The Playbook

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The Playbook Page 9

by Emilia Beaumont


  Anger flared within me, and I gripped the steering wheel. Why hadn’t she told me? Now all of her hesitations made sense—and here I thought she was just being shy. Hell, even her name in that book the other players kept hidden made a whole lot of sense! I was going to kill them. This was so far from hazing that it wasn’t fucking funny. It was my livelihood, for fuck’s sake… and perhaps hers, too, I considered. No wonder she was the untouchable woman. Hell, a man couldn’t compete with her father, especially not one like me who would be staring his boss in the face when he found out that I had slept with his little girl! Dammit.

  A horn blew behind me, and I looked away from the press conference, seeing that I was now the one blocking traffic and causing several people to turn and stare. With a growl, I threw the car into drive and gunned it through the gate, confusion and worry now coursing through my veins. I had slept with the damn owner’s daughter. If I wasn’t sacked by the end of the day I would count myself lucky.

  It didn’t take me long to park my car and walk into the training room, where some of the guys were already gathered. I eased up to my locker, slowly forcing myself to unclench my fists.

  “Dude! Hey, you sick or something? You look like shit.” I looked up to find Terrence next to me, a concerned look on his face.

  “I fucked up.”

  “Aw, hell,” Terrence said, leaning in. “If you smoked it, I can get you some clean piss for a nominal fee. Wouldn’t be a problem.”

  “No, I didn’t do that. Actually, in truth, you fucked up,” I said angrily, throwing my bag into the locker, mad at myself, Lucia, and Terrence, who’d gotten me into this mess. Not only that, I was mad at life in general. I had just found an amazing woman, and she was the only one I could never ever go near… again. Not if I valued my career. I couldn’t be more pissed about that. “I won the fucking bet, Terrence.”

  Terrence took a step backward, his eyes widening. Clearly he knew who Lucia was. “You what?”

  “I said,” I growled, doing everything I could not to slam him into the locker, “I won the damn bet. I slept with X last night. Or should I say, Lucia Cortes.”

  “Oh shit,” he replied. “I don’t believe it. Seriously? Shit, don’t you know who she is?”

  I wanted to say that I couldn’t believe it, either, but not for the same reasons he was probably thinking. “I do now, you asshole! What the hell am I going to do? This is all your fault, Terrence.”

  Terrence shook his head, pulling down his cleats from the shelf. “I know, fuck. I’m sorry, dude. We never thought you’d be successful! Damn, I wouldn’t want to be you if Cortes ever finds out. You will be on his shit list forever and never get any playing time. He might even trade you over this. Fathers are protective over their little girls, you know? I hope to hell you gave it to her good so she doesn’t have a reason to complain about you.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” I sighed and leaned against the locker, finding it hard to believe that just a few hours ago everything was going so damn well. “There’s no way I can go to those therapy or performance sessions or whatever they are fucking called now.” I couldn’t face her until I had all of this figured out. I didn’t know what to say to Lucia or how to even approach this news I had just learned. It could potentially mess with my career, and that was the one thing I couldn’t afford to go south.

  “Just tell Coach,” Terrence answered as the buzzer sounded, indicating that it was time to go out to the practice field. “He hates all that mumbo jumbo getting in the way, hates that it interferes with his schedule. He doesn’t like his players going. He’ll get you out of it. If you want to skip it, he’s your man.”

  I nodded. It was a start. But I promised her: one date in exchange for going to the sessions. She was going to be pissed. But maybe a proper clean break, with no contact ever again was going to be the best way forward and out of this mess.

  My lips in a thin line, I grabbed the rest of my stuff and jogged out with Terrence, finding Coach on the sideline. “Hey, Coach, can I talk to you for a moment?”

  “Sure, Jacob,” he replied, a friendly smile on his face. The man was a pure genius, a coach that I enjoyed working with. I couldn’t wait to run his plays for real and not just in practice. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to catch you, but reception told me they couldn’t get hold of you—apparently you have a shit-load of messages at the desk.”

