It wasn’t funny to me. She posted topless pictures that my star receiver had already drooled over, and God knows what else was out there. I wanted to win another Lombardi trophy before I retired while she had bounced around Europe on her daddy’s dime. I wanted to prove that I could make it to the top more than once in my career, that it wasn’t a fluke.
Crafting a perfectly constructed social media presence was how she lived her life, and I would do anything to avoid that kind of bullshit veneer.
I wanted to play football. I wanted to win. And I wanted to do it without distractions and games and circuses surrounding the team. Let our performance do the speaking.
Allie’s bright gaze briefly tangled with mine, and I refused to blink or look away. Her smile grew strained for just a moment, but then she visibly brightened. As if she refused to let me ruin this for her.
“When I was looking through some of my father’s files, I found a scrap of paper with his handwriting on it.” She held up her hand, and even from my spot a few rows back, I could see the frayed, torn edges. Allie stared at it for a second, and there wasn’t a single sound in the room while we waited to hear what it said.
“In times of difficulty, those brave enough to stay the course will be victors in the end,” she read in a firm, clear voice. She glanced up. “Does anyone know who said that?”
I knew. Of course, I knew. Jack looked at me, clearly surprised I wasn’t answering.
“Bo Schembechler,” someone said from the front row, referencing the famous Michigan coach. A veritable institution for anyone like me who played at The Big House, who understood the weight of his name among the hallowed ranks of college football coaches.
Allie smiled at him. “That’s right.” Again, she looked down at the paper before carefully folding it up and curling it into the palm of her hand. “Before I found this paper, I wasn’t sure whether I would accept this position, whether I would keep the team. And I’m not telling you this so you’ll doubt my commitment; I’m telling you this so you can trust that I’ll be honest with you when it’s important.” Her voice got louder, and her chin lifted as the energy in the room made a palpable shift. Something that rose in a sharp crescendo and split through the room like a charge. I could see it take shape in how they were nodding, listening intently to what she was saying.
She smiled, clearly seeing what I was. “I’m choosing to be brave enough to trust my father’s decisions, to trust that all of us can work together to stay the course and be victors in the end. If you’re brave enough to trust someone who has a lot to learn, who won’t be afraid to ask for help, then I believe we can do incredible things.”
“Hell yeah, we can,” Dayvon said from behind me. Allie laughed along with everyone else. Except me. An irritating swell of something pushed through me. It wasn’t admiration, not exactly. But in less than fifteen minutes, she had this entire room eating out of her hand. When I glanced around, my teammates were nodding their head, smiling, some even clapping.
No, admiration wasn’t the right word. A grudging admission that I’d underestimated her was certainly part of it. A muted shock that I seemed to be the only one who felt uncomfortable in how this was playing out.
Maybe none of them had spoken to Robert about her. Maybe none of them would view that conversation with the same stomach-sinking gravity that I had as a single father myself. I wouldn’t be the one to tell them, but I’d sure as hell keep my eye on her, for whatever good it might do.
While Allie exchanged a few smiles and a laugh with some of the linebackers in the front row, one of the women from the PR department went up to the front of the room.
“Okay, guys, just a few things and then we’ll let Coach take over. We’re going to wait another day or so before issuing a press release about the transfer in ownership because we’d like Allie to feel a bit more comfortable before the media gets hold of this story.” She smiled, and it reminded me of a shark baring its jagged, knife-like teeth. “And believe me, this is a story that will be everywhere. We’re working with Allie and Cameron to make sure this gets us as much positive attention as possible, so if any reporters reach out to you, catch you after practice, whatever, we’re incredibly excited for the new direction that Allie brings to the Wolves while maintaining the strong working relationships that Robert forged over the past twenty years.” She looked around. “Any questions?”
Oh, I had questions. But since most of them involved some variation of are we done now, I kept my mouth shut and waited for Allie, William, and the PR chick to leave. As soon as Allie cleared the door, I finally felt like I could pull a full breath into my lungs.
It should have been a warning that I couldn’t breathe properly when she was around. But I ignored it. Focused on football. That was the only thing I needed to worry about. Everything else would blow over eventually.
8
Allie
Paige: TELL ME ALL THE THINGS! Did you survive? Are there hot players?
Paige: Of course, there are hot players. Not that you can do anything about it. You’ll get sued for sexual harassment and abuse of owner power or something.
Paige: OH! And what did you wear? I hope the red suit. Your rack looks insane in that red suit.
Paige: I wish I had your boobs. I’ve never been so jealous of a DD in my life as I am of you.
Paige: WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME?
Me: OH MY WORD. I was peeing. Calm down.
Paige: ...
Paige: Don’t you take your phone into the bathroom with you? What does peeing have to do with anything?
I rolled my eyes and settled into the striped chaise lounge, adjusting the top on my blue one piece before responding to her. Paige was ... for lack of a better term, in a serious relationship with technology. Her phone was her boyfriend. And a healthy relationship, it was not. I was surprised her thumbs hadn’t fallen off by now.
Me: No, I wore the black cigarette pants, the white Michael Kors blouse, and the red jacket from that store we found right before I came back.
