After working hard for the past sixteen years to attain a front office position she enjoyed, she wasn’t sure she wanted to stay with the Miners in any capacity. She knew that other teams around the league had been dragged into the twenty-first century by the fact women now made up forty-eight percent of the league’s fan base, but the Miners’ front office was resisting this fact with every weapon at their disposal. She hadn’t seen anything like this until she was welcomed into the front office group. A woman in their ranks was obviously more threatening than she had ever imagined. She expected opposition to being the first female executive on their org chart, but she didn’t have to take blatant disrespect and disregard for federal employment laws.
Kendall had made the trip on her own this weekend. Sydney was back in the San Francisco area getting ready for her finals. Drew wasn’t available by phone right now. She could call one of her girlfriends and whine about her situation, but her friends had their own problems. Hers seemed small in comparison to dealing with husbands, young children, and making ends meet when there was more month than money.
She tugged the hood on her Miners-logo fleece jacket up once more and stamped her feet a few times, hoping the blood moving would bring a little warmth. She felt her phone vibrating but didn’t pull it out of her pocket. Seconds later, she felt it vibrating again. She pulled it out and stared at the text on the screen.
DREW IS INJURED. HE’S ON HIS WAY TO THE HOSPITAL IN DALLAS. CALL ME. SYDNEY
Kendall’s stomach dropped, and she felt a surge of adrenaline seconds afterward. She turned and ran into the tunnel the Miners emerged from. Hopefully she’d have some cell bars and even a bit of privacy in here. She held her phone up, twirled around a few times, and realized it was fruitless. No bars. She’d have to get outside again to find cell coverage, and the only way she’d get any solitude for a conversation was to walk out of the stadium and stand on the sidewalk. She was wearing an all-access badge, but stadium security would be less than interested in re-admitting anyone who left the stadium and tried to come back in.
Drew was hurt. The fact he was on his way to the hospital was even worse. If it was something minor, the team would use the on-site X-ray machine in Dallas and patch him up when he got back to Seattle. She darted through the tunnel on her way to the elevators. She needed a place to make a phone call. The fans were in their seats. The media was in the press box. The elevators were deserted as a result.
The media was in the press box. She hit the button for that floor and prayed. If anyone in this stadium had cell and Internet access, it was them. They also had information from every game being played in the league. The elevator stopped minutes later, and she got out. She spied Paul Smith leaning against the wall outside of the press box door, using his smart phone. Paul had been reporting on pro football for twenty years now. Besides being excellent at his job, he’d always been friendly and cooperative when he’d chatted with her for a column or an exclusive on the Miners. She hurried over to him.
“Paul, do you have a minute?”
He grinned at her. “Sure, Kendall. What’s up?”
“Do you have any more information about Drew McCoy’s injury in Dallas today?”
He glanced at his smart phone again and shook his head. “The preliminary stuff I’m seeing on Twitter right now from the game states the team is afraid it’s a labrum tear with rotator cuff involvement. They’ll know more after he’s at the hospital.”
“My assistant texted me.” She held up her phone. He gave her a nod.
“I’m guessing Drew’s not answering his phone right now.”
She let out a breath. “Nope.”
Paul reached out to pat her upper arm. “You realize you just told me the rumors of personal involvement between you and McCoy are true.”
She swallowed hard and gave him a nod. “I’m guessing it’s too late to say this isn’t on the record.” She clasped her arms behind her. “Is it too late to make a deal?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Off the record source information instead?” she said.
Every sportswriter covering professional football was dying for a credible source that would discuss this past week’s fireworks in the Miners’ front office. The Miners’ owner had threatened the job of anyone found to have divulged information. Sometimes it was good to have nothing to lose.
“You’re on,” he said. She reached out to shake his hand. “Let’s see what else we can find out about McCoy until someone at the hospital answers their damn phone, shall we?”
Kendall called Sydney back. “I’m getting some more info. Thank you for the text.”
