by B. B. Hamel
He laughs, shaking his head. “Hell, no. I get turned down all the time. I mean, look at me.”
I glance up, grinning. Sean is actually pretty good looking, but he is a redhead, and not the mild type. Flaming, bright red hair, pale skin, blue eyes. The classic ginger.
“I see your point.”
“I’m just saying, it’s worse if you go and don’t mean it than just telling him the truth. He can take it. He’s a big boy.”
“You really think I should say something?”
“Absolutely. Be honest with the guy. There’s no way he’d fire you.” He grins at me. “Plus, I’ll protect you.”
I glance away from him for a second. I’m not sure I need his protection… if I have Cole’s.
“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“I know I am.”
I finish wrapping his ankle, cutting off the tape and setting it in place. “Ice, elevation, stay off it. We’ll check tomorrow on how it feels, and if it’s still bad, we’ll do some imaging. Okay?”
“Okay,” he says.
“And seriously, don’t go nuts tonight. Or if you do, stay off your feet. Lap dances only.”
He grins. “Roger that.”
“You’re good to go.”
He hops up, putting weight on his right ankle instead of the wrapped left one. “And hey, seriously, Leah. Tell him the truth.”
“I’m going to.”
“I know shit sucks for women sometimes in the workplace. I hope it goes okay.”
“Thanks, Sean.”
He nods at me and leaves, hobbling slightly from the wrapped ankle.
I sigh and lean against the table. I can’t help but smile a little bit.
Sean means well, and I think he’s actually right. The guy comes off as a big jock jerk asshole, but he’s surprisingly kind. That bit about women having it hard?
If only more men thought that way instead of worrying about themselves.
I sigh and leave the room. I have some confidence right now, a little momentum, and Atlas is probably in a good mood. I mean, his team just beat the Patriots.
Now is as good a time as any to break the news to him. Maybe I’m being an ass by putting a damper on his victory but I don’t have time to waste.
I hurry out into the hall and the sounds of celebrating come drifting toward me. I head in the locker room’s direction, following behind the hobbling Sean as the noise gets louder.
The players, surrounded by coaches and staff and media, are celebrating with champagne like they won the Super Bowl. Sean wades into the melee, but sits down on a bench right away, giving me a wink.
I grin back at him and scan the room. I spot Atlas standing over in a corner, watching the raucous display with a little smile on his face.
I head in his direction. I know Cole’s in here somewhere, or maybe he’s doing a press conference. I don’t look around for him. I don’t want to lose my nerve.
Atlas looks at me as I approach. “I was wondering when I’d see you,” he says to me.
“Hi, Atlas. Can we talk?”
He nods. “We sure can.” He cocks his head as if I’m about to start talking right here.
“Uh, somewhere private?”
“Ah, right. Okay. Sure. Lead the way.”
I take him back through the group and toward the training room. We stop in the hallway once we’re away from the group enough that it’s quiet for us to talk.
Nobody’s around as I turn toward him. Atlas smiles at me, looking totally nonthreatening, but I still feel off. I’m worried about him, worried how he’ll take this.
He’s a rich guy, and rich guys don’t take rejection very well. They’re used to getting their way.
But I’m not interested. Maybe in some other circumstance, or in another life. But right now, with Cole lingering in my mind and in my body every time I get anywhere near him…
“What did you want to talk about?” Atlas asks me.
I take a deep breath. “Atlas, I need to be honest with you.”
“Okay,” he says. “What’s up?”
“I don’t think we should go out together.”
He hesitates, but only for a second, and his face doesn’t betray anything. “Okay,” he says.
I stand there for a second in silence. He stares at me, a little smile on his face.
“That’s it?” I ask.
“That’s it. What did you expect?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“Honestly, I am curious why you said yes at first, but you don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I’ll tell you if you promise not to get mad.”
“Go ahead,” he says.
“I was afraid of you.”
He laughs softly and nods. “I figured.”
“Really?”
“I’m the owner. You didn’t think you could say no to me.”
“Yeah,” I admit. “I didn’t. I’m really sorry.”
“No, it’s my fault. I should know better than to ask people out that work for me. It’s just a strange power imbalance and there’s not much I can do about it.”
“You’ll always have a power imbalance, though, won’t you?”
He smiles sadly. “Pretty much. It’s sometimes hard…” He trails off, shaking his head.
“You can tell me. I’m curious, actually.”
“Well, I’m rich. Everyone knows, it’s not some secret. But because I’m rich, people have certain… expectations. They want things from me. It’s hard to separate the people that genuinely care for me as a person and the people that care about my money.”
I bite my lip. I hadn’t thought about that part. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”
He waves my comment away. “Please. I’m a rich boy complaining about all the money I have. Not exactly sympathetic.”
“You’re still a person, you know.”
“I’m aware.” He grins at me. “Anyway, thanks for speaking up. I bet that took some courage.”
“It really did.”