  “Ah, okay. I changed my number, you see.”

  He bobbed his head. “Well, just remember I’m not your messenger, so make sure you update the staff.”

  “Will do, Coach.”

  “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

  I swallowed hard, hating that I was going to do this right now, but hell, I didn’t know what else to do. I had to get my shit together and fast, especially now with the hole I’d dug for myself with my actions. “I can’t go to that therapist anymore. She’s messing with my head.” I hoped that would be enough; I truly didn’t want to have to go into detail or lie any more than I already had. That was my business.

  “I fucking knew this would happen,” Coach swore, catching me by surprise before clasping me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I will take care of this, Jacob. Thank you for coming to me.”

  I nodded and jogged off, my entire existence in turmoil. I’d hoped there would be a wave of relief after telling the coach, and yet there wasn’t even a fucking smidgen. Why did I feel like I had screwed Lucia over, and not in the way that I wanted to?

  14

  Lucia

  “I’ve had enough of you!”

  I looked up from my papers to see Greg storm into my office, his face red with exertion. “Excuse me?”

  “You,” he said, wagging his finger in my face angrily. “You are screwing with my players’ heads and I won’t have it. Dammit, Lucia, I put up with a lot of shit from your father, but you are messing with the team and their money making potential, and I won’t let you do that.”

  I folded my hands together and looked him square in the face, tired of his opinions of my work. After my night and rush to work this morning—getting the cold shoulder from my father—the last thing I wanted to do was deal with Greg as well. “I am doing my job, Greg. It’s part of their contract.”

  “Well, not anymore,” he exclaimed, his words giving me pause. I was the owner’s daughter, but this man ran my father’s team. If he pushed hard enough, I would be gone. There was no way my father was going to choose my side or my job over his coach’s wishes, not this close to the start of the season. Blood was blood, but money and success talked in this organization, and while Greg was an asshole, he was making my father a bucketful of the green stuff. “I’m pulling all of the quarterbacks from this immediately. Don’t make me go to your father about this, Lucia. You keep on and I will have the entire team pulled, and you will be out on your ass, you hear me?”

  I took a sharp breath and bit my lip, as I picked up on the fact he had specifically mentioned quarterbacks. That would mean Jacob was included. Had Jacob said something to cause this sudden embargo? Had last night not been as spectacular as I thought it had? He wouldn’t do this, would he?

  Unanswerable questions whirled around in my head, enough to make me dizzy. But when I truly thought about it, I didn’t really know him at all, did I? One night full of sex and barely any talk was not the way you got to know a person. And perhaps this was his way of telling me he didn’t want to see me, that he was embarrassed he had slept with me?

  When I had left that morning, my body had ached deliciously, and my heart was doing its best to convince my brain that it wouldn’t be all that bad if I were to date a football player after all. Our night together had been way more than I had imagined, his playfulness making me feel like someone special for the first time ever, like a woman who was truly coming into her own. I felt more confident and slightly more brazen when I was with him—it reminded me of my former, much younger self. My true self? Me at the age of fourteen, when I barely concentrated o
n schoolwork and my life was filled with fun and laughter. Being with Jacob, and even only for one night, had caused a huge crack to form in the rigid life I’d built for myself… and shining through now were the possibilities of what could be, if only I widened the break instead of spackling over it.

  But now Greg was threatening my job once again, and I hated it. I felt my hackles rise in defense; I wanted to go to war with him instead of backing down. I hated him, and I wanted him out of my office before I threw something at his balding head and definitely got myself fired.

  “Fine,” I finally said, gritting my teeth as anger and frustration welled up inside. “I won’t see the quarterbacks.” Giving him this little victory was probably going to come back and bite me in the ass, but for now I had to give in. Besides, perhaps not seeing the quarterbacks—Jacob—would make it easier to see him again socially, I thought with a teenage-like pang. God, I couldn’t get him out of my head. Yes, with him no longer my patient it could work… I would figure out the rest later. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise.