“You’re welcome,” Sydney said. “Do you need me to get you a plane ticket?”
“They’ll bring him back to Seattle as soon as they can get him released. Maybe I should go there instead.” Imagining how much pain Drew had to be in made her want to cry. Even worse, if the reports Paul was getting were accurate, Drew’s pro football career might be over.
She needed to get to him. First, though, she needed to handle a few things with the Miners.
DREW FLEW BACK to Seattle the next day with Coach Stewart in the Sharks’ owner’s private jet. He was still under the influence of hospital-grade pharmaceuticals, but he’d seen the X-rays and the results of the MRI he’d had late last night. It didn’t look good for his shoulder or for his future career.
The coach spent most of the plane ride watching game film. Head coaches were expected to keep a distance of sorts from their players so they could dispassionately deliver bad news. Coach Stewart must have been of the opinion that management style was stupid.
“We’ll be home in a few hours, McCoy.” He glanced over at Drew. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? Need more pain meds?”
Drew managed to crack a smile. “I’m good. Maybe I should try to take a nap or something.”
“That’s always a great idea. Plus, you’ll want to be rested for your welcoming committee,” the coach joked. The “welcoming committee” would consist of whoever was taking him for yet another MRI and more testing.
Drew’s phone was in the garment bag that had been stowed in the luggage hold by a Sharks employee. He’d talked with his mom a little last night from the hospital. Her employers were nice enough to give her a couple of weeks off so she could take care of him post-surgery. She’d be at his house when he got home later, but he hadn’t been able to text Kendall yet. He wasn’t allowed the use of his cell phone in the hospital room. He knew she had her own problems, but he needed her. She probably couldn’t leave work for a day right now. He got that she loved her job. He loved his job too. If he really wanted to make a relationship endure between them, though, they would have to discuss how to handle each other’s schedules.
This type of emergency would probably never happen again, but it might be nice to have a plan when she was seven hundred air miles away from Seattle and he couldn’t get himself on a plane without significant assistance. Injuries weren’t unheard-of in his job. As a matter of fact, the injury rate in the NFL was one hundred percent.
It wasn’t if he got hurt, it was when he got hurt, and how badly. Teams invested huge sums of money in the best medical care and conditioning staff they could obtain. The league’s go-to surgeon was located in Georgia and insisted patients fly to him if a procedure was needed. Drew wanted the best surgeon he could possibly get, but he also didn’t want to spend the next four to six months rehabilitating in Georgia.
“I’m guessing I have another doctor’s appointment when we get home,” Drew said to Coach Stewart.
“That would be a yes. Dr. Ellis will do the procedure,” Coach Stewart said. “His office is on Capitol Hill, and you can rehab with us. We talked with him earlier. He’d like to perform the surgery on Wednesday morning. He’s operated on several of your teammates with a lot of success, as well as guys from the baseball team and the soccer team. Would you like to talk with him beforehand?”
“Yeah, I would.”
; Drew shifted uncomfortably in the airplane seat. He knew he’d had enough medication to knock a bear on his ass, but he felt a sharp twinge of pain whenever he moved the right side of his body. He shouldn’t bitch. If he was in a traditional airline seat, they would have had to sedate him to get him home. He was looking forward to seeing his mom, but he really wanted Kendall right now.
He knew he wouldn’t be dazzling company. Holding her hand might be nice. He’d appreciate her simply being in the same room with him.
Four hours later, he stepped gingerly off of a small staircase and was strapped into a black Suburban with tinted windows.
“Hey, Drew. Heard you’re a little under the weather,” the guy behind the wheel said. Drew recognized him as part of the Sharks’ security detail. “I’m Chuck. I’ll be taking you to the surgeon’s office.”
“Thanks. I feel like shit.”
One of the Sharks’ training staff got into the front passenger seat.
“Good to see you, McCoy.”