Paige: Hmm. Satisfactory. I still think you should’ve done the red suit.
Me: Probably not an appropriate choice, considering the amount of cleavage it shows. I WAS meeting the players for the first time.
Paige: I fail to see the problem. I would totally switch teams for you when you wear that.
My laugh felt foreign on my lips because it was genuine and unforced, and outside of whatever meetings I’d been attending, I’d been alone at home with all my football binders. No one, outside of Joy and the lawyers and Luke, knew that I was living in the lake house, and since the press release about me taking over the team went out, the sports world had exploded with the idea of a twenty-six-year-old woman owning a football team she inherited from her father.
It felt easier to hide out than try to come up with a succinct statement about how it was going, or how I felt about it. The truth was that I still didn’t exactly know. Speaking to the team was the most comfortable I’d felt since this whole crazy thing started because I’d been met with smiles and welcome and warmth, and several of them went out of their way to introduce themselves once the meeting was over. Everyone I’d met had been polite and respectful, supportive.
Except, I thought with a slight glare at the blue house next door, Luke effing Pierson. During the whole meeting, he watched me like I was a ticking time bomb. Not once did he smile. Not once did he look at me with any hint of warmth on his chiseled face.
And what absolutely pissed me off was how quickly I’d searched him out in the room of large, imposing, handsome men. He certainly wasn’t the only one with broad muscular shoulders. And he certainly wasn’t the only tall, good-looking man in the room. There were many of them in there.
But his were the only eyes that I felt burning through the clothes covering my body.
“Get him out of your head right now,” I said out loud. I blew out a breath and adjusted my sunglasses. It was a beautiful day with cloudless sapphire skies and enough breeze in
the air so lying out in the sun wasn’t stifling. It came off the lake and crossed my yard, bringing with it the sounds of boats, laughter, and some music coming from somewhere far in the distance.
What I needed was a distraction.
Stacked on the ground next to my chair were more binders that Joy had given me. I’d read them the day before until my eyes started crossing, but it was all helpful. Overwhelming, but helpful. Thankfully, I wouldn’t have to concern myself with most of the details.
There was a CFO who worried about the money. A manager who worried about the talent. A president who worried about ... everything else. The truth was that my father had spent the past twenty years hiring people who knew their shit.
He was the figurehead, but they ran the team and ran it well. My main concern was making sure that the Wolves didn’t suffer because of my surprise presence. I knew as well as anyone that the media could spin many tales, as long as they got people to tune in, and I wanted to keep the players from resenting me.
I leaned over and grabbed the binder that held the team roster. Joy had each player, each coach, and each coordinator sectioned off with brightly colored tabs for easy reference. I flipped page by page, looking at their picture and saying their name and position out loud. Some of the faces I recognized from the meeting, but most I didn’t. Of course, they’d all been at the funeral, but most of that day was a blur of handshakes and air kisses, condolences and black suits and the numb realization that I had no living parents.
I finished looking at the page for Jack Coleman, a smiling guy who I recognized as the one sitting next to Luke at the meeting. The wide receiver from Michigan State had been with the team for two years. His numbers could’ve been impressive, or they could have been shit; I really had no idea. His smile was wide and carefree in his picture, and I found myself smiling back.
Idly, I flipped to the next page and froze. Luke’s image smiled up at me.
Smiled.
That smile did weird tummy-flipping things to me.
It was a small smile, no teeth showing, but it was so foreign that I stared open-mouthed. Honestly, it did such spectacular things to his face that it wasn’t freaking fair. The man could’ve been a model. But like one of those rugged, non-pretty boy models.
Feigning the same casual interest that I’d read the other files with, I skated my finger down the line. Luke Michael Pierson from the University of Michigan. Third-round draft pick twelve years earlier. He was the backup quarterback his first year with the team. During the second game of his second season, the starting quarterback ruptured his Achilles’ tendon, and Luke took over with the ease of a veteran QB.
They won the Super Bowl that year and hadn’t been back since.
A noise from the hedges made me snap the binder shut because I would be damned if he caught me staring at his picture like a heart-eyed teenager. When I looked over, though, it wasn’t Luke who I saw; it was a flash of bright pink and a purple T-shirt among the leaves.
The little girl didn’t move again until I looked away, then I heard another rustle of leaves. This time, I could see her face, big brown eyes and long brown braids hanging on either side of her face.
Tapping my thumb against the binder in my lap, I thought about my options. Luke told me to stay away from his daughter, but that was when he thought I was a football groupie or something, coming to offer myself up as a bodily sacrifice.
Snort. Give me a break.
Now, we were co-workers, for better or for worse.
I slid my sunglasses to the top of my head and squinted over at her. “Hey. You doin’ a little landscaping in there?”
She giggled and pushed her way into my yard, face flushed and smile wide. “No, I’m not allowed to help with the yard yet. My daddy mows the lawn.”
I looked down my nose in her direction. “Your dad does? Wouldn’t you guys, like, pay someone to do that?”
Her face turned serious. “He said as long as he has working legs and two hands, there’s no reason to pay someone for something he can do himself.”