  “Damn right you won’t,” Greg said as he started to walk out. “Don’t forget, if I find out that you are messing with anyone else’s heads, I will pull them, as well. Don’t push me on this, Lucia. Stay the fuck away from my team. You have no jurisdiction here, just another woman whose daddy is handing her a career.”

  He then stormed out, leaving me sitting there behind my desk, tears threatening my eyes. I would not cry over this, I would not allow him to goad me into thinking I wasn’t making a difference! My dad had not given me this job. I had earned it, rightly. The diplomas on the wall gave me the right to do this. But, if it came down to me and Greg, my father would side with Greg all day long—especially after this morning’s debacle.

  Turning up late, and in last night’s clothing, to boot (which Merry and Dad had both noticed, though Merry was discreet enough not to say anything) hadn’t won me any brownie points with my dad. I’d seen the disappointment on his face, and I never wanted to see that look ever again. I would make it up to him somehow, be the perfect daughter for his mayoral campaign efforts and not give him any grief. Because now not only did he have a team to worry about, he also had an election to win, as well, and if word got out that his daughter was a hussy, sleeping around with the players while ‘pretending’ to be a therapist, my entire family would be sunk. My father would be pissed off, and I would be in a world of trouble. My reputation, professional and personal, would be shattered. Once a floozy always a floozy in many people’s eyes.

  Standing, I shut the door to my office and pulled out my cell phone, locating Jacob’s number. I needed to talk to him, to find out one way or another what he was thinking and if he’d said anything that would give any kind of indication that we were sleeping together. If he didn’t want to see me again, fine, but I wanted to hear it from him and him only.

  The phone rang a few times and the voicemail came on, but I wasn’t sure exactly what to say.

  “Um hey,” I finally decided upon, feeling foolish. “This is Lucia. Give me a call back when you get this. We kinda need to talk.” Hanging up, I sat the phone back on my desk and forced myself to calm down. Greg hadn’t alluded to the fact that he knew about my little date with Jacob—surely if he had, he would’ve used that as a fool-proof piece of ammunition to get me fired. And so far no one had come in to spread the gossip. My secret was apparently safe for the moment, and I hoped it would stay that way, but something told me that I should enjoy the slight relief because a storm was coming.

  I walked past the locker room, feeling drained from the day’s events. I’d hoped to run into Jacob at some point during the day, but so far he had eluded me and not returned my phone call. The door opened and the object of my thoughts walked out, surrounded by three other guys from the team. Our eyes locked, and I felt the heat of desire rise into my cheeks, the memories of what we had done just hours ago still fresh in my mind.

  “Hey, Doc,” he said, his grin now cocky as I stood there at a loss for words. “Like what you see? Or perhaps you are here for my autograph?”

  “Oh shit,” another player murmured. “He did not just say that to her.”

  I heard the remark and knew I had to respond just like I normally would but it was hard not to take his nonchalance as a slight. Had last night meant nothing to him?

  “No,” I swallowed, trying to put on a brave face so that he would not see the hurt. Hurt was a sign of weakness, and I was not weak, I thought as I grit my teeth. I really wanted to knee him in the balls, but my father wouldn’t be too happy with that scenario, either, if he heard his daughter was roughing up the players. Plus it would bring about too many questions that I wasn’t prepared to answer. “All I see before me is a boy who wants to be a man and is failing miserably at it.”

  Jacob’s eyes flared with surprise as he registered the insult, and I felt a small amount of satisfaction. He had made me think about him all day long, and I was annoyed that he was occupying my thoughts so much. For the longest time I had been on my own and just like that—after a silly night of fun—it had all turned sour. I was back in that vicious cycle of lust, where a member of the opposite sex could have this type of effect on me, wreaking havoc on my life. I hated it. I felt like I needed to make an appointment with myself to have my head examined!

