Georgia Pine (Southern Promises Book 3)

by K. G. Fletcher

  Jessica’s heart raced, and she felt light-headed. Was this a joke?

  He continued. “Do you remember anything about that game two years ago? It was all over the news.”

  She shook her head and continued to look right at him, taking in every facial feature from his sad eyes to his pouty lips.

  He sighed. “It was a gut-wrenching loss. I had completed over seventy percent of my passes right down to the last ten seconds.” He peered into her face, straining to see if she was listening. “Are you following me, Jessica? Do you understand football terms and logic?”

  She nodded quickly, unable to speak and gave him her full attention. Tim’s eyes were nothing but black circles staring back at her, and his knuckles were white from his intense grip on the chair.

  “I had a chance to win the game. A chance to be a Super Bowl legend and win Super Bowl MVP.” He ran his hand through his long locks and kept his breathing steady. “I was a key player, paid to perform, and I failed in an instant. This is very hard for me to talk about…”

  Jessica perked up with a question. “Did you hurt someone during a play? I don’t understand.”

  Tim sighed dejectedly. “I don’t expect you to understand and no, nobody got hurt during the game… but me.”

  Jessica wanted to console him but wasn’t sure how. She still didn’t know why this beautiful giant sitting in her home had left his world behind because of a football game. Mind you, it was the epic Super Bowl, so it probably was more heartbreaking. But not so much that you would leave your whole career behind and become a gardener.

  “Football games are won and lost every year, Tim. Help me understand why this particular game was so hard on you. I know it was a Super Bowl, which is amazing in itself. Oh my god! But one of the teams had to lose. Why did this loss make you want to run away and hide?”

  “It’s difficult to explain, Jessica. I let my team down. I let the franchise down. I let the state of California down. Do you know what it’s like to receive death threats? To be the butt of all jokes? To be the most hated man around? None of the players ever blamed me. They kept reinforcing the message on television and radio broadcasts that it was a team loss. But I knew better.” He stood and paced in front of her. “The fans are the ones who suffered the most. And it was all because of me.”

  Jessica stood and went to him. She wasn’t afraid anymore, feelings of empathy and pity traveling straight to her heart. It was as if her heart finally recognized his.

  She brought her hand up to move his long hair away from his face, her fingers lingering on his cheek. “I know the kind of loneliness you must have suffered losing so much. I do.”

  Tim bowed his head and nodded.

  “But I want you to know, you can trust me.”

  He nodded again and clasped her hand in his, leaning them against his cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t upfront with you before, about my real name. About who I really am. I should have known better because you have children.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I need this conversation to stay between you and me. I don’t need everyone in the neighborhood gawking at me while I’m working if this gets out.” He brought their hands down to his side.

  “Why a gardener? If you were an NFL player, don’t you have money? Couldn’t you retire and not have to work?”

  Tim led her back to the couch, and they sat down still holding hands.

  “Yes. I tried to ‘retire’ in California, but I was inundated with death threats and basically lived in a fishbowl. Everyone gawked and pointed at me everywhere I went. I thought it would die down after a couple of weeks, but it just didn’t let up. I became a prisoner in my own home. I needed to get away. I needed peace and quiet.” He paused, looking down at their intertwined fingers. “I hung out with my sister Tabitha in Malibu for a few months. She was the one who suggested I go far away for a while until things died down.”

  “You have a sister?” A surge of love poured through her, so happy for him.

  “Yes.”

  “And you chose Atlanta?”

  “Yes. I’ve been here many times and have always loved the city and the weather. It was nice not being recognized. I was able to breathe for the first time in months not having to look over my shoulder or have the paparazzi seek me out.”

  Jessica shuddered as she tried to imagine that kind of scrutiny. Her insides buzzed, realizing Tim was an NFL celebrity who probably banked millions and millions of dollars. The very thought took her breath away. How dare she judge him for what he looked like or what he was doing presently. How dare anyone mock someone as kind-hearted and thoughtful as Tim McGill—or Tim Ryan.

