by Lucy Snow
“Not bad, all things considering.”
“Considering the nearly three hundred pound man determined to separate you from your legs?”
I chuckled. “You have a way with words; you paint such pretty pictures with them. Anyone ever tell you that before? Yeah, the 300 pound guy.”
“Why thank you.”
“Tell it to me straight, doc. How long am I going to be off the field?”
“There’s good news, and then there’s bad news.”
I grimaced. “What’s the good news?”
“It’s not career-ending.”
“Well, that’s a relief. And the bad news?”
“You’re gonna be out for a few weeks at least.”
Shit. A few weeks? That was an eternity in a football season. We only had 16 games before the playoffs, and every single one of them counted. Each one of them was a week of preparation and practice that I’d miss, a week of connection with my brothers, one more week for Oliver Lee to get used to working with them.
“Look, Lance, I can tell you’re bummed-“
I cut her off. “You don’t know the half of it.” I turned my head to the opposite side. “I’d like to be alone, please.”
“Lance, don’t do this-“
“I said, I’d like to be alone, Charlotte. Thank you for all your help.” I didn’t want it to sound so acidic and biting, but as soon as the words came out I knew that I had gone overboard. Too late now, couldn’t take them back.
“You’re going to have to talk to me at some point, Lance Parker.”
Ouch. Charlotte rarely used my full name like that. I think on some level she was still a little mad that I’d given her just my last name at the club that night, what felt like so long ago. “Maybe that’s true, but I would prefer it not to be right now.”
I knew without looking that Charlotte had her hands on her hips, looking at me with consternation. I was getting to know her a little better than I thought.
“Fine. I’ll be outside in the main room if you need me.”
“I’ll be fine in here, thanks.”
She turned and opened the door. “Also, you’ve got visitors, I’m going to start sending them in.”
She didn’t even give me a chance to reply before closing the door after her. If she had, I would have told her that I wasn’t in any mood for visitors.
There was a knock, and I turned my head back around to face the door. Through the window I vaguely saw a woman’s head. I nodded and she opened the door and stepped into the room.
It was Mackenzie Mayfield, the daughter of the owner of the Patriots, Jonathan Mayfield. I had met her before, of course, at various team functions. I knew she was a front office staffer, but I didn’t know much else about her.
“Lance,” Mackenzie began, “I came over as soon as I could. That was a big hit you took.”
“…Hey, Mackenzie. Yeah, big hit.”
“I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Looks like I’ll be out a few weeks.”
“I’m well aware of that, I was wondering if there was anything I could do in the meantime to make sure the recovery process goes well.”
I grinned. “You could re-sign me to a long term deal loaded with guaranteed money. That would help quite a bit.”
She laughed. It was a pretty laugh, and she looked good doing it. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m looking for places to dump excess salary cap.”
“Thanks, please do.”
She stopped laughing. “I mean it, Lance, I just want to make sure that you’re OK, and that you know the entire team is behind your recovery. We want you to take your time and get back to health, but…” she came closer, leveling with me, “it would be a great honor to my mother’s memory if we could win a championship this year.” She stood back up. “And honestly? I think you’re the best man for the job of securing one for us.”
Mackenzie’s mother, who had been a friend and near-mother to almost everyone on the team, had passed away during the offseason after a long bout with cancer. John Mayfield had dedicated this season to his late wife, and we had all agreed to play in her memory.
John Mayfield hadn’t been very public around the team lately. “I will keep that in mind. How is your father taking things, Mackenzie?”
Her eyes clouded and she shook her head. “Not well. My parents were together for almost 30 years. Losing someone like that takes a toll on a man.”
“And you? How are you holding up?”
“Better on some days than others, really. Right now I have more important things to take care of. After the season’s over I’ll take the time to properly let it out.”
That was Mackenzie Mayfield. Around the facility she was known as a wizard with the business side of things, but kind of a robot to deal with on a personal level.
“Well, I’ll do as much as I can to get back on the field as soon as possible and help out.”
Mackenzie smiled. “You do that, Lance. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”
“I’ll do that, thanks.”
She turned toward the door, before turning back. “Keep this between us, Lance, but I plan to take over the team from my father soon. I would very much like you to be our starting quarterback for many years to come.” My ears pricked up. “If you give me a good enough season this year,” we both knew what she meant, “I should be able to convince the front office that’s in our mutual best interest. Do we have an understanding?”
So that was it, then? Championship or bust this year. Well, there was nowhere to go but up from here. “Yes, Mackenzie, we do.”
“I’m glad we could see eye to eye. I’ll check in on your progress next week.”
“Thanks.” But Mackenzie Mayfield was already gone.
That was more or less an ultimatum. Mackenzie was going to be in charge of the team and if I could find a way to get back on the field and get us a championship, I could write my own ticket in New England.
I had to focus on that and nothing else, whatever it took.
There was another knock on the door, and I could tell through the glass it was Drake. Before I could do anything Drake had opened the door and come in, with Lily right beside him.
