Places in My Heart

by Sheryl Lister

  Jaedon nodded. “I asked a friend of mine to join us. He’s the private investigator I mentioned. It looks like Roland has been busy. There are at least two other players he’s embezzled from.”

  Omar sighed. “I saw that article. He’s denying everything.”

  “And insinuating you’re doing it as a publicity stunt.”

  His anger rose. “How long before this mess gets settled?”

  “Depends on—” A soft knock sounded and the door opened.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” the assistant said, “but you asked me to escort Mr. Wright in when he arrived.”

  “No problem. Come on in, Zo. Omar Drummond, this is Alonzo Wright. Zo—”

  “This man needs no introduction,” Alonzo said, extending his hand. “End Zone Drummond. Good to meet you, man.”

  “Same here,” Omar said, rising to shake the proffered hand.

  They all sat and Jaedon continued. “As I was saying, the length of time it could take depends on how long Mr. Foster tries to drag things out. I have a meeting with his attorney tomorrow, and we’ll see how it goes. My hope is that the man will realize he doesn’t have a leg to stand on and end this fiasco. I’m already working to get a warrant for his arrest. Zo, did you find out anything else on Omar’s endorsements?”

  “Nothing aside from the three we already knew about. It looks like he was trying to broker another deal.”

  Omar nodded. “He’d called me about it, but it was the day I fired him, so he can’t negotiate anything on my behalf. I contacted the representative from Apple to let them know my new agent would be in touch.”

  “I did observe him meeting with a woman at a coffee shop a few times,” Alonzo said.

  “Must be his assistant, Carolyn.”

  “Assistant?” Alonzo stroked his chin. “Maybe, but the woman always seems to be nervous coming and going.”

  Omar shrugged. “I can’t help you. Do you know what she looks like?” Alonzo described a woman who could have been Carolyn. He’d only seen her twice and couldn’t be sure.

  “I plan to keep them under surveillance a little longer to see what he’s up to, and I’ll get a couple of pictures to send Jaedon so you can take a look.”

  “Sounds good. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Looking forward to seeing you on the field this season.” Alonzo stood. “I’ll be in touch, Jae.” And then he was gone.

  Omar and Jaedon talked a few more minutes before the meeting ended. On the drive home, Omar thought about the conversation and what Alonzo revealed, and got angry all over again. Why would Roland be meeting with his assistant at a coffee shop instead his office? Shaking off the negative vibes, he decided to drive across town to the restaurant. He’d promised his mother he would stop by.

  His mother took one look at him when he came through the door and declared, “Praise God! The prodigal son has returned.” That garnered a few chuckles and curious stares from the diners.

  He walked behind the bar and hugged and kissed her. “Seriously, Mom. It’s only been about three weeks.”

  She eyed him. “More like a month. It’s not like you live in another state.”

  Omar gave her a sheepish grin. “I know.”

  “And you can’t use football as an excuse.”

  He kissed her again. “I’m sorry. You know I love you.”

  “Mmm-hmm, stop trying to butter me up.”

  “What?” he asked innocently. “I do love you.”

  She popped him on the arm. “Go sit down, boy. You want something to eat?”

  “Just some chicken soup.”

  “All right. I’ll have Joanne bring it out to you.”

  The lunch crowd had come and gone, so more than half of the tables sat empty. Omar slid into a booth near the back, away from the other diners. His cell buzzed. He pulled it out and read the text from Morgan.

  Might be tough with my workload, but maybe we can meet for a few minutes tomorrow night. What are you doing?

  At the family restaurant. Mom’s been on my case since I haven’t visited in a few weeks.

  He glanced up at Joanne’s approach.

  “Hey, Omar. Here’s your soup. Can I get you anything else?”

  “Thanks, Joanne. May I have a glass of water?”

  “Sure. Be right back.”

  The phone buzzed again.

  There had better not be anything resembling BBQ ribs on your plate.

  Omar chuckled and replied,

  Just soup, baby. I promise to hold off on the ribs until I bring you.

  OK. Gotta run.

  “What are you back here smiling about?” his mother asked, placing a glass of water on the table and sitting across from him.

  “Just talking to a friend.”

  “It’s good to see you, Omar. How’ve you been?” his father asked, joining them.

  “Hey, Dad.” He started to rise.

  His father shook his head. “Don’t get up.”

  “I’m good,” Omar said. “Just making a few transitions.”

  “And why is it that I have to read in the paper about this mess with Roland and that you have a new agent?”

  “That’s part of the reason I haven’t been around.”

  “Are you going to be able to get your money back?” his father asked.

  “I hope so.”

  His mother smiled. “Your father showed me the picture of your new agent. She’s beautiful, but how much does she really know about football?”

  Memories of that “Madden” game they’d played flashed in his head, along with the resulting sensations. “Ah, she knows a lot,” he answered, bringing the spoon to his mouth.

  “I don’t know how wise it is to take on someone who’s new to the business at this stage of your career.”

  Omar replaced the spoon in the bowl. “Dad, Morgan Gray is an attorney. She works for her family’s company, Gray Home Safety. Her brother is a teammate, and he says she knows the game well.” The fact that she was the first person ever to beat him at the video game’s highest level left him no doubts that she knew football.

