Quarterback Keeper (Fall Lake Ballers #1)

Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

KYLIAN

I met the car Dad had sent at a side door of the stadium, an unfortunate result of answering the call from him a few days ago. The driver made a quick stop at the condo, where I changed into a suit and tie, then got back in the vehicle and was driven to the off-camera fundraiser for Dad’s political campaign.

That was how Dad billed it, but I didn’t believe him for one second. He pressured me until we’d struck a deal on the phone that he would pay for Mom’s following two treatments so long as I showed up at his fundraiser event. I was his show pony so the world could see Danbury Wilder as a family man who’d raised a talented son with NFL potential. It was a way to get his name circulating in the media more and remind people of his relevance in the upcoming elections.

When I exited the car in front of the venue, several reporters converged as far as the red velvet ropes allowed, shouting questions.

“Kylian, do you support your father in the upcoming election?”

“What do you think your chances are with the draft? Do you hope to stay local?”

“Who was the girl you were photographed with over the weekend?”

I smiled, my teeth clenched so hard I worried they would crack, and I didn’t answer a single question shouted my way, no matter how much I wanted to reply to that last one. A few people ahead of me slowed my path to the door and my escape from the vultures.

That was when I saw him—my father—at the entrance with several other older men accompanied by a few ladies dripping with diamonds. It was his chance to show me off and impress his cronies, particularly Harland Maxwell Honeycutt, the older, portly man puffing on a cigar and standing to Dad’s right.

A younger woman broke free from their group and hurried toward me. I’d never met her, but she seemed to know me. The reporters zeroed in on her, tracking her every move.

Her bright-red lips curved into a wide, somewhat strained smile, and she wore black-framed trendy glasses that made her look like a sexy librarian. Her golden-blond hair had been twisted into some fancy updo, and her gold dress molded to her as she wove through the guests before stopping at my side. “Kylian, I’ve been waiting for you.”

She grabbed my tie and pulled with shocking strength, getting me to bend more out of surprise than anything. Soft red lips planted themselves on mine, and her hand gripped the back of my neck as she pressed her body against me. Goddammit. My hands automatically went to her hips, and as my senses returned, I broke the kiss, moving her back to put some space between us. I fought the need to shove her away while the reporters’ energy went up a notch.

Forced laughter spilled from her as she slipped her arm in mine and tugged. “Come on. Daddy has been waiting to talk to you.” She flattened a hand on my chest. “But I wanted a moment alone with you first.”

Cameras flashed around us, capturing the setup I knew the situation to be. Her daddy had to be none other than the deep-pocketed Honeycutt, which made her his daughter and the one my father wanted me to date and then marry—Melanie Honeycutt.

I bent near her ear so only she could hear. “I know what game you’re playing, and trust me, nothing will come of it.”

“We’ll see about that.” She matched my tone, determination bright in her deep-brown eyes heavily framed by fake eyelashes. She slipped her arm possessively around mine and clung like the vulture I guessed her to be.

“I don’t have anything to offer you,” I said. “I don’t know what our fathers have promised, but you’re better off with an up-and-coming hedge-fund millionaire.”

“Oh, darling.” She leaned against my arm, more laughter tinkling into the night and drawing notice from the press. “I’ve dated them and have no interest. But the wife of an NFL quarterback who has a bright future like you do? Sign me up.”

“Nothing is guaranteed in life.” We were on the stairs, farther from the press but closing in on my snake of a father and hers.

“I’m a woman who knows what she wants. And athletes like you have stamina and staying power. You’ll make history, and I’ll be right beside you.”

Ambitious. I knew her type. Jersey chasers were a dime a dozen, but wealthy ones were dangerous. Melanie Honeycutt was a woman with the right name who would agree to the perfect number of children and the house on the correct street and would soccer-mom her way into the PTA Hall of Fame. She was ideal for the right guy or athlete, but that wasn’t me. I’d grown up with my dad using us. I didn’t want that in my wife.

I got the irony in that statement. It didn’t matter. Deep down, I sensed Gia wasn’t a snake.

“There’s my superstar.” Dad’s smile stretched his face as he clapped me on the back.

“Kylian, so glad you could make it.” Cigar smoke leaked behind Harland’s slightly yellowed teeth, curling past his white mustache.

I shook his extended hand. “Mr. Honeycutt.”

The rest of the men introduced themselves and their wives as we headed inside and toward the area where tables were set up. I knew the drill, since I’d been forced to attend a few of these events in the past while Dad was making his debut in politics.

Soft music played in the background from the string quartet behind a podium where speeches would be made. Waiters and waitresses dressed in black-and-white formal wear wove through the guests, carrying trays of champagne. Melanie helped herself to one, her talons still firmly on my bicep.

I escorted her to the table our group circled and held out a chair for her. With a bright smile that assumed victory, she sat. After I scooted her chair in, I escaped, making my way through the crowd and mingling. How that would help my father become the next Illinois senator was beyond me, but I had no choice.

After an hour and before dinner, I found Dad and indicated for him to follow me to a quiet corner of the room. I tapped my phone’s ride-share app then shoved the device in my pocket and studied him as he approached. We shared the same athletic build and jawline, but I had two inches on him. Gray peppered his dark-brown hair, giving him a distinguished air.

“Melanie is wonderful, isn’t she? The perfect match and the right bloodline.”

I snorted at his audacity to think such bullshit. “As opposed to ours? Mom’s family had more money than yours. What’s the point here, Dad?”

“The point, son”—Dad’s eyes hardened, and the muscle on his jaw ticked like mine did when I was frustrated—“is that she would make an advantageous wife.”

“Melanie isn’t the kind of woman who needs to be set up. She’s not unfortunate looking and can hold a conversation. But she’s not for me.” I was done with the charade. “I did what you demanded. Showed up, mingled, and talked to as many people as possible. I trust you’ll hold up your end of the bargain and pay for Mom’s next two treatments.”

“I told you I needed you to schmooze Honeycutt. I’m sure you don’t want your poor, sick mother living on the street.”

“That would make a fantastic headline, Dad. ‘Senatorial candidate Danbury Wilder threatens his son to cooperate or he’ll toss his sick ex-wife out of her apartment.’ Bet that would win you tons of points in the polls.”

“Don’t you threaten me, son.”

“That was your game plan tonight, not mine. I did what you said. Don’t mess with Mom. Make those payments, and I’ll keep my mouth shut.” My phone buzzed, indicating my ride had arrived. “Good night.”

I turned and left, ignoring the camera flash as I hurried down the stairs to the waiting car.

Inside the vehicle, I sat back, relaxed, and closed my eyes. Melanie Honeycutt had been all over me, and the reporters had witnessed the scene she’d orchestrated. Clearly, the information I’d slipped to the college’s blogger hadn’t circulated enough, and it wasn’t the time for me to make a public announcement. If I’d done that at the fundraiser, Dad would’ve made Mom suffer.

What a train wreck. And Gia… I could imagine what the morning’s headline would be. I needed to get to her before she read it online.

Now that the Honeycutts were sinking their claws into me in exchange for backing my father’s campaign, it’d become more apparent that I had to keep Mom from getting hurt. I just needed a bit of leverage.