Both were in street clothes, and they looked really good together. The twinge of jealousy that echoed through me was immediately replaced by happiness - I was thrilled that my boy Drake was so happy with Lily.
“Hey there, Lance.”
“Drake, man, how’s it going. We won, yeah?”
“Yeah, man, we won.” The smile fell away. “Listen, man, how are you doing?”
“I’m doing alright, doing alright. You know how it is, you’re playing pro football and a guy twice your weight sits on your knee. Happens all the time, could have happened to anyone…” It even hurt to make jokes about it.
“I’m sure I don’t know how that feels, and from the way you describe it I am in no hurry to find out.”
“It’s not so bad. Sawbones out there says I should be back in a few weeks. You better hold down the fort while I’m stuck in here, yeah?”
“I’ll do that, man, I’ll do that. You gotta get better soon, I dunno how long I can make Oliver look good out there.”
“I know, it’s gonna be tough. Just don’t make him look too good, you hear?”
Drake laughed. “Whatever it takes to get the W, you know that, Lance. We’re Patriots.”
“Yeah. I know how it goes.”
“How are you doing, Lance?” Lily piped up, coming closer and laying her hands on my arm. “Are you in lots of pain?”
“Pain? Nah, I’m good. Me strong like bull.” I puffed up.
Lily frowned and looked at Drake and I. “So that’s where he gets it.”
We both laughed.
Drake got quieter. “Listen, we heard you yelling at Charlotte just now.”
“Oh.” Ouch. Embarrassed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, man, these walls aren’t that thick.”
> I looked down, ashamed of myself. “Yeah, that wasn’t my finest moment.”
“I’m sure she’ll be OK, but you gotta go a little easier on her, alright? This is her first real job and the one guy she’s in charge of keeping healthy just took a big injury. Think about it from her perspective.”
Drake had a really good point. “You’re right, I didn’t think about that.”
“She’s been worried sick about you these last few hours, Lance,” Lily added. “Hasn’t left this area once.”
“I’ll apologize and try to be better about that.”
“Good, I hope you two patch things up. She’s a real keeper, you know?”
“What?” Both Drake and I stared at Lily.
“I’m just saying,” Lily said, smiling to herself, “watch out or Charlotte Calloway’s gonna steal Lance Parker’s locked-away heart.”
Drake and I groaned at the same time. “Please, Lily, please promise me you won’t try to play matchmaker around here,” Drake said, through clenched teeth. “This isn’t a fucking romance novel.”
Lily looked at Drake. “Oh yeah? And tell me what happened to us during the preseason wouldn’t make a great romance novel? I bet if someone wrote down our story it might make the Amazon Top 100!” Lily dug into her bag and pulled out her kindle, waving it at us. “It would be a bestseller! I’ve even thought of the perfect title. I’d call it ‘Tackled.’”
“Please, please, not this again.” Drake was smiling ear to ear, though, and I knew that he would tell the story of he and Lily falling in love to anyone who would listen. With optional sound effects.
Lily punched him in the arm. “You love it.”
“I do, I totally do.” And then he kissed her, long and hard.
“You know,” I added, “I’m still in the room. In fact, let me confirm, but this is actually my room.” I held my finger to my ear simulating an earpiece feeding me information. “Wait, no, yes, I’m getting reports that this is, in fact, my room. Take it elsewhere, kids.”
They both laughed and turned toward the door. “Remember what I said, Lance.”
“About romance novels?”
“No, silly, about Charlotte. She’ll steal your heart if you let her.”
“Come on, Lily, let the man rest,” Drake butted in. “Don’t fill his head with that stuff. Don’t forget, during the football season, Lance Parker doesn’t have a heart to steal.”
They waved goodbye and were gone.
I turned back over to face the window.
‘Didn’t have a heart to steal.’
Was Drake right? Did I not have a heart for Charlotte to steal?
CHAPTER 08 - CHARLOTTE
I was steaming mad. I paced around in the waiting room outside Lance’s room and wondered which celestial beings I had angered to end up in this kind of situation - working for a ridiculously sexy man that I had not only slept with but couldn’t stand being around.
What made it worse was that he needed my help. It was infuriating and I couldn’t see any way around it. Every time I looked at him, I couldn’t decide whether to yell at him or jump into his arms, and it was beginning to tear at me from the inside.
For the hundredth time that week I wondered if I wouldn’t be better off just quitting my job and going back to Wichita. Sure, the work wasn’t so great, and there wasn’t a realistic path for any advancement, but at least back home I didn’t have Lance Parker staring at me with those ridiculously hot and sexy dark brown eyes of his.
Every time he looked at me like that I could feel my body respond to him, feel myself get more and more turned on. The amount of control that man had over me, with just a sidelong glance, drove me up the wall, and it made each day at work with him a sweet sweet torture the likes of which I had never experienced before.
More importantly, I didn’t know how long I could stand it. But, at the same time, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted Lance to keep looking at me like that. I wanted him to pull me aside when no one was looking, wrap those giant arms around me, and whisper romantic things to me in between rushed kisses. I wanted him to sweep me away.