  “I met Mr. Martinez, you know, the guy who owns the landscaping company I work for, while I was out picking up some weed killer at the local nursery and we struck up a conversation. He was intrigued that I spoke Spanish so fluently and asked if I could help translate a big landscape deal he was working on. It kind of snowballed from there. I only work part-time, but it’s helped keep me busy.” He ran his thumb back and forth across her fingers. “He’s the only one in the south who knows who I really am. Him and now, you.”

  Jessica nodded, the overwhelming awareness that only two people in the state of Georgia knew his true identity. It wasn’t a burden on her conscious; more of a relief.

  “I’ve healed, mostly. I have good days and bad. But there’s an ache in my heart when I think about living out in the open again. My chest feels hollow, and the agony of reliving that defeat will never go away. I coveted alone time out of the spotlight my entire career. I guess I got it.” He turned his body toward her and squeezed her hands gently. “I’m sorry, Jessica. I don’t want this secret to be a burden on you, but you needed to know the truth. Can you forgive me?”

  Her eyes widened. “Of course. There’s nothing to forgive, Tim. And for the record, it’s not a burden. I’m glad you opened up to me.”

  “I want you to look me up online. I want you to watch the playbacks and see what happened for yourself. I think that’s the only way you will understand all of this.” He laughed. “Everything I’ve told you tonight sounds like a crazy person made it up. Maybe I do belong in the nuthouse.”

  “No, you don’t,” she reassured him.

  Their eyes locked. “You’re too sweet to me.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Promise me you’ll go online before we see each other again.” He suddenly stood up.

  “Wait? You’re leaving?”

  “It’s late, and I know you have babies to get to bed.” He pulled Jessica up to her feet, and they embraced. “Get in touch with me in a day or two and we’ll go from there,” he whispered into her ear.

  Jessica gripped the back of his t-shirt, unsure if she could let go of Tim McGill. Unsure if she was ready to let former NFL football quarterback Tim Ryan in.

  Chapter Nine

  Her baby girls slept soundly in the king-sized bed, the muted television throwing light across the rumpled bedspread. Jessica sat in an overstuffed chair in the corner with a blanket over her knees and opened the browser on her computer. Her fingers trembled as she typed in Tim’s name—Tim’s real name.

  Tim Ryan—disgraced NFL Quarterback for the San Francisco 49ers.

  The screen immediately came to life with distressing headings like heartbreaking, loser and failure. Clicking on the first header, the browser took her to a video replay of the Super Bowl moment that had changed Tim Ryan’s life forever.

  The fans in the stadium were going wild, gold and red team colors ablaze in the stands. The roar was deafening inside the AT&T Stadium in Dallas, Texas, commentator’s voices giddy with ten seconds left on the clock. The camera zoomed in on Tim, his profile recognizable from beneath his gold helmet, the video replay going into slow motion.

  He was in the shotgun position ready to take the snap, the 49ers down thirty-four to twenty-nine with three yards to go, first down. An incredible comeback victory was on the tips of his fingers. His mouth moved as he shouted the final
cadence. As the ball was perfectly snapped from center, he glanced to the left side of the defense to check the coverage. A fraction of a second with his eyes off the ball was all it took. The football hit the bottom of his hands and ricocheted off his knee toward the line of scrimmage. A look of horror crossed his face when he witnessed a beefy defensive lineman from the opposing team break through and recover the fumble. The game was over in an instant.

  Jessica covered her mouth with her hand as her eyes welled with tears. The moment was shocking, forever captured on film to replay over and over. Something had gone terribly wrong. The confetti cannons erupted as the Pittsburgh Steelers proclaimed victory in the end zone, the stunned 49ers dazed and confused. Tim fell to his knees on the field, his chest heaving. Everyone witnessing the dreadful loss that day had to know the agony he was feeling at that moment. There was no consoling an athlete after something like that.

