Finally, after ruminating on my question for a minute or so, he started out cautiously, “I’m not sure if I want you to print this… Don’t get me wrong, I do trust you. That’s why I gave you exclusive rights to interview me. I would never have done that if I didn’t think you had my best interests at heart. But I--I don’t know if I want my public perception to be altered by this.”
“I’ll help you decide how I should frame the answer. If at all,” I assured him. He gave me an entirely trusting look of relief. It warmed my heart to see him look at me that way. I felt my heart skip a beat.
“Alright. Well, to be perfectly honest, most of what I do, I do for my mom. I already told you a little bit about my family situation, but the thing is-- my mother was so badly injured in the accident that I have to take care of her now,” he said, sighing as though it were almost a release to talk about it. Sometimes with this job I felt almost more like a therapist than a reporter, which I didn’t mind at all. I loved watching my subjects finally open up to me. It was more rewarding than any of the money or attention I could ever garner from my work.
I leaned forward slightly, giving him my most attentive gaze, urging him with my eyes to continue. He chewed his lip for moment, hesitating, and then went on. “She--she requires ‘round the clock care and a lot of my money funnels back into making sure she gets to live the most comfortable and fulfilling lifestyle she can. It’s the least I can do after how much she’s supported me and my brother over the years. She’s the rock of our family, Dani. She’s what keeps me going. I only wish I could spend more time with her.”
He sounded as though he had a lump in his throat, like he was getting choked up talking about his mother. I felt my heart swell about three sizes instantly. I was continually amazed by how much of a sweetheart this guy was, especially in contrast to the tough-guy machismo he usually displayed in the public eye. Kieran was so much sweeter, kinder, and more down-to-earth than anyone really knew, and I was determined to show the world just how great he was. After all, wouldn’t it be better for young kids to have a role model who was a truly good guy, rather than idolizing some big-talking douche instead?
“Your mom sounds like an amazing woman. And she’s lucky to have you,” I remarked genuinely. Around the clock care was expensive. And stressful. When I was younger, my grandfather had to put into a nursing home (which was only slightly cheaper) because my parents couldn’t afford to pay for all his various nurses and caretakers anymore. It was horrible, having to ship him off like that, but we just simply couldn’t pay for what he needed. So I knew just how much it took out to look after someone who needed so much assistance.
“No,” Kieran said, shaking his head. “It’s me who’s lucky. I can’t imagine my life without her. I know I never would’ve made it this far without my mom cheering me on and pushing me to always be better and stronger. And she never lets me forget where I came from, who I really am. She won’t let the fame and money go to my head, if she has any say in it.”
He smiled fondly.
“So, you said she makes sure you remember where you came from. Where is that? Can you elaborate on what that means?” I push him, tapping my pen on the side of my notebook in a way I always did when I got excited about an interview, when I felt like we were really getting somewhere. But Kieran just laughed.
“You know what? I think we’ve gone far enough into my mushy-gushy feelings for one day. How about we leave that last question for next time?” he suggested, and my heart fluttered at the thought of there being a next time. I was really enjoying getting to spend time with him, both on a professional level and in a more… personal capacity. He was witty, passionate, and surprisingly gentle. I loved getting to peel away his layers of bravado to reveal the sensitive, genuine soul underneath.
And I couldn’t deny that I was beginning to feel something a little more than just professional synergy with him. Of course, despite all his silly flirtations, I knew there was no chance he could really feel anything more for me. That simply would not happen. Not to me. I wasn’t the kind of girl who could land a hot football player with a heart of gold. I was still the same girl who had to be picked up early from school because of the relentless bullying that broke my spirit and made me give up on finding friendship, much less love. It was simple: Kieran was a winner and I was a loser. He was a jock and I was a nerd. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how drastically I’d appeared to change over the years, deep down those truths would always remain.
Still, I could ride this playful little train for a little while longer, couldn’t I?
“Sure. Next time. But don’t think for a second I won’t remember the question and ask it again next time!” I teased him, standing up and holding my notebook to my chest. He rolled his eyes and smiled good-naturedly.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I have no doubt you’ll come up with a thousand more ways to make me sound like an over-emotional mama’s boy by then, too,” he remarked with a laugh.
“I’ll be sure to write that one down,” I said, pretending to write in my notes. “Over… emotional… mama’s… boy. Got it.”
“Hey!” he laughed, nudging my shoulder with one huge but gentle fist. “So, when will be the next time? You still haven’t let me take you to any of those awesome restaurants I told you about. You know Vegas has more than just hole-in-the-wall hipster coffee shops, right?”
I bit my lip, pondering how to answer his question. On the one hand, it seemed less than professional to go to a restaurant with him, even under the pretense of a casual interview. Granted, I had been to restaurants with other interview subjects before, but nobody quite like Kieran. Those had been stuffy older guys who just wanted to reminisce about their glory days and talk about money and football politics. I had a feeling a dinner date with Kieran would feel quite different.
