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Skin in the Game

Page 17

by Jackie Barbosa


  “The only thing I want is for you to ask the school board to give me my job back because you think it’s the right thing to do. If you believe that getting rid of me is the right thing to do—if you’d be happy to tell your wife and kids that you got me fired and how you did it—then you should go right ahead. If you really want to get the head coaching position when Harvey retires because you shoved me under the bus, I’m not going to do anything to stop you. But if you have a shred of decency, then you know what you’re doing to me is wrong, and you won’t do it.”

  As she spoke, the lines etched around his eyes and mouth eased and his expression began to soften. That might mean her argument was having the desired effect, but it could just as easily mean the exact opposite. She was handing him the perfect opportunity to get everything he wanted. All he had to do was admit to himself that he had no conscience.

  At least this time, she knew she’d done the right thing. Now it was up to Chuck Donnelly to do the same.

  “By the way,” she added over her shoulder as she headed for the door, “you might also want to call the parents you contacted and admit that you exaggerated the severity of the situation.”

  Donnelly rocked backward, his mouth dropping open. “How did you know?”

  “You just told me,” Angie answered with a wink before sailing out of the room.

  ***

  The call came Thursday afternoon, much sooner than she’d expected. After Angie hung up, she wandered into the living room, where her father sat in his recliner watching ESPN.

  He muted the TV when he saw her. “I hope that was good news,” he said.

  “It was. I’m expected at school as usual tomorrow morning. Plus, I’ve been given the head coaching position. Permanently. No more ‘interim’ in my title.”

  Her father beamed with pleasure. “That’s terrific, chickadee. Congratulations! You earned it.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” She took a seat in the chair that had once been her mother’s. “I’m just glad it’s over. The last few weeks have been…”

  She let the thought trail off. What had they been? Maddening, certainly. But also thoroughly marvelous. Now, she had everything she’d always thought she wanted: her teaching job, the head coaching position, a shot at the state championship. Unfortunately, she was no longer sure it was enough. She wanted her cake…and Cade, too.

  As if the television read her mind, a picture of Cade appeared on the screen. Her heartbeat faltered. “Turn up the volume,” she said.

  Her father unmuted the TV in the middle of the announcer’s sentence. “—announcing the trade of Cade Reynolds today. The Texans have been entertaining multiple offers from teams in need of a strong quarterback. Let’s go to Fran Jacobs, who’s live at the press conference, which should be starting in just a few minutes.”

  The scene cut from the studio to a brunette reporter who was standing in a hotel lobby holding a microphone. A very familiar hotel lobby.

  Angie’s heart skidded to a halt. Cade hadn’t gone to New York; he’d stayed right here.

  He was holding his press conference at the Riviera St. Croix hotel. And there could be only one reason for him to do that: he was going to take a trade from the Vikings.

  Worse yet, she knew why. It was another message, meant for her and her alone.

  She shot from her chair. “I have to go, Dad.”

  Her father looked at her, his eyebrows raised in mild surprise. “Oh? What’s up?”

  “I have to give that man a piece of my mind.” And an even bigger piece of her heart.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “In conclusion,” Bill Fielding, the Vikings’ GM, said, “we’re thrilled to have Cade join the team and confident that he’ll be able to help us turn the corner on the season.” He gave Cade a hearty slap on the shoulder as he spoke. “And now, I’d like to open the floor to any questions from the media.”

  As hands shot up in the air, Cade surveyed the audience packed into the small conference space the hotel had provided. And that was when he saw her. Angie stood at the back of the room. Somehow, she’d managed to convince the security guard to let her in despite her lack of press credentials. Knowing the cameras were on him, he repressed a grin. It was just like her to bull her way right past obstacles as if they didn’t exist. One short, slightly rotund man in a rent-a-cop uniform wouldn’t stand a chance against her.

  Cade sure as hell didn’t.

