by Yvette Hines
Her laugh was raspy. “You know that doesn’t have to be the first thing you ask me.”
There was an ache in his heart. The Miami Thunders were not the only family he had. There was his older sister, Kylie. Over the last year she’d been in and out of the hospital. She’d been diagnosed with Type-1 Diabetes since she was three and had struggled with it ever since. A lot of her complications started with non-compliance on her part. She had been a teenager when their parents, who were in their sixties died in a helicopter crash off a small Caribbean Island, anniversary trip. Kylie, at sixteen and him four, had been sent to live with their uncle, their dad’s younger brother. His sister had gone into a depression for years and slacked in monitoring her insulin and her food intake.
Over the years, she’d been in and out of the hospital and mental health facilities. With the distance in their ages his sister had been more like a mother to him. When she wasn’t sick, she drove him to practice, attended his games and supported him. She was the reason he’d forgone the last two years of college and entered the draft. He wanted to be the one taking care of her.
With enough money to make sure his sister had the best healthcare in his rookie year, Kylie had gotten much better. She’d even fallen in love and married for a short time, which didn’t work out in the long run. He’d worried she would spiral back into depression but she’d made it through the horrible break up.
“Sorry. How’s work?”
“Good, good. I have a few big projects I’m working on at the plant. Since the ammonia explosion two years ago it has really been pretty hectic.” Her voice was raspy, weighted.
“I don’t know why you never let me move you down to Miami with me.” He rubbed his temple. He’d asked his sister repeatedly to come live with him, or at least in the same city.
“Donnie, Sioux City is home. I wouldn’t know what to do with all that sunshine and no corn fields around.” There was a constant hum of machines behind her, letting him know she must be calling from the plant break room. “Besides, you need a life. Why I don’t have any nieces and nephews yet, I don’t know.”
He leaned his head back against the headrest. This was an ongoing discussion between them. “I’ll get around to it eventually.”
“You can’t tell me you’re single from the lack of women around you. I watch the sports news and hear about what goes on with you pros,” she teased.
“Yeah,” he uttered, not truly answering. His mind played back to a captivating woman he’d met, rather kissed, a week ago. Jo’el. All he knew was her first name, the color of her beautiful eyes and the taste of her lips. He’d gone a lot further with other women but could barely recall anything about them. Why her?
It was the same thing he kept asking himself every time he thought about her. Which was more often than he had the time for.
“Donnie?”
“I’m still here.” He stretched his jaw, the prickly stubble reminding him it was time for him to trim down his facial hair before he was sprouting a full-fledged beard.
“You all should be starting camp soon, right?”
“Yup. Monday after next.” He wasn’t looking forward to it.
“Promise me, no more getting hurt. I think you shaved a few years off my life when you couldn’t walk off the field last fall.”
Me too. “I’m at a hundred and ten percent now. Maybe even better than I’ve been in years. So, I’m going to do my best.”
“I know you will.” Someone called her name in the background. “Look, I have to go. Call me after your first week of camp.”
The rookies would head there in about a week or so to learn the hierarchy of the owners and management as well as the team. Vets showed up after that.
“I will, Kylie.” Their call ended and he started up his truck. It was his uncle’s vehicle. The same one he’d learned to drive in around the farm. A tractor handled different in the field than a car did on the road.
He’d put a lot of work into it over the years. It practically had a brand new engine along with new upholstery on the bench seat and was painted, the same mint green. His uncle had passed away years ago, and this truck and his sister were the only things that declared his history. His roots. Where he was from.
Then there was football.
~YH~
Pacing her condo office, Jo’el ran through the information she’d learned about the Miami Thunder and the new post-pro program. She’d started to study the game of football yesterday after her talk with Stosch but had decided against it after two hours of confusion. She didn’t know one position over the other. Besides they were not looking for her to talk football with the players but finances. So, she altered her preparation and just worked on the right words to convince Dare why her firm should take on the financial advising and hopefully management of their program.
Her phone rang from the corner of her desk. Still running her company stats through her mind as she crossed the carpet and reached for her cell. She was happy to see Marcy’s face appear and not another co-worker. She’d taken the day off for this meeting. After she saw Ian she planned to go into the office and brief her boss, even though he wouldn’t be expecting to see her until tomorrow. All she could hope for was a good delivery.
“Hi, Marcy.”
“You ready?” Her sister’s voice was full of cheer, which wasn’t out of the ordinary. Marcy had been a cheerleader all through elementary school and on a community league through college. Her sister was athletic but smart as well, Marcy was a registered nurse at Miami Children’s Hospital.
“I hope so.” She sat in her desk chair feeling the tension in her stomach. “Why I’m even doing this I don’t know.”
“Because you’re the best of the best.”
Jo’el laughed at her sister’s imitation of Will Smith in Men in Black. “I needed that. Thanks.” She exhaled.
“You have this, Jo’el. Give them what you know.”
“That’s all I can do.” All day she pushed toward making the numbers applicable to someone that wasn’t in the financial business. She was sure Ian Dare would comprehend her analysis jargon, but he’d need to know she could speak to his players and not talk over their heads.