Huh. That was ... not what I was used to.
“Oh, okay. Well ... good for him.” I smiled at her, at the way she watched me like I was a unicorn that had just pranced in front of her. Kids were like a strange little alien species to me. None of my friends had kids, and I had no nieces or nephews to hang out with. So I figured I might as well treat her the way I wanted to be treated when I was her age. As if I mattered. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Faith Pierson.” She puffed out her chest. “I’m six and a half.”
I nodded sagely. “That’s a good age.”
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Allie.” When I held my hand out for her to shake it, I thought she might burst open from the force of her smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You too, Miss Allie.”
“How’d you break your arm?”
She let out a heavy sigh and walked closer to my chair. “I fell off the monkey bars.”
“Ouch.” I gestured for her to show me her cast, and she held it out. When I saw Luke’s signature and a couple of other players’ too, I smiled. Gripped in the skinny fingers of her other hand, I spied a small black marker. She saw me looking at it and opened her mouth, but she didn’t ask. “Can I sign it?”
I smothered my smile when Faith nodded excitedly and shoved the marker into my waiting hands. Very gently, I held her cast in one hand and found an empty spot up by her wrist to scrawl my signature.
“Wow,” she breathed. “That’s the prettiest writing I’ve ever seen.”
“You know,” I started, very aware that Luke would be furious for me digging. Digging. Asking. Whatever. He could suck it. “I saw you wave at me through the slider. I wanted to come over and say hi. Maybe meet your daddy and mommy.”
I held my breath when she looked up at me. Okay, fine, it was shameless digging. But come on, what guy looked the way he did, made as much money as he did, had an adorable little girl, and wasn’t attached? If he wasn’t such an asshole, it would be practically a crime against nature.
“You met my daddy,” she said, clearly confused.
“I did. I, umm, I actually work with your daddy too. We just didn’t know it yet when I came over to say hi.”
“Oh, cool! I can’t wait to tell Grandma. She and Grandpa are visiting my aunt Kaylie and my new cousin, but they’ll be back home to take care of me tomorrow because Daddy has to start playing games soon.”
I squinted toward the sun. “Your grandma takes care of you?”
“When I’m not in school, but I’ll be in second grade this year.”
Questions tickled the edge of my tongue, so I clamped that sucker between my teeth to keep from pressing this tiny, cute little child who had no clue why I was asking. Hell, I didn’t know why I was asking.
Liar, liar, pants on fire, I sang in my head. I totally knew why I was asking. I hated how he wrote me off, how he treated me without knowing a single thing about me, and I hated that he was hot and that it bothered me so much.
Naturally, that meant I had to get as much information about him as possible.
“Well, I can’t wait to meet your grandma when she comes back. Is she your daddy’s mom?”
Faith nodded, trailing one finger over the spot I’d signed. “I don’t know my mommy’s mom. She died when I was a baby.”
In my chair, I froze, not sure how to proceed. Good job with the questions, Allie. “I’m sorry to hear that. Your mommy’s mom did?”
She shook her head. “My mommy. I don’t remember her, but Daddy said I have her smile and her laugh.”
And just like that, folks, my heart went kablooey in my chest. I was the biggest asshole in the entire world, thinking I would ask this cute kid a few innocent questions. Unsure of what to say next, I closed my eyes and tried to remember what I felt like when people had asked me about my mom when I was not much more than her age.
“I have my mom’s smile, too,�
� I told her gently. Were my eyes wet? I hadn’t cried once about my father, but Faith’s big brown eyes were absolutely gutting me.
“You do?” she asked. “Is your mommy in heaven like mine?”
I nodded slowly. “She is.”
“Faith?” Luke boomed from the other side of the hedge, panic clear in his deep voice.
“Right here, Daddy! I’m talking to Miss Allie.”
Well, shit. I slid my sunglasses back down like they’d shield me from the incoming wrath of Luke Pierson. Like he had the other night, he shouldered through the hedge with a furious look on his face. When his eyes moved from me to Faith, he visibly gentled.
Kablooey part two, ladies and gentlemen.
“You scared me, turbo. I didn’t know where you were.” He crouched down next to her and cupped her shoulder in one massive hand. “If you want to leave the yard, you have to come and ask.”
“Okay, Daddy.” She beamed at him. For a moment, I tried to remember if I’d ever smiled at my own father like that.
No, I hadn’t because I didn’t think I ever heard the kind of concern in his voice that Luke was showing Faith. In the bright sunshine, I could see the ink covering his arms more clearly. Dates and Roman numerals and a couple of names, all slightly faded like they’d been there for years. Nothing looked new in the way it was printed into his tan, smooth skin.
Stop looking at his skin!
“Can you go back home while I have a quick chat with Miss Allie?” he asked her in a deceptively kind voice.
My stomach sank like a rock, imagining him turning to me and asking what exactly I’d been talking about with his daughter. Slowly, I swung my legs over and sat sideways in a chair, using the striped towel on the ground to cover my shoulders. Before he stood, Luke’s eyes flickered to my bare legs, and I very much wished I hadn’t seen them do that because now I felt naked.
The Bombshell Effect Page 7