And then there was the matter of my heart.
It urged me in two different directions. In one direction lay the potential for a very fun and maybe flirty evening with a ridiculously handsome guy who, for some reason, at least feigned showing some mild interest in me. And in the other direction loomed the possibility of getting my heart shattered and stomped on. Just like what happened years and years ago.
I swallowed hard, gulping back the mounting insecurities that threatened to smother me at every turn. I couldn’t let my old fears from my past dictate what happened in my future. If I did, then I would never get anywhere. I would always remain the same scared, lonely little girl I used to be. My bullies would win.
It was time for me to win, for once. I would take the risk. I had to.
“Alright,” I agreed, nodding. “We’ll do it. I’ll go with you. So, where are we going?”
Kieran made a victorious fist and grinned. He looked like a giant goofball and I adored him for it. I couldn’t help but giggle. He swatted at me playfully for laughing at him, even as he laughed, too. “Don’t know yet. Let me review my options and get back to you. I’ll let you know before tonight, though.”
“Why tonight?” I asked.
“Because that’s when our next interview is,” he said with a wink.
“Well, I might need more time to come up with questions--”
“Nope. Tonight. That’s that,” he said, waving his hand with finality, as though sealing the date with some magical flourish. I grinned and shook my head in mock annoyance.
“Fine. You got it,” I relented. “Nothing too fancy, okay? Remember I’m just a lowly cub reporter. I don’t make as much as you do.”
“Why should that matter? I’ll be paying, obviously,” Kieran said, giving me a dubious look, as though I’d just said the craziest thing he’d ever heard.
“Well, that’s not really how it works. If you pay then it’s more like a… like a…”
“A date?” he suggested, smirking down at me smugly. I could feel my whole body turning pink.
Flustered, I struggled to find any string of words that would form a coherent statement, to no avail. I simply st
ared at him blankly, my mouth hanging open.
Kieran burst out laughing at my stunned expression. “Yep. It’s a date. And we’ll talk about whatever sentimental personal crap you want, as long as you let me pay the tab. Besides, I might have a few questions for you of my own,” he said mysteriously. Then he immediately changed the subject, asking in a bright, chipper tone, “You want me to walk you out?”
I shook my head vigorously. I needed to get away from him, fast. Before I did or said something truly stupid and embarrassing. He was way too slick and charming for me to even comprehend and I needed to clear my head before facing him again tonight. Being a reporter meant that I had cultivated a pretty strong ability to make conversation even under the most awkward circumstances, but there was just something about Kieran (possibly his biceps) that got my tongue all twisted and my heart a-flutter.
“No, no. I got it. Th-thank you,” I stammered, furiously pushing my hair back behind my ear even though it was already securely tucked back there.
“Okay. Well, I’m gonna stay and run a few more laps for a cool down. I’ll text you the details about our totally professional interview date. See you tonight,” he quipped with a broad grin and a wink. He turned and jogged back down the hallway out onto the field, leaving me staring after him in a state of mild shock.
Kieran was turning my whole world upside down.
Still feeling dizzy and giddy from our encounter, I walked out of the building in a daze and headed into the parking garage. But as I stepped off the elevator I heard Kieran’s name being whispered in a loud hiss. I turned to look toward the noise, instinctively drawn to the sound of his name. My journalist senses were already tingling and I ducked behind a column to eavesdrop.
I peeked around to see a man and woman in gaudy black clothing more suited for a club scene than a football stadium standing over by a sleek, silver Mercedes. The man was leaning on the car, his arms folded over his chest. There was a smarmy grin on his overly-tanned face, his wrinkled cheeks pulling back in a leathery grimace. The woman was slightly younger and very voluptuous, with bleach-blonde hair piled back in an elaborate high ponytail twist. She had the distinctive look of someone who was once blindingly beautiful, still clinging to the remnants of her former beauty. She was still an attractive woman by most standards, but there was a greedy, mischievous smirk on her face.
“I’ve drawn up a contract that’ll really knock your socks off, Janet,” said the man.
She looked at him a little dubiously, eyeing him with slight suspicion. But the closeness of their positions indicated to me that they were probably more than professional contacts. The woman laid a perfectly manicured hand on the guy’s arm. Oh yeah. They definitely had to be sleeping together.
“Are you sure he won’t be able to read between the lines, Paul?” the woman called Janet asked in a sickly-sweet Southern drawl, tilting her head to one side.
“Oh, god no. Kieran’s just a meathead. He won’t know to read the fine print. Plus, he trusts us implicitly,” the man named Paul responded, waving his hand dismissively. I felt my stomach churn to hear them talk about Kieran this way. Like was some moron. Just a pawn.
“Don’t you feel even a little bit guilty, robbin’ the poor guy of his money?” Janet asked, pursing her lips. But her tone was less accusatory and more playful. It made me sick.