  Obviously last night had been a huge mistake… what the hell had I been thinking? Players were all the same, cocky, womanizing playboys, and I was just another notch on Jacob Maddox’ bedpost. I wanted to groan at my stupidity.

  “Are you going to let her get away with that?” the player next to him said, his eyes on me. I knew him, and as much as I wanted to say that I knew about his own issues, I couldn’t. I needed to be a professional.

  “Well, Doc, I don’t know,” Jacob finally responded, his grin restored. He was back to full confidence. “Would you like to find out? I’m free later if you want your very own session with me.”

  The bastard! He’d known—somehow—what it meant to me to go on that date with him in exchange for him turning up for his sessions with me. Now not only was he not going to be coming to them anymore, and he’d obviously said something to the coach, but he was also throwing it in my face! I wanted to yell and let loose the anger that was building, but if I did that I knew something bad and regrettable would tumble out of my uncensored mouth. Instead, I narrowed my eyes to let him know I was not at all happy with him and stormed away, ignoring the laughter that followed behind me. Let them think that Jacob had one-upped me. We had bigger problems than that.

  It wasn’t until I was in my car that I felt the first tear escape from my eye, then another, much to my dismay. I hated crying, especially over some guy who was an idiot. Fucking jocks, they were all the same. But I had slept with that buffed-up fool and my career, everything I was attempting to do at this facility, was in jeopardy. What was I going to do?

  My phone rang, startling me, and for a stupid moment of hope—yes, I was pathetic—I thought it might be Jacob, calling to apologize, wanting to talk, to explain his actions. But Cara’s number was on the display and I sighed, thankful that at least I had someone I could still talk to and rely on. I answered and held the device up to my ear. “Hey, Cara.”

  “Hey, babe,” she replied. “What’s wrong? You’ve got that ‘the world has gone to shit’ tone.”

  “Oh, it has, but it’s too much to talk about over the phone,” I said, “I sure wish you were a lot closer so I could lay it on you. Needless to say, guys suck!”

  “That they do,” she said slowly, “but consider me your fairy godmother ’cause the funny thing is, I am here.”

  “Here, here?”

  She laughed at my eagerness. “Yes, I got in just a little while ago and wanted to see if you want to meet me for drinks.”

  “Oh, you have no idea how much I want that,” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes. A good bestie talk was exactly what I needed, and it totally helped when your bestie was a therapist, too.
r />   “Just tell me where and I will be there,” Cara was saying, her chipper voice making me feel tons better already. I gave her the address of a bar I’d overheard the players recommend one time and then ended the call, turning the key over to start the engine.

  “Oh my God.”

  I ducked my head and took another sip of my drink. “I know, right? What am I going to do, Cara? I don’t think I can go back to work now. He’ll be around every damn corner, waiting to pounce on me and rub it in. And if he hasn’t already, the rest of the players will know what we did, and God… I don’t think I could stand the whispers and knowing looks.”

  Cara shook her head, her short bob swinging with the motion. “Geez, Lucia. You can really get yourself into some messes. What happened to your no-player rule? Though it’s partially my fault, I told you to go for it. But in my defense, I didn’t know he was a player.”

  “Yeah, well, you haven’t met Jacob,” I sighed, and signaled for another drink. We were in a bar a good ways from the stadium, a hole-in-the-wall place that was apparently known for its margaritas and eclectic atmosphere. The place was starting to fill up, and I just hoped that no one from the team decided to stop in, or I was going to really lose it.

  Cara sat back and looked at me, with the same concerned expression she’d had the entire time I was telling her the long, convoluted story of the mess I was in. While I knew she wouldn’t judge me whatsoever, she was going to give her two cents’ worth anyway.

  “Well, was it good?”

  “Cara!” I blushed, my mind thinking of exactly how good it had been. I had lost all my inhibitions with Jacob. The outdoor sex had been something that I never foresaw myself doing, and yet with him it had been easy to let down those barriers.

 

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