“If you want me to I can put a good word in to Madison for you when she gets back.”
“No. Don’t say anything, please.” She’d told Marcy that last night when she’d called her and told her about the impromptu meeting with Mr. Stosch and what he’d said. When her sister discovered that the team was the Thunders and it was Madison’s program Marcy had offered to talk to her old co-worker. However, Jo’el always preferred to do things on her own. Besides, she barely knew Madison. Yes, she was a friend of her sister’s, Madison had allowed Marcy to bring her to the bachelorette bar crawl, but in no way did she believe that was going to give her an in.
“Okay. I will keep my lips sealed.”
“Thank you, Marcy.”
“All right, sis, call me after.”
“Will do.” Disconnecting the line, she stared down at her notes. Instead of looking over them again, she just gathered everything up and placed it in her leather portfolio. She couldn’t stop her mind from running the information, but she was headed to the shower. It was time for her to get ready then head to the Thunder Dome.
She walked out of her office and headed to her bedroom sending up a quick prayer that she wouldn’t sound like a damn idiot.
Chapter Three
Jo’el had never been to the Thunder Dome, for anything, and she admitted to herself the place was impressive. She had been directed to the executive area where offices for staff that handled the business side of the football team were housed. It wasn’t an area for fans who wanted to come watch the game or be a part of the experience or even reporters. The pictures in this area were professionally framed, no larger than life banners or promotion slogans, of players and the team. Every large frame anchored on the walls was significant, MVP players, Hall of Famers, past and present Thunder franchise presidents, I
an Dare’s picture hung there, along with the current general manager.
She was awed. The display was meant to impress, she was impressed. It was more remarkable than the firm where she worked.
Finally, she arrived at an expansive, but professional, desk at the end of the hall where a woman with the name Gail etched into the desk plaque sat.
“Hello.”
The woman glanced up from her work and greeted her with a smile. “May I help you?”
“Yes. Jo’el Gifford from Stosch, Morgan and Stosch for an eleven with Mr. Dare.” She informed her, offering the woman a small smile in return even though her stomach felt as if six hundred bees had turned it into a hive and were buzzing around inside.
“He’s expecting you.” The secretary reached for her phone. “I’ll let him know you’re here. You can have a seat in the waiting area.”
Thanking her, Jo’el pivoted and sat in a small area that had various sports magazine’s on a side table before a clear water cooler that had a lemon and lime infuser in it. She was sure the refreshing beverage display was compliments of the receptionist, not Mr. Dare. While she waited, she ran over what she knew about Ian Dare, the team president. She’d researched the man and the team yesterday evening. The man’s family life was quiet convoluted with a cheating father that had two families. Ian came from the man’s first marriage and he had two brothers and two sisters. When she saw the picture of Ian’s wife, she was able to put a little more than two plus two equals four together from the bachelorette party a little more than a week ago. His sister’s had been there, Avery and Olivia, but his wife Riley was pregnant and had been by default their designated sober brain for the night. Madison her sister’s friend had been the bride-to-be and she was married to one of Ian’s half-brothers, Alex Dare. It shocked Jo’el to discover that Madison and Alex led the new post-career program.
“They sure like to keep it all in the family.” She whispered to herself. That piece of knowledge didn’t make the nervous activity in her stomach settle down at all. Why would they choose me?
Because you know your stuff and you’ll prove it to him. She offered, giving herself a pep talk as the door opened and a polished woman came strolling out. The clipped sharpness to her voice made Jo’el think she was a reporter. If the woman was a reporter, it would be sports and Jo’el was only familiar with financial news. As the woman turned to leave, her investigative gaze took in everything around her in one fell swoop.
Always looking for a story.
They parted and the tall dark haired man walked toward her in a gray suit. He held his hand out to her. “Ms. Gifford?”
“Yes.” She rose and accepted the brief shake. “Call me Jo’el.”
“Ian. This way, please.” As he stepped back, his dark blue eyes, sharp as the woman’s had been seemed to take in everything about her.
Following him, she had an uneasy feeling wondering if she measured up. To what?
“Take a seat.” He closed the door behind her.
Thanking him, she gravitated toward one of the chairs across from his wide expansive desk. The design of it rivaled their partners at the accounting firm. “I had the pleasure of meeting your wife, a little over a week ago.”
The smile on his face made his eyes appear brighter, and love shone in them. He took his seat behind the desk. “Riley’s out of the office today. Where did you meet her?”
“Um…Madison’s bachelorette party. My sister used to work with her.”
“Ah, the bar crawl night.” He tipped his head back and chuckled. “I got an earful that night.”
Heat rose from her neck into her face. Jo’el wondered for a moment if part of the husband and wife pillow talk included the drunk kissing idiot, featuring Jo’el Gifford. She wished now she had not brought it up. To him it probably sounded as if she were trying to make a lame connection to win him over.
“Well, congratulations on the coming baby.” Time to end the conversation.
“Thank you.” If it was possible for the man’s face to light up even more, it did then. “I will say, Jo’el I’m shocked to meet you.”