  His mother angled her head thoughtfully. “I see. And when will we get to meet this young lady?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure.” That their relationship was supposed to be secret didn’t lend itself to him bringing her to the restaurant, where everyone knew him and would be sure to have questions. Pictures would be all over social media within seconds of their arrival.

  “I’m anxious to meet the woman who has captured my son’s heart.”

  Omar didn’t know whose face registered more shock, his or his father’s.

  “You’re dating your agent?” his father asked incredulously.

  He released a deep sigh and nodded. “Yes, but—”

  “But, what? You’re either dating her or not.”

  “We’ve agreed to keep it under wraps until the new contract is done. This is her first shot at the business, and I don’t want to jeopardize that.” But he also didn’t know how much longer he would be able to hold out.

  His mother reached for his hand. “She sounds like a wonderful person, and I can’t wait to meet her.”

  “She is.” He found himself utterly captivated by every facet of her personality.

  “As long as she makes you happy, sweetheart, don’t worry about anything else. Let’s go, Bobby, so Omar can finish his food.” They scooted out of the booth, and she placed a motherly kiss on his brow.

  His father patted his shoulder. “Good luck, son. I hope it works out.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” He hoped it did, too. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if things fell apart.

  * * *

  Against her better judgment, Morgan agreed to meet Omar Tuesday downstairs at the café
located on the first floor of the office building. But if they both could keep a business-like appearance, everything should be fine. John’s test results on the rail had come back and Mr. Metzler indicated his report would be sent today, so she would be spending her time getting ready for the meeting with Mr. Porter later in the week. Consequently she wouldn’t be available tonight, as she’d previously thought. Morgan had purposely chosen a later time to ensure they’d miss the lunch crowd. When she spotted him and their eyes connected, everything she felt rose to the surface, and she had a hard time not rushing across the room and kissing him.

  “Hey.” Omar lowered himself into a chair.

  “Hey. You said you needed to tell me something and it couldn’t wait.” He seemed to be weighing his words before speaking, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

  Omar nodded. “I didn’t want to do this in a public place, but I need to tell you something.”

  “What is it? Did something happen?” He grasped her hands. Mindful of where they were, Morgan tried to pull back, but he tightened his hold.

  “Baby, I don’t want to hide anymore.”

  “Omar, we talked about this,” she said in hushed tones.

  “I know we did, and I was okay with it at first.”

  “It’s only a couple more weeks. Just a little while longer,” she pleaded.

  “I can’t.” He leaned forward and locked his gaze on hers. “I love you, Morgan, and I want to tell the world.”

  Her pulse skipped. “Omar... I... I don’t know what to say. Are you sure? I mean, we haven’t been together long.” “I love you, too,” might work, her inner voice chimed.

  Omar smiled. “I realize that, but it doesn’t change what’s in here.” He pointed to his heart.

  Morgan closed her eyes. Tell him! “I...”

  “I’m in this for the long haul, so I can wait until you—”

  “I already do,” she whispered. He stared at her with such tenderness she thought her heart would explode. “But I’m not ready for everyone to know.”

  “Morgan.”

  “I need a few days to think about it, okay. Please?”

  He gave her hands a gentle squeeze and released them. “Okay. When is your meeting about the lawsuit?”

  “Friday.”

  “Maybe we can talk it over Friday evening before training camp starts on Saturday.”

  “Yes.” Their meeting with the Cobras was scheduled for the middle of next week, and she had been thinking they would casually start being seen together a week or so afterward. But his confession had completely thrown her for a loop.

  “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

  Morgan nodded and watched him stride out. Blowing out a long breath, she went back up to her office.

  “I left your messages on your desk,” Evelyn said as Morgan passed.

  “Thank you.” She closed the door, dropped down in her chair and rubbed her temples. She couldn’t be happier that he loved her, but she still worried how it would affect her goals. Her gaze strayed to the stack of messages. She rifled through them and, seeing that none were urgent, laid them aside. She picked up the pad holding her notes for Omar’s contract. She had compared salaries and stats of all the league’s tight ends and knew she should be able to get him somewhere near, if not at the top of, the salary cap, along with more guaranteed money. Excitement raced through her veins. If this went well, it would show other players that she could, indeed, hang with the big boys.

  Morgan’s computer chimed an incoming email, and she quickly clicked on the message from Mr. Metzler, happy to see the promised report attached. She read over the results. “I don’t believe it,” she mumbled. She snatched up the receiver and called Brandon.

  “Brandon Gray.”

  “Hey, big brother. Just got Mr. Metzler’s report. The findings support the ones in John’s report.”

  “Then, this whole ordeal will be over soon.”

  “Keep your fingers crossed. Talk to you later.”

  Morgan placed the papers she had been working on in their folder, tossed it on the corner of her desk and pulled the file containing the lawsuit documents. She printed the report and worked on the timeline. She frowned. Something didn’t add up. Digging through the mess of paperwork, she located the delivery tracking receipt. “That can’t be right, unless...” She picked up the emergency room report and smiled. “Bingo.”