But I also wanted him to stop, you know, being all Lance Parker and all. So we couldn’t always get what we wanted out of life, even in the short term.
The door to Lance’s room opened and I ignored it, preferring to keep walking around and thinking about what was going on and what I was going to do about it…if anything.
“You know, Charlotte,” I heard Drake’s voice from the direction of the door as I heard it close, “if you keep pacing like that you’re going to wear a groove into the floor.”
Always with the jokes, that Drake. I wondered how Lily put up with him, but at the same time, whenever I saw those two together I couldn’t help but realizing just how in love they clearly were with each other.
I looked up, suddenly distracted. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that, it’s just that I was…”
Lily stepped toward me. “We know, dear. You were pacing around and wondering about Lance in there.” She looked at me with consolation on her face, like she knew where I was coming from because she had been there before. “It’s not always easy, is it?”
“The work? Yeah, things can get pretty hairy around here, with the schedule and all.”
Drake grimaced, and Lily shook her head. “No, dear, that’s not what I meant. It’s not always easy falling for a man like that.” She punched Drake in the ribs, and he leaned against the wall, feigning all sorts of pain. “Sometimes you have to go out and hit them with a stick until they realize you mean business.”
I was dumbfounded. “So…I should go find a stick somewhere?”
“Oh, honey, I can’t tell you what’s right for you, I just wanted to say that I understand where you’re coming from and I hope it gets better for you soon.”
I looked down. “I’ve been thinking about quitting, you know? Going back to Kansas and trying to find something else.”
This time it was Drake who spoke, though Lily clearly wanted to also. “NO” He looked around sheepishly, like he was ashamed that he’d yelled out of nowhere. “You cannot go anywhere, Charlotte. Not this far into the season.”
“What? This is only week 3, there’s like 14 weeks left in the regular season alone.”
“Yeah, but Lance needs you. And not just because of this injury.”
“He’s made it pretty clear he doesn’t even want my help with that, either.”
“Look, Charlotte, I haven’t known Lance Parker all that long, but if there’s one thing about him I can say, it’s that sometimes he misses the forest for the trees.”
I wrinkled my nose. “That doesn’t seem like a good trait for a quarterback. He needs to see both.”
“And on the field he’s better than anyone at it. But off the field, he’s got a major case of blinders going on.”
“What’re you saying?”
Drake didn’t speak, but Lily did. It was weird how having a conversation with one of them basically meant you were having a conversation with both of them. “It means, honey, that you gotta stick with it. We know Lance, he’ll come around, but until he does it’s not gonna be easy for you.”
“I dunno if I can, guys…”
“We do. We haven’t known you all that long, but it’s pretty clear that you’re not the type to give up, even if the thought does cross your mind from time to time. So stick with it, and don’t be afraid to use a stick when Lance needs it.”
“How will I know when that is?”
Drake laughed. “When he’s awake.”
That lightened the mood enough that all of us laughed out loud, and Lily and Drake nodded to each other. “Time for us to make our exit. I think you should go check on your patient, Nurse Charlotte.”
I saluted back. “Will do. And thanks for the advice.”
“Anytime, honey. I wish I’d had someone around like that to help me when I was dealing with this guy.” Lily poked Drake again, who was still rubbing his stomach from the last one. “It
might have saved me a lot of headaches.”
“You love it,” Drake said, and ushered her out of the room. Ugh, those two were so obnoxiously happy together I didn’t know whether to congratulate them or feel super jealous.
So I settled for doing both. They were incredibly fortunate to have found each other while each was going through big turmoil, and it showed in how strong their relationship had become in just a short time.
I wanted something like that for me, hopefully without all that turmoil, but this definitely seemed like a case where Charlotte was not getting what she wanted.
Lily and Drake’s advice definitely came from the right place, though. I just didn’t know how I could keep working with Lance when he was like this. Especially now that he wasn’t going to be playing football for at least a few weeks, he was going to be insufferable, and not just because each time he looked at me I wanted to take off all my clothing and rub myself against his hard body.
I really needed to stop thinking like that, but I already knew that I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t fair - all day I got to touch Lance Parker’s body, but never the way I wanted to. Never the way we had touched that one night.
It just wasn’t fair.
I sighed, looking around at the empty waiting room, and then steeled myself to go back inside and deal with Lance. I couldn’t avoid him forever. Even if he didn’t want to talk to me right now, I was still in charge of his physical health and I had a job to do.
I took a deep breath and knocked twice before opening the door to Lance’s room. No response. I went inside and shut the door behind me.
Lance was still lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. I couldn’t read him from the half of his face that I could see, but I knew right away, just by the way the air seemed to hang in the room, that he wasn’t thrilled to be there, and that his visitors hadn’t really done very much to un-sour his mood.
“I’m just coming back in to check on you,” I said, out loud but not directed at Lance. I just wanted to go about my business while he thought things through - he clearly didn’t want to talk.
I busied myself with checking the readings and instruments at the side of his bed, fluffing up the pillows and making sure that everything was stocked.