“Figured I’d be in a good mood so now’s the time, right?”
“Right.”
“Not a bad thought.”
“Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything from the start.”
“Forget about it. Honestly. I’m already over it.” He grins at me. “I’m going to head back in there. You should try and celebrate too, you know.”
“I’ll try.”
He nods, smiles, and walks away. I watch him go, and for a second, I think I can see a slump to his shoulders.
But I shake my head and look away. Down the hall, something moves, and I realize it’s a person standing outside of his office.
Cole nods at me slowly. I nod back at him, eyes wide. I take a step in his direction, wanting to explain what I just did, but Tessa comes jogging down the hall.
“There you are!” she says, grabbing my arm. “Girl, you gotta come hang out. It’s crazy in there.”
“I know,” I say, looking back to Cole, but he’s already gone. I frown then turn to Tessa. “It’s like they won the lottery.”
“They basically did.”
“Genetic lottery, at least.”
“And now they beat the Patriots. What else can you want?”
I laugh. “Okay. Lead the way. Let’s have some fun.”
She grins and we head back to the locker room celebration. Together. I try and put Atlas out of my mind, I try not to obsess over what Cole’s thinking. I just try to relax, at least a little bit.
14
Cole
Monday morning, bright and early. I squint at the sun as I step out onto the field.
Robby follows me out, rubbing his temples. We’ve been watching tape from yesterday’s game for two hours already. A coffee steams in his hand.
“What do you think?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “Looks good. Could be better.”
“Yeah. I think so too.”
“We’re lucky the Patriots are dealing
with injuries right now. If their starting defense had been on the field…” He trails off.
I glance at him. “I know.”
“We may need to make some changes.”
I sigh. “I know.”
“Good.” He clears his throat.
“Anything else?”
Hesitation. It’s never good when Robby hesitates. “One other thing.”
“Just spill it.”
“About the trainer, Leah.”
I keep myself composed. I don’t look at him, as much as I want to. I stare straight ahead, out across the field. “That’s the one involved with Gage?”
“Correct, or so the rumors had it,” Robby says.
“And now?”
“Apparently it’s all cleared up.”
I hesitate. “Cleared up, how?”
He shrugs. “I’m not sure. But the new rumor is, she turned him down and they aren’t seeing each other anymore.”
I bite my lip. I didn’t know about this. I did see her speaking with him yesterday though, only briefly. Their conversation looked intimate, comfortable.
I don’t know what she told him. Part of me worries she told him about us, but that can’t be right. She knows better than that…
“Thank you, Robby,” I say.
He nods and stiffens. I frown, looking at him, and follow his gaze. “Speak of the devil,” he says softly.
Atlas Gage is striding toward us from the tunnel.
“You should go,” I say gently. “Before you get sucked into this.”
“Thanks,” he says, and starts off in the opposite direction.
I sigh and watch him go. Robby is a good worker, but all numbers. He wouldn’t notice if I were balls-deep in Leah right in front of him.
Or maybe he would, but he’d be too busy counting strokes to care about anything else.
“Coach!” Atlas calls out, getting closer, a big smile on his face.
“Hello, Atlas.”
“I wanted to congratulate you on your win again.”
“Thank you,” I say. “You’re here early.”
“I know,” he answers, stifling a yawn. “I was out late with the players and, well, I wanted to stop in and see how things were here.”
“All is well,” I say.
“Were you watching tape?”
“Always.”
“And it looks good?”
I hesitate. I hate telling him stuff, especially when I don’t need to, but he’ll hear it sooner or later. “Defense needs to change,” I say. “We need a corner that can keep up with the big guys, and we need a new tackle.”
He nods. “Whatever you want, you’ll get.”
“If only that were true.”
He grins at me, stretches. His suit is rumpled and his hair is a mess. I wonder if he slept here, somewhere in the clubhouse.
He probably did. I know some of the guys do that sometimes, when they’re out late around the stadium and don’t feel like going home only to show up early the next morning. They sleep here, shower here, and just wear whatever we have lying around. There’s always food, so it’s not exactly a huge sacrifice.
I sigh and look back out at the field. If only the game was just that patch of grass out there. I could live my whole life out there, in those hundred yards.
Everything in life happens there. All the drama, the excitement. Heartbreak, victory, everything. It’s all out there.
But football happens mostly out here, off the field. It happens in deals, in cultures, in effort, in ethos. I give the guys a reason to work for me, and they provide me with results.
That’s how this works, or how it’s always worked in the past. Now, though, I’m afraid it’s not enough.
“I heard about Leah,” I say abruptly, changing the conversation.
He hesitates a second, but doesn’t look overly surprised. “I was wondering if you’d bring that up,” he admits.
I look at him. “Why her?” I ask.
He shrugs. “She seemed interesting. Pretty. I just wanted some company, I guess.”