  Jessica continued to scroll and landed on several locker room interviews shortly after the devastating loss. A somber, clean-cut version of Tim was trapped in the incandescent camera lights at the end of three-dozen microphones. His chiseled, beard-free jaw-line was clenched as questions ricocheted one after the other like bullets out of a gun. The rims of his beautiful green eyes were red, as if he’d been crying. Forced to relive every painful play from the game he had lost moments before, Jessica was in awe of his composure. Tim firmly answered question after question about several pivotal seconds in his team’s loss to the Steelers.

  And then he was asked, “How do you feel?” His countenance changed for the first time in the interview, the undeniable pain displayed on his handsome face. He simply stated, “I feel broken. I feel numb.” Noticeable tears streamed down the six-foot-five, 235-pound quarterback’s face and he had to take a moment to gather himself a few times. Jessica couldn’t help it when her own tears left a wet trail down her cheeks.

  She clicked on another interview dated a month after the infamous Super Bowl loss. Tim was announcing his early retirement from the sport he had dedicated his life to. He sat at a table with numerous microphones assembled in front of him, the 49ers logo on full display behind him. The early onset of a scruffy beard was noticeable on his face, and his short, golden hair was mussed. His eyes displayed a profound sadness, the mood in the room, heavy.

  “I’ve known anger and disappointment this past month as I’m sure all of you have too. Some of you have threatened my life; have disposed of anything related to the team and me. It’s unfortunate. My teammates don’t deserve that. I take full responsibility for the Super Bowl loss. This was my fault. Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t want your pity. I will forever hold a deep love and respect for my teammates and the great San Francisco 49ers franchise. I have felt a huge responsibility for my city’s stifled aspirations in winning the Super Bowl title. The bottom line is, I don’t have my shit together—as a player, as a man, as a leader. It’s time for me to bow out. For the record, American sports will break your heart. I’m sorry I broke yours.”

  Jessica shook her head. Her own heart hurt seeing the larger-than-life athlete turned shattered man on national television. No wonder he left town. Fans could be so cruel. But to threaten a man’s life because of a loss? She couldn’t fathom that kind of life living in fear, the humiliation Tim probably felt, unbearable.

  Scrolling through years of interviews pre-Super Bowl, Tim came off as a confident and strong professional. He was the quintessential all-American, clean-cut quarterback everyone admired. His popularity was unfathomable, and he was often photographed with a famous female celebrity or supermodel on his arm. Jessica could feel her confidence dwindle as she gazed at paparazzi photos of him in the company of such gorgeous, famous women. His life had definitely been lived in a fishbowl for all the world to see. Leaving behind a world of success and celebrity had to have been an agonizing decision. Was he happier now? Did he have regrets? Was he going to live in the shadow of his former self for the rest of his life behind his bearded face, long hair and his mother’s name?

  Jessica shifted in her chair and yawned, her emotions depleted as she quietly slipped into bed next to her sleeping children. Her life was simple compared to Tim’s, her goal to raise her daughters to the best of her ability. If she were to continue to see him and his identity were to become exposed, where would that leave her and the girls? Would they be safe? Should she take a chance for once in her life and live outside her comfort zone?

  Images of Tim’s emotional face during the interviews after the Super Bowl swirled in her mind as she drifted off to sleep. He had given up so much for his peace of mind. There would always be someone out there pointing at him, reminding him of the worst moment in his life. It wasn’t fair, but it was part of the game he had committed to. He was once a king in the industry, idolized and worshiped. Now, he was spurned and disgraced. He was a beast living in the woods, hiding from the angry mob. It was a tale as old as time.

  ***

  “What do you mean he’s not who he says he is?” Elizabeth questioned as she sat at the kitchen island while the girls animatedly squealed and played all around them.

  “I can’t tell you exactly,” Jessica replied while pulling sandwich fixings out of the large fridge.

  “That makes absolutely no sense.”

  Jessica’s daughter Jill interrupted, showing Elizabeth a Barbie doll with red lips, distracting her for a few seconds. Her friend had red lips today and was dressed to the nines in a pencil skirt and sky-high heels, her blonde hair pinned up in a perfect chignon. How the woman drove her expensive sports car in those shoes, Jessica had no clue.

