the locker room, my chest feeling heavy as I shed my clothes, grabbed a towel, and went to shower. I walked past my teammates, stepped under the stream of hot water, and closed my eyes just before the water covered my skin, soothing my bruised and tired body.

But I couldn’t relax. Not with this problem standing before me.

I didn’t want to date Felicity. Didn’t want to let the bully win. There had to be a solution...

And then in my mind’s eye, I saw her . Not Felicity.

Mia, smiling up at me with big blue eyes, soft blond hair framing her pale face, and the way her lips curled around her words as she thanked me just for showing up.

Could she be the answer?

I shook my head. She was the CEO of a billion-dollar corporation. She had better things to do than fake date a football player.