Drew gave him a nod and flinched. He couldn’t move at all without pain. His shoulder was in a sling, but it wasn’t helping.
The coach tapped on Drew’s window. “We’ll talk with the surgeon as soon as he’s done chatting with you. Take it easy.” He gave Drew a fist bump on the hand that still worked and got into another black Suburban.
The visit with the surgeon was relatively quick. Drew liked to think he would have been able to ask a few more substantive questions if he was a little more with-it, but he took a look at the testimonials from other pro athletes the doc had operated on previously and gave the go-ahead for the surgery. He got a sheaf of paperwork in return, which needed to be filled out and returned prior to showing up at the hospital at six AM on Wednesday morning.
Chuck, the security guy, was nice enough to retrieve Drew’s smart phone out of the garment bag he’d loaded into the back of the vehicle at the airport. He handed it to Drew for the ride home. Drew scrolled down the contacts with one hand until he found Kendall’s number, clicked on it and the speaker function, and listened to it ring.
“Kendall Tracy,” she said.
“It’s me,” he said.
“Where are you?”
“I’m on the way home. I’m having surgery on Wednesday morning.” He pulled in a breath. “What’s new with you?”
“Things aren’t good, but I am more worried about you.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, and he heard her let out a long breath. The guys in the front seat were pretending like they were ignoring his phone conversation, which was nice of them.
“I have some meetings today and tomorrow. I will be there by the time you are out of surgery on Wednesday morning. Did your mom come back to Seattle?”
“Yes. She’s probably baking a cake as we speak.”
“Drew, I’m so sorry. I should have been there with you—”
“You couldn’t have been on the field,” he tried to joke. “You needed a pass for that.”
“I could have sat with you in the hospital, or gotten you something to eat, or fixed the pillows.” To his shock, he heard tears in her voice. “Anything.”
He clicked the speaker function off and brought the phone up to his ear. “I’ll still be here on Wednesday. Maybe you’ll be there when I wake up from the surgery.”
“I could hold your h-hand.”
“I’d like that.” He flinched again as Chuck drove over a speed bump which caused a fresh spear of pain through his shoulder. “So it’s a date?”
“It’s a date.”
KENDALL HAD SPENT the past several days attempting to concentrate on the work that had to be done instead of dwelling on the comments made to her during the disastrous meeting she’d crashed. She’d also succeeded in finding Sydney an assistant job at Google with one of Kendall’s former sorority sisters. Sydney’s last day with the Miners would be tomorrow.
Kendall knew she wasn’t going to be able to find as capable an assistant at wherever else she ended up, but to keep Sydney here to ride it out with her was wrong.
“Are you sure?” Sydney said for the one hundredth time in the past week. “You’re going to be alone here. I don’t feel good about your having to deal with those idiots by yourself.”
“I can handle it,” Kendall said. “I’m leaving at noon to go to Seattle anyway. I’m hoping they’ll make an announcement they’ve hired a new GM by the end of the week. I’ll take another job and get out.”
“Do you know which job you’re going to accept?”
“No, but I wouldn’t have to move if I went to work for Oakland. My parents would probably be happiest if I took Arizona’s offer. I don’t want to live in Miami.”
“Did you ask Drew what he thinks?”
“Not yet. I can talk with him tomorrow. I know he doesn’t want to leave Seattle, so that might be a problem for me.” She propped her elbow on the desk and rested her chin in her hand. “We’ll be meeting in the middle a lot.”
She was turning her life upside down for a guy she’d met three weeks ago, and they’d been on only a couple of dates so far. If any of her friends were telling her the same story, she’d tell them to slow down and think before acting. She realized that it was a little nuts for her to consider which job offer would work best for her skipping off to Seattle to see Drew as often as possible.
