Pete Sebastian, Coach

by Jean C. Joachim

  It was hard to part with her pooch at the kennel. It was only for a couple of days, but the house seemed empty without the clicking of the little claws and the snoring of a sleeping pug. Jo lay down on the bed. She’d had a restless few hours, trying to sleep without Pete and Daisy. She’d placed her engagement ring on the nightstand, but her hand didn’t feel right without it.

  As she often did with unwanted emotion, Jo stuffed it down inside, hoping it would simply go away. But the pain of Pete’s betrayal only grew. Tears threatened. Sleepless and angry, she wrote her resignation. Handing it in and cleaning out her office hurt her heart.

  Because she couldn’t sleep, she’d written it at five o’clock and delivered it at six. The offices had been quiet and empty. She’d stopped to look at Coach Bass’s before she left. His presence was in those four walls. From the pictures of his twins to the trophies and awards to the vague scent of him, Pete Sebastian owned that space.

  Tears threatened again when she touched the things on his desk and ran her hand over the back of his large chair. How she loved that man. And now what? She shook her head. For once, the brilliant Josephine Parker had no answer. Could she forgive him? Would he do it again? Could she trust him? Lots of questions, but no answers.

  She returned home to toss the last few odds and ends into her valise in preparation for her trip. Then, Jo checked her phone.

  It showed six unanswered calls from him. The man gives up quickly. She had nothing to say, though her heart ached. Her life had been torn apart, and every instinct told her to run. That’s why she had called Sam.

  But Jo had never had anything to stay and fight for before. This dilemma was new. For the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to do. So, she did what she always did—she made plans to leave. A fresh start, she’d always told herself, was the answer. But was it this time?

  The tooting of the horn on the limousine interrupted her thoughts. She went to the door and waved at the driver. A splash of water on her face then she grabbed her bag, skipping down the steps to the waiting vehicle.

  Jo dialed Beth. As the car headed toward the highway, her friend picked up.

  At the sound of her voice, Jo broke down. It’s what she needed—a sympathetic ear.

  “What’s the matter? Jo? Are you all right?” Beth’s frightened tone came over the phone.

  Now that the tears had started, Jo couldn’t turn them off. She tried to stop the trembling and crying.

  Again her friend spoke. “Jo! Talk to me!”

  Fishing a tissue from her purse, Jo mopped her face. After a deep breath, she was able to speak. “Beth. Beth. I’m okay.”

  “You don’t sound okay.”

  “Just a broken heart.”

  “Oh, no! What happened? You were so happy.”

  As the car pulled onto the turnpike, Jo told her story. Beth was sympathetic and advised her friend not to do anything rash. But of course, that was too late. She had left her resignation. Next was returning the engagement ring.

  She hadn’t left it in Pete’s office, she told herself, because it was worth a lot of money and she didn’t want it to be stolen. But only Edie came to the office before Pete. The ring wouldn’t have been stolen if she’d left it on his chair. She couldn’t admit that to herself. She’d placed the ring back in the box and kept it in her jacket pocket. As she talked with Beth, she closed her fingers over it.

  “You’re not going to break your engagement, are you?”

  “How can I marry Pete after this? Besides, if I get the job, I’m moving to Minnesota.”

  “When are you going to stop running away, Jo?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rumors flew around the offices and the locker room of the Connecticut Kings. Pete had gone to her house, but it was empty, even though her car was there. No dog barking when he hit the doorbell either. Where is she? What if something happened to her? She lives alone. Daisy would be barking.

  His imagination ran wild. He called the police. They assured him they’d break in if no one heard from her in one more day. He sent a text message to Jo and finally got a response.

  Not dead. Out of town. Have nothing to say.

  He was relieved she was okay, but still frustrated he couldn’t speak with her. His daughters arrived home and asked about Jo. He told them the whole story. He’d never lied to them and wasn’t about to start now.

  Pete needed to concentrate. He had a game coming up with the Montana Rams. The Rams didn’t have a good record this season, but the coach knew enough to recognize that didn’t mean they couldn’t beat the Kings. They were in a race for the playoffs with the Bobcats and the Sidewinders. Every game counted.

  He couldn’t afford to let his broken heart interfere with pulling the team together and mapping out a winning strategy. He opened a flask and poured a little whisky into his coffee. He needed to calm down before he went to the weekly meeting.

  Friday night was the Christmas party for the shelter families. He was supposed to take Jo as his date. He sent a text, and she agreed to go. Maybe there was still a chance