“Guilty? Babe, I forgot what guilt felt like a long, long time ago. In this game you gotta learn to look out for yourself. If he’s too stupid to watch his own ass, that’s on him, not us,” Paul said with a cruel laugh.
“You’re a bad man, you know that?” the woman crooned, leaning in to kiss him. The two of them got into the Mercedes and drove off, leaving me standing stock-still in the parking garage, frozen with tortured emotions. Would it be a conflict of interest to warn Kieran? After all, this was definitely none of my business. But then again… those two did not seem to have his best interests at heart. At all.
Finally, I couldn’t delay any longer. I had to warn him. Trembling, I pulled out my phone and called his direct personal number. After a few rings, Kieran picked up, to my surprise. I had been planning to leave him a message since he was probably running laps.
He answered, sounding slightly out of breath, “Hey, I told you I’d get you the details for tonight when I was done running laps-- you’re one impatient date!”
I took a deep breath and started rambling, “Mr. Michaels-- Kieran-- there’s something I need to tell you. I just overheard a weird conversation about you and I’m worried they might be planning to screw you over with some bogus contract or something and I know it’s none of my business but I just feel like I have to warn you--”
“Whoa, whoa. Wait. Hold on, Dani. What’s going on?” he interrupted, sounding confused. “You heard some people talking about me? That happens a lot when you’re in the public eye, it’s no big deal.”
“No, these people are different. I think you know them. And they-- they sounded like they were working against you. It was a blonde woman and some sleazy-looking guy with a bad fake tan,” I explained quickly. There was a long pause.
“That sounds like Janet Walker and Paul Franklin. She’s the team manager and he’s the owner,” Kieran replied, his tone more serious now. “And you think they were saying… bad stuff about me?”
“Y-Yes. That’s what it sounded like. I know I’m overstepping boundaries here but I just couldn’t pretend like I didn’t overhear it. I’m sorry,” I said, walking briskly over to my own car. I rarely drove it these days, preferring to just take public transportation. I only really used the old clunker when I needed to go somewhere outside my usual living radius, like the stadium.
“No, you’re good. Don’t worry. And I’m sure it probably sounded a lot worse than it was. I trust those two. They’ve never steered me wrong before,” Kieran said, but there was a hint of suspicion in his voice, all the same.
“I just don’t want anyone to hurt you,” I admitted flatly.
“I know. Thank you for looking out for me. Anyway, I guess it’s a good thing we have plans tonight. We’ll talk about it at dinner. I decided on a restaurant, by the way. I’ll text you the details. Drive safe and I’ll see you later,” he said.
“Thanks. See you,” I replied, then hung up. I drove out into the mid-afternoon sunshine, pondering how big a mess I was getting myself into.
CHAPTER 6 - KIERAN
Going to the team manager’s office was an unpleasant chore on the best of days. Even as I pulled up in the parking lot, though, I knew this was going to be the worst of days, and I was already bracing myself for what was about to come.
Janet Walker was a complicated woman. I didn’t pay much attention to the politics of sports administration, usually. I was a man of action, and my place was on the football field doing what I did best--none of the nuts and bolts of what went on behind the scenes were my concern, and all of us had always relied on our managers to handle that, unless there was a dispute.
And this was a dispute, to say the least, which put me in hot water, because I’d never had to deal with Janet before. At least, not under these circumstances.
I was always the type to look for the best in people. I was always taught to have full confidence in someone until they gave me a reason to betray that trust, and it had gotten me a pretty good ways in life thus far. But the more I thought about everything Danielle and I talked about last night, the stranger it sounded to me. Mom always had a bad impression of Paul and Janet, and I couldn’t blame her for that, because she was already worrying about me in my day-to-day career, so it would be natural for her to vent those frustrations onto my administrators. Maybe her impressions had been right all this time, though. In any case, talking to Janet today would settle that one way or another.
Janet was one of the first female managers in local football. The casual misogyny of the culture around her job must have taken its toll on her over the years, because she was both a fierce manager and an aggressive negotiator. But none of
those things made her any less tricky to talk to than any other decent manager. Most, if not all, of everything that made her hard to work with came straight from Paul Franklin, the team’s owner.
But that was a can of worms I didn’t want to spend too much dwelling on. I was here on a very simple mission that simply had to be taken care of personally--and in person.
I stepped into the office and gave the receptionist a nod as she peered at me over her glasses. “Hey, Lacy. Janet around?”
“Mm, let me see if she has a moment,” the young woman said, peering at me uncertainly. She wasn’t the type to appreciate unannounced meetings, but these were special circumstances. She picked up the phone and paged Janet, and after a short exchange, she nodded at me, albeit with some reluctance. “Go on in,” she said, and I gave her a knowing nod.
Game On (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) Page 5