Above all, she wanted to spend more time with him. She knew he was interested, and she was into him too. The sex was great. He made her laugh. She had no idea, however, if they had what it took to build a life around. She’d been burned enough as the result of her experience with a married man. If things got any worse, she’d be doodling “Kendall McCoy” on her Trapper Keeper. It took a lot more to make any relationship work, though, than almost overpowering physical attraction and the fact they both liked to read. They’d be dealing with the day-to-day of real life for two people who worked an hour and a half plane ride away from each other.
The best thing she could do now was finish up the work on her desk and go to Seattle. She could spend time with Drew and maybe get some answers to the questions she had about any future they might have together. She pulled up the salary cap spreadsheet she’d been working on and forced herself to concentrate. The sooner she was finished, the sooner she’d be on her way.
KENDALL SAVED HER work to a thumb drive a few hours later and stuck it in the zippered pocket of her handbag. She knew she’d need the information to answer questions and be up to speed for the Friday morning conference call she’d agreed to as a condition of her staying in Seattle until Saturday morning. She’d meet up with the Miners in Atlanta on Saturday night for Sunday’s game.
Sydney walked into her office with reddened eyes and a shredded tissue in one hand.
“Don’t cry, or I’ll start crying,” Kendall said. She reached out to embrace Sydney. “You’ll be running your new office in a week or so.”
“Thank you for everything,” Sydney said in a tear-filled voice.
“No, thank you. I hope you know I’m your friend.”
“Uh huh,” Sydney said. “You’re my friend too.”
“If you ever need a job, I hope you’ll call me first,” Kendall said. “I know you’ll be here through grad school, but if you want to relocate . . .”
“I think you’re going to end up in Seattle after all. The University of Washington has a pretty good grad program,” Sydney said. Kendall let out a laugh. “I hope I’ll see you again soon.”
“I’ll call you when I get back from Seattle.”
Sydney gave her one last squeeze and grabbed Kendall’s coat, the tote bag with her tablet and phone, and her quilted cloth overnight bag off of the coat rack that sat in one corner of Kendall’s office. “Ready?”
“Ready,” Kendall said. She gave Sydney one last hug. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
Kendall sprinted to the elevator bank. Outside of the Miners’ corporate offices, she hailed a cab, flung herself and her belongings in the back seat, and sai
d, “San Francisco International Airport.” The city whizzed by, but she hardly noticed. She wanted to get to Drew. She could be fussing over him and holding his hand instead of having another thrilling encounter with airport security.
For the first time in her life, she made it to the airport in plenty of time. While working on her tablet in the airline’s MVP club, she felt her phone vibrate. She grabbed it out of her handbag, glancing at the screen. The display showed it was Sydney.
Kendall hit the “talk” button. “You can’t possibly miss me already,” she teased.
“There’s a problem,” Sydney said.
“What happened?”
“Rocky Hill got arrested again two hours ago for beating up his girlfriend in the lobby of the Bellagio. He’s in jail in Las Vegas. Jerry Berggren should be passing you momentarily in the airport. He’s going to bail him out.”
“WHAT?” Kendall knew she couldn’t scream in a crowded airport, but she really wanted to. “I knew this would happen. I knew it. I told those guys we needed to cut him, and they all fought me—”
“There are already media trucks parked around the building and your desk phone is ringing continuously. I don’t know how the media knew before we did. Hill called us twenty minutes ago.” Kendall pulled the phone away from her ear and noted the “missed call” symbol on her phone’s screen. “I keep hearing doors slamming and people yelling in the hallway.”
Kendall closed her eyes. She didn’t want the Miners to bail the guy out. She was cutting him and she wasn’t accepting any arguments about it, either. It couldn’t wait until she came back from Seattle. It needed to happen now, and she was going to spend the next day or so being the public face of the organization while she had to stand up in front of a mob of press and admit she didn’t have the spine to make her co-workers realize why Rocky Hill might be an All-Pro, but he was a public relations nightmare for any organization stupid enough to sign him. It was going to be a shit storm. She had no other choice than to get her ass back to the office.
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