Halting in the process of opening her portfolio, she met his gaze over the desk. “Why is that? Mr. Stosch told me he’d set up an appointment.” Besides Gail, Ian’s secretary had confirmed at her arrival that he was expecting her.
“Mr. Stosch and I did discuss me meeting with one of his financial managers. The FM is top in his firm who could analyze numbers superbly that could bring my players, potential clients for your firm, the best advantage with their money.”
Warmth seeped around the buzzing bees in her belly and calmed them and her back straightened with pride. “That’s me. Forgive me but I’m not understanding your confusion.”
“Simple. I thought you were a man.” His hands were resting calmly on the arms over his chair, he held her gaze without a blink.
Was he misogynistic? Did he only like working with other men? Was it because he used to be a football player? She pushed those thoughts aside, both Riley and Madison worked with him in top-level capacity. Hell even his fruit infusing receptionist seemed to enjoy her job.
Her hands squeezed at the edges of her folder. At the firm where she was employed, she was the only person in her position and there were no women above her. Numbers had been a male dominated field for so long, that most women had to fight harder to prove their worth. She’d cracked the glass ceiling at SMS and she planned to go through it and make partner. “You still have the advantage over me.”
“Calm yourself. It was the way he said your name, Joel. I’m positive that he never used a gender specific pronoun.”
She relaxed at his words. “I’m sure, he likes to tell me often that I’m one of his best guys. I always took it in the general sense like mankind. Sorry, if you feel misled.”
“It doesn’t matter to me. I just want the best person for the job. Madison and Alex feel the same way.” He rolled forward and folded his hands on the desk.
“Will they be joining us? I thought they would be here since it is their program.”
“Still honeymooning. So, tell me what you’ve got.”
“Let me start by saying I do know that Stosch, Morgan and Stosch are not the only offer for this position on the table. Atkins in New York is a good money guy, but local is always better.”
“You do your research. I like that.” He inclined his head toward her.
Accepting the nod of approval she went on. “I’m sure that as long as you have been in the business, you’re familiar with players who get taken in by corrupt money managers. Those that take uninformed individuals on a ride that fattens the financial managers’ pockets while the players go bankrupt or end up with barely enough to live on. A staggering number of players hide their funds below their mattresses and attempt to handle it themselves, a great number proving to be unsuccessful at it.”
“You have my attention.” Ian settled into his seat.
Opening to her notes she began. Through the course of her talk, Ian asked intelligent follow-up questions, proving that he was up to date on the market as a whole.
Twenty minutes later, she stopped and waited for him. Leaning back in his chair, he tapped the tip of his pen against the tablet he’d used to take notes through her proposal. After a few moments, he looked across the desk at her, as if he were assessing her in some way.
Longer minutes stretched before he rose. “Jo’el. I think you have a winning argument here. You know your stuff in a way that I’ve never heard someone else talk about the managing of funds and how it can bring return for my players.” He perched on the corner of his desk.
The space between them was spacious enough that she didn’t feel crowded at all with his close proximity.
“Thank you. My mother used to say that after the doctor spanked me I called out one….counting even from birth.” Growing up, it had just been her mother, her sister and herself. The three of them had been close. Her mother a two job working parent, which left Marcy t
o raise Jo’el most of the time, but she still admired her mom. Debra Gifford had been one of her first clients out of graduate school. She took her mother’s small savings and made sure she never had to work again.
“I’m sure she’s right.” He pressed his palms at his sides on the desk. “There’s just one problem.”
She frowned. “What’s that?”
“You.”
“Me?” Her toes flexed in her shoes, she wanted to rise and confront Ian Dare on a more even level.
“Yes. I mean no offense, Jo’el.” Folding his arms over his chest, he remained calm, steady. “Have you ever been around players before, professional football players?”
Nervous, she tightened and twisted her lips. “Well…no, but money is all the same no matter the person.”
He chuckled. “However, getting to handle that money for these guys is a whole different ball game. Excuse the pun.” His sharp gaze took her in from head to toe, nothing salacious, almost in the sterile manner in which she looked at numbers. “If you wanted to talk to them, you’re going to have to be someone that gets their attention from the moment you walk in.”
“Well, if we set up a meeting for them, they’ll know I’m coming to discuss—”
“No. They may show up if I mandate it or they are already there for Madison and Alex’s program, but as soon as you step forward you’ve lost them.”
“Why is that?” This man seemed to be talking on a different level in some way. She was hearing him, but not comprehending his point at all. Normally, she considered herself be a person with high mental acuity, but she could sport the dunce cap right now.
“The way you look.”
She wasn’t sure if the Thunders’ president was making a point about her mixed heritage. After closing her portfolio, she slowly got to her feet. “Mr. Dare. I’m going to need you to get to your point. Quick.”
“Let me make it plain. You may be smart. Possibly the best person to manage the players, hell anyone’s finances. However, players don’t care about all that. They are men in all aspects of that word. Visual to the core. They see something they like and they want it. Buy it, fuck it, own it.”