  * * *

  Friday afternoon, Morgan made sure she had all the packets of information, then headed down to the conference room where her father, sister, brother and uncle were all waiting. She greeted everyone and took a seat. Minutes later, her father’s assistant, Mrs. Avery, escorted in Mr. Porter. Morgan successfully concealed her surprise at seeing his clients, the Sandersons, enter behind him. Mrs. Sanderson was in a wheelchair being pushed by her husband.

  “Thank you for coming,” Morgan said, gesturing the trio to the table.

  “My clients insisted on being present,” Mr. Porter said.

  After introductions were made, Morgan asked, “Would either of you like some coffee or tea before we get started?” They all declined. “I have the reports from both our office and from Mr. Metzler.” She passed out the copies. “You will see that both reports conclude the structural integrity of the rail is intact.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Mr. Porter interrupted. “It still came away from the wall, and my client was injured as a result.”

  Morgan smiled. “We’re very sorry about Mrs. Sanderson’s accident. To make things easier, if you turn to page seven, I took the liberty of recreating a timeline of events.” She waited. “According to the tracking receipt in your packet, the rails were delivered on a Thursday at 1:27 in the afternoon. Estimated installation time can be anywhere from two to four hours, depending on a person’s expertise. I call your attention to the highlighted lines. Those are the dates and times the ambulance arrived and when Mrs. Sanderson was admitted to emergency.”

  “All of this means nothing,” Mr. Porter said impatiently.

  Morgan turned her attention to Mr. Sanderson and asked gently, “Mr. Sanderson, were there instructions included in the kit?”

  “Yes.”

  She felt really bad about what she had to do, but slid the instructions to the man. “Can you please tell me what the circled section says?”

  He picked up the paper and his eyes widened. Mr. Sanderson glanced up at Morgan and lowered his head.

  Seemingly confused, Mr. Porter looked from Mr. Sanderson to Morgan. “What is going on here?”

  Morgan took the liberty of passing the attorney another copy of the instructions. “The circled portion clearly states in a large, bold and italic font to wait twenty-four hours after installation before using to allow the included glue to adhere to the surface. Less than ten hours passed between delivery of the rails and Mrs. Sanderson’s injury. In addition, your client did not use our glue. Please turn to page eight. Tests conducted on the sticky substance on the ends of the rails seen in the photo indicate that Mr. Sanderson used an over-the-counter superglue. These results show that, while we sympathize with your clients, Gray Home Safety is not liable for Mrs. Sanderson’s injuries.”

  The couple looked crushed, and Morgan’s heart went out to them. However, she was happy to prove her family’s company hadn’t been at fault. With nothing else left to say, Mr. Porter led his clients out. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her family’s praise filled her with a sense of pride, and her father asked to talk to her alone.

  “What is it, Dad?”

  “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you, sweetheart. Your tenacity saved us millions of dollars, not to mention our reputation.”

  Morgan knew where he was headed.

  “Honey, I really wish you would reconsider this whole agent thing.”

 
“Dad, this is what I want to do, and I may not get another shot. I have to take this chance. Otherwise, I’ll always wonder what if?”

  He sighed deeply and nodded. “And if it doesn’t work out?”

  “Then you’ll be stuck with me here,” she said with a wry chuckle. They shared a smile.

  “I love you, baby girl.” He engulfed her in a warm hug.

  “I love you, too, Daddy.”

  He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Give ’em hell.” He winked and left her standing there.

  With the late hour, Morgan packed up and went home. Having her family’s blessings, especially her parents’, meant a lot, and Morgan felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. And now that the lawsuit had been cleared up, she could focus solely on the contract over the weekend. She was also anxious to see Omar, but he’d called to let her know that he might not make it over because his sister-in-law had been involved in a traffic accident. And with the start of training camp tomorrow, she resigned herself with having to wait to tell him her decision. She was ready to risk it all for them.

  Chapter 18

  Monday morning, Omar eased down in his seat and waited for the tight ends meeting to begin. Luckily, the Cobras team management opted not to travel for camp, which afforded a player the ability to stay in the comfort of his own home instead of living in a hotel or dorm for weeks. After arriving at the practice facility at seven, he’d completed almost an hour of conditioning and strength training and had breakfast. But his thoughts were never far from Morgan.

  He couldn’t go to her on Friday because Serena had been involved in a car accident, and he’d gone over to stay with Brianna and RJ while Rashad accompanied her to the hospital. Thankfully, aside from some soreness, she was fine. But by the time they made it home, it was too late to visit Morgan. Then with the start of training camp Saturday, he hadn’t had a free moment. Omar planned to call her tonight when he got back home, but most likely he wouldn’t be able to see her until Wednesday at the meeting. As much as he missed her, it was going to take a herculean effort for him not to grab her up and kiss her like he wanted. He was curious as to how she would do with the team’s owner, Lawler and the general manager, Green, especially since she would be shooting for the top of the cap and more money up front. Both men could be somewhat brusque. Then again, she had handled Roland with no problems. That coupled with the knowledge that they could be open with their relationship in a few days put a smile on his face.