  “Oh, yes Jilly. She’s my favorite. Red lips make a real statement on a woman.” She turned and fixed her gaze on Jessica, her groomed eyebrows cocked with good humor. “Don’t you think so?”

  Jessica slapped a few pieces of deli-turkey on the bread. “Sure, as long as it’s Chanel.”

  Elizabeth bent toward the child and ran her crimson fingernails through her golden curls. “Spoken like a true Southern lady.”

  Jilly ran off, leaving the two women to continue their conversation. Elizabeth interlaced her fingers neatly on the granite and arched her back, leaning forward on the bar stool. “Now, where were we?”

  Jessica shook her head and neatly cut the sandwiches into triangles, setting them on individual plates. “You need to trust me, Elizabeth. He’s a good guy. When he says I can talk about it, believe me, I will.”

  “Now, that is not fair Jessica Lynn! I tell you everything! Who exactly is this guy and what has he done to my best friend?”

  Jessica couldn’t help but smile and blush, reminiscing for a quick second about Tim’s flaming lips on hers. She didn’t want to keep secrets from her friend, but Tim insisted she not tell anyone who he was. It would be so easy to tell Elizabeth everything. To tell her how rich and famous Tim Ryan really was. It might even be a relief to get it off her chest, not that his secret was a burden per se. But wanting to honor his request, she kept her mouth shut.

  “There’s that look again! I hate it that you’re keeping something big from me.” She folded her arms across her designer blouse and pouted.

  “I have to, Elizabeth. It’s for his well-being. I promised I wouldn’t let the cat out of the bag until he gave me the green light. You’re gonna have to trust me on this one.” She placed the plates in front of each barstool and started to cut up an apple she grabbed out of a large fruit bowl.

  “Humph,” Elizabeth sighed. “Do you mind if I ask a few random questions and you give me some hints? My mind is going all sorts of crazy.”

  Jessica rolled her eyes. “I suppose…”

  With newfound energy, Elizabeth sat erect and licked her lips. “Is he a good kisser?”

  A giggle erupted out of Jessica’s mouth, her friend’s first question, easy. “Yes. Very.”

  “Good! You deserve a good kisser after being married to Mr. Thin Lips for so long.”

  “Elizabeth!” Jessica admonished, even though h
er comment was accurate.

  “Is he really a gardener?”

  Jessica furrowed her brow, not sure how to answer. “Yes?”

  “Hmmm… trick question. He’s a gardener now, but was he one before?”

  Chewing on her lower lip, Jessica turned her back on her friend and put the paring knife she’d been using in the sink. Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, she contemplated her answer before turning around and nodding. “Tim lived on an almond farm in California.”

  “Oooo, California—so he’s not from around here?”

  Jessica shook her head. “No.”

  “Is his name Tim?”

  “Yes,” Jessica blurted confidently.

  “Last name, McGill?”

  Jessica bit her lip again and changed the subject. “Are you almost done with the inquisition? The girls need to eat and don’t you have a fancy luncheon to get to? You know I’m not going to tell you everything right now.”

  “Okay, okay. Just one more,” Elizabeth interrupted. She stared right at Jessica with laser beam focus. “Does Mr. Tim whose last name isn’t really McGill have money?”

  Jessica could feel her chest rise as she inhaled slowly. She didn’t have to confirm or deny the question because her friend already knew without an audible answer.

  “Bingo,” she whispered, demurely touching her nose with her index finger. She winked before getting up. “I’m leaving girlies! Say goodbye to your Auntie Elizabeth!”

  Jennifer, Jill, and Julia squealed and surrounded the woman hugging her legs. As Elizabeth hugged and patted them on their fair heads, she looked over at Jessica one last time. “For the record, I’m relieved. When you’re ready to tell me more, you just let me know!”

  Chapter Ten

  “Would you like to take some more roses today?” Mrs. McDonald asked Tim as she poured him a second glass of sweet tea. An unexpected storm had popped up in the late afternoon, the air thick with humidity and the rumbling of thunder.