“You can get company anywhere. Why her?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “Convenience. She was there. I don’t know.” He shrugs a little, grinning. “Doesn’t matter, though.”
“Why not?”
“She turned me down. Said she wasn’t interested in me.”
I nod once tightly, trying to control the relief I feel. I don’t know if he can see it on my face but he doesn’t react at all if he can.
“It’s hard when you’re in a position like this,” I offer.
“I’m aware.” He sighs. “I don’t need to talk about my love life with you, Coach. I wanted to talk about something else.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Okay, what?”
“The playoffs.”
I wince a little. It’s bad luck to even mention the damn playoffs this early in the season. They’re so far away and it’s not at all guaranteed that we’ll even get close. I hate even hearing the word.
“What about them? It’s too soon to be thinking about it.”
He shakes his head. “I wanted to offer you a little… incentive.”
“Incentive?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Two million dollars if you make the playoffs, and another million for every game you win. And five for the Super Bowl.”
I blink, shocked. “Atlas, that’s a lot of money.”
“I’m rich, remember?”
“But still…”
He puts his hand on my shoulder. “You’re worth it, Coach. Just get us there, make some money.”
I stare at him. That money could go back into the team. It could buy us new helmets or something like that.
But then again, we’re not strapped for cash. Whatever we want, we get.
And I could always use an extra million dollars.
“Okay then,” I say finally. “I’ll take your offer.”
“Make the playoffs, and I’ll make you rich.”
I can’t help but grin. We shake hands and he turns away, walking back into the club.
I watch him go. Maybe I was too quick to judge Atlas. He doesn’t seem angry or resentful of Leah, or if he is, he’s doing a good job about hiding it.
That offer is insane. I’ve heard about coaches getting offers like that before, but I was working at a tiny liberal arts college before this. There was never any real money involved…
Until now.
I sigh, shake my head.
Money. Fucking money.
It’s always about money.
Back at Monray, it was about pride. It was about winning and the love of the game.
Now it’s about money.
I sigh, shaking my head. No reason it can’t be about both.
I walk back into the clubhouse, head spinning. I don’t even think about where I’m going as I move through the halls.
I find Leah in the tub room. She’s filling a cold bath for Sean while he sits on a bench nearby.
He looks up as I enter. “Hey, Coach,” he says. “You looking to get cleaned up?” He grins at the water.
I shake my head. “Had my shower for today. But you better get in there. I can smell the booze coming out of your pores from here.”
He grins at me. “Ah, c’mon, Coach. Not every day you get to beat the Pats, right?”
“Sure,” I grunt. Leah’s glancing at me the whole time, eyes darting between me and Sean, wondering what I’m going to do. “Listen, can I borrow Leah here?”
Sean shrugs. “Go for it. She was just about to torture me anyway.”
“Don’t be a baby,” she says to him. “When I come back, you’re getting in there.”
He groans, but doesn’t fight it.
I lead her out into the hall. Instead of turning toward my office, we head in the opposite direction, back toward the exit.
“How’s it going?” she asks me softly.
“I heard about Atlas.”
She goes still somehow, despite keeping pace with me. “
Oh. You did.”
“You broke the news to him.”
“Yeah. Well. He needed to know.”
“I’m…” I clear my throat. “I’m glad you did it.”
She gazes at me as we step out into the parking lot. We move past the other people just coming in for the morning, nodding as we go.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks, a little playfully.
“Somewhere away from here,” I say.
“Really? Why?”
“I just…” I take a sharp breath. “I just want to be away from here for a little while. Together.”
She bites her lip and nods. “Okay.”
We reach my truck. I open the door for her and she climbs inside. I climb in behind the wheel and hesitate.
I look at her, grinning like a moron. “Know anywhere good to go?”
She laughs. “I have some ideas.”
“Just tell me where,” I say, and pull out of my parking spot.
We ride together, my heart beating fast.
15
Leah
I direct him to the only place I really love around Fargo.
It takes about a half hour. We talk a little bit as we drive, mostly staying on easy topics. I keep looking at him, unable to tear my eyes away.
I feel this strange thing in my chest. It’s like excitement, but much more than that. It’s big and intense and it keeps pulsing, pulsing, pulsing away. It’s pushing me along, banishing my fears.
It’s making me sure that I want to be with this man, one way or another.
He glances at me as we pull down a little-used stretch of highway and smiles. “What?”
“Nothing. You just don’t look like a North Dakota boy.”
He laughs. “What’s that look like?”
“Cowboy boots and a black eye.”
“Why the black eye?”
“Because you skipped work to get drunk and your wife punched you in the face.”
He grins, shaking his head. “It can’t be that bad out here.”
“It’s not,” I admit. “We locals have a very self-deprecating sense of humor about the whole thing, but really, we’re fiercely proud of this place.”
“I can understand why.” Rolling hills and small scrub brush extend all around the highway. Most of the area around here is farmland, although trees don’t grow huge on the prairie anyway.