  As the reporters began lobbing their questions, Cade met Angie’s gaze and inclined his head ever so slightly in acknowledgment. Unfettered by the attention of the lights and cameras, she scowled in answer. He knew what she was thinking. She’d given him explicit instructions to follow his dreams, but here he was, sacrificing it all for her.

  But how could it be a sacrifice, when he’d realized that this was his dream?

  “This question is for Mr. Reynolds.”

  Cade’s attention snapped to Jim Dutton, a reporter from Sports Illustrated, who was sitting in the second row of seats. Dutton had done the cover story on Cade for the magazine the year he’d won the Heisman and again two years ago, when he’d been in the running for the MVP award.

  Fielding stepped away from the podium so Cade could take the microphone. He nodded toward Dutton. “You needn’t stand on ceremony with me, Jim. Cade will do just fine.”

  “All right, Cade,” the reporter answered with a chuckle, “in that case, I won’t pull my punches, either. Earlier this week, a very trustworthy source told me you were going to the Jets. I remember you saying years ago that you hoped to play for a New York team someday, so this decision is a big surprise. Would you care to elaborate on how you wound up taking a trade to the Vikings instead?”

  Cade glanced at Angie. He’d done it in large part to be near her, yes, but he’d done it for so many more reasons than that. She had to know that, no matter what happened between the two of them, he wouldn’t regret what he’d done.

  “Now, Jim, I’m sure you know it wasn’t entirely up to me. The Texans had a lot of say in the matter.” A low rumble of laughter rolled through the room. “That said, I went to high school just across the river in Harper Falls, so Minnesota is home to me, and being able to play for the team I grew up rooting for ranks right up there on my list of lifetime ambitions. To be honest, I just never considered the possibility that I’d get the chance, and I’m incredibly grateful for the opportunity.”

  “How do you feel about taking Warren Harris’s place?” another reporter, this one female, called out. “The two of you are close friends off the field, aren’t you?”

  “Well, Miss— ” He knew almost all the reporters in the room, but he didn’t recognize this woman. She was both young and very pretty, if a bit unorthodox in appearance thanks to the decidedly unnatural red and gold streaks in her hair and the tiny ring laced through her eyebrow.

  “Erica Grassley, Minneapolis Star-Tribune,” she supplied.

  “Well, Ms. Grassley, the truth is, I can never take Warren’s place. The Vikings’ offensive scheme is similar to the Texans’, which is why I was a good choice for the position, but Warren and I have different skills at quarterback, and I won’t run the game the way he did. I just hope I can do the job to the satisfaction of the team and the fans for the rest of this season. After that, we’ll see how Warren’s rehab is going, and when he’s ready to come back, I’ll step aside.”

  The rest of the questions were routine: when would he play his first game, how did his shoulder feel, what was he most looking forward to about getting back on the field. As Cade answered them, he kept his eye on Angie. He could tell she wasn’t entirely satisfied with his answers; she was still afraid he’d given up on the Jets for the wrong reason. And her fears were justified. He’d made a big deal about how much he wanted to play for the Jets, to live in New York. Somehow, he had to say something that would convince her that, no matter what happened between them, no matter what happened with his career, this wasn’t a decision he would regret.

  So, whe
n the questions died out, he took over the microphone one last time.

  “I’d like to go back to Jim Dutton’s earlier question about the rumors that I’d be going to the Jets. It’s true that I was initially leaning toward that deal, but I changed my mind for several reasons, some of which I’ve already discussed. But there is one reason I didn’t mention, and that’s the fact that I’ve come to realize there’s more to life than football. If my injury taught me anything, it’s that this game is fickle and fleeting. A man can go from being at the top of his game to being a has-been in the blink of an eye. There just aren’t any guarantees.

  “I spent the past few weeks here in Harper Falls, where I grew up, getting reconnected with my past. In the process, I saw that my future is here, too. You see, I got the opportunity to help coach my former high school football team, and although I’m not at all sure they needed me, I discovered that I definitely needed them. They’re on their way to their first state championship since I was a senior, and being a part of that gave me a real sense of purpose.

  These are great kids—great players—and their coach is possibly the most inventive and gifted strategists I’ve ever met. Now that I realize how much this town and the people in it mean to me, I can’t just up and leave.” He looked straight into Angie’s eyes. Their blue depths shone with emotion, though whether that emotion was faith or disbelief, he couldn’t tell. “They say home is where the heart is. Mine is here.”

  ***

  Angie blinked back tears. Her throat was raw.

  It had been an affecting speech. Even the reporters, who had no idea what had motivated Cade’s monologue, had misty eyes. They couldn’t know that when he said his heart was here, he’d meant her.

  If she were being strictly rational, she would admit that there were still plenty of issues for them to resolve. Like how she was going to cope with being a celebrity’s wife or what they would do when his stint with the Vikings ended. But how could she be rational when he’d laid his heart on the line? Logic was a great strategy in football, but it was a lousy one when it came to love. Sometimes, you had to throw caution to the wind and do what felt right. Even if it scared you to death.

  “Are there any more questions?” Cade asked, his tone business-like. He clearly wasn’t expecting any.

  Angie raised her hand. “I have one,” she called out.

  Every head in the room swiveled in her direction. Cade stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. Maybe she had. Or maybe it was just time to stop being afraid of what she couldn’t control.

  Cade cleared his throat and leaned into the microphone. “What’s that, Miss Peterson?”

  Reporters scribbled fiercely on their tablets, recording her name for posterity. They were probably trying to figure out which news outlet she worked for. Good luck with that.

  “Does your previous offer still stand?”

  For a few, anxiety-producing seconds, she thought he didn’t understand which offer she was referring to, but then his eyes crinkled at the corners and he nodded. “You know it does.”

  “Then I accept.”

  “Accept what?” a female voice called out. The reporter from the Minneapolis Star-Tribune.

  Cade looked at Angie, his eyebrows raised in query. Are you sure about this? She smiled in answer. One way or another, she was going to have to find a way to live with media attention.

  No time like the present.

  He held out his hand and beckoned her to the stage. Her stomach pinched a little at the thought of standing up there under the lights and in front of the cameras. Of making her private life so very public. But she went anyway. When she reached the platform, she took his outstretched hand and let him lead her up the steps to the podium. The warmth of his large palm was comforting. Steadying.

  She could do this.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the press,” he began, “I’d like to introduce you to Angela Peterson, head coach of the Harper Falls High Eagles and, as soon as we can arrange it, my wife.” The room erupted in a chorus of surprised oohs. Cade leaned over and murmured in her ear, “I think a public display of affection is called for.”

  Yes, yes it was.

  Angie turned and wound her arms around Cade’s neck. “You’re right. And for once, I don’t think it can get me into any trouble.”

  As he bent his head to kiss her, flash bulbs went off and applause rang out. Angie had no doubt that the photos would turn up on the Internet within an hour and in the pages of many papers tomorrow morning. When his lips met hers, though, she couldn’t bring herself to care one single, solitary bit.

  Epilogue

  Spring break

  “Do you think we can sneak away without anyone noticing?” Cade whispered into Angie’s ear as they retreated to one corner of the hotel ballroom to watch their wedding guests dance and otherwise make merry. Although they’d been legally married since the week of Thanksgiving, between Angie’s football season and Cade’s, there’d been no time for a formal ceremony until now.

  She shook her head. “What would they think if we did?”

  “That I couldn’t wait to get you into bed?” He nuzzled her neck, sending a shiver of pleasure down her arm.

  “Exactly my point,” she hissed, elbowing him in the ribs. “Some of my students are here, you know!”

  Angie cast a fond glance in Jake Hansson’s direction. He’d been cleared to play again with just a few weeks left in the season and had graciously shared the quarterback position with Tyler Johnson throughout the state championships. His willingness to give up part of the spotlight was unquestionably responsible for the team’s ultimate success. Fortunately, the reduction in his playing time hadn’t affected the interest of college scouts, and Jake was already weighing offers from Notre Dame, Syracuse, and UCLA, although he was still hoping to hear from USC so he could follow in Cade’s footsteps.

  “And your father,” Cade observed, then added with a chuckle, “although if anyone winds up sneaking out early, I’m putting my money on him and Georgette.”

  Georgette Baker, an attractive, lively widow in her early sixties, was her father’s girlfriend. They’d met a little over a year ago at—of all things—a fly-tying class, and had been seeing each other ever since. Angie had been more than a little shocked when her father admitted the relationship; it seemed that by living with him for so long, she’d been putting a crimp in his style. She supposed it was natural for him to worry that she’d be upset with him for “replacing” her mother, but she knew better than to think that. He should have trusted her with the truth. On the other hand, she hadn’t exactly trusted him at the beginning with the truth about her relationship with Cade, so she was willing to cut him some slack on the subject.

  Her gaze strayed from her father and Georgette, who were huddled in a corner, heads bent together in quiet conversation, to Harvey Lund, who was on the dance floor with Cade’s mother, who’d made the trip from Florida for the ceremony. Looking at Harvey now, no one would guess he’d had a heart attack complicated by pneumonia just six months ago, a turnaround Angie had to credit largely to Rachel. In addition to finding appropriate nursing care for him, Rachel had put Harvey on a diet and exercise regimen that had him fitter than he’d been in years.

  He could easily have taken the head coaching position back from Angie, but being a man of his word, he’d declined to do so. She still thought of him as her boss and mentor, though, and was relieved that he’d recovered so quickly and thoroughly.

  Unfortunately, the same could not be said of Warren Harris. Shortly after his initial surgery, he’d contracted a severe infection that had not only taken six weeks to cure, but had done further damage to the bones and muscles in his ankle. Despite intensive therapy, he was still unable to walk more than a few feet without the assistance of a walker and even that was clearly painful. He’d been determined to stand as Cade’s best man, however, and had managed to make it through the ceremony with the help of a cane, but since then, he’d retired to his wheelchair. Ang
ie knew Cade was concerned that Warren had given up hope of recovery;

  Warren’s retirement would secure Cade’s position with the Vikings for the foreseeable future, but under the circumstances, that would make Cade feel worse rather than better.

  As Angie was pondering this dilemma, Rachel sailed up to them. If Angie were the envious type, she might be irritated with Rachel for looking so gorgeous in her royal blue maid of honor dress. “Are you two thinking of sneaking away?” she asked, her tone playful.

  “To be honest—” Cade began.

  With a glare, Angie cut him off. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t deprive you of the chance to get rice in my hair.”

  “It’s birdseed now, you know,” Rachel corrected. “Either way, you two look like you’ve about had it. Why don’t we do the bouquet, garter, and cake now so you can get out of here.”

  “That sounds like an excellent plan,” Cade said.

  In her usual take-charge fashion, Rachel hurried off in the direction of the DJ to make the arrangements.

  “She’s quite a powerhouse,” Cade remarked when Rachel was out of earshot.

  Angie laughed. “That’s an understatement. I think Rachel could make Niagara Falls run in reverse if she put her mind to it.”

  “Think she could make Warren well again?”

  Angie looked from her best friend, who stood at the DJ’s station, her face lit with animation as she explained what she wanted him to do, to her husband’s best friend, who sat in his wheelchair, grim and silent. Warren was the sort of challenge Rachel would never be able to resist. Moreover, she had her doubts that anyone could resist Rachel’s will, even if he wanted to, and she doubted that Warren Harris wanted to spend the rest of his life walking with a cane.

  “If anyone can do it, it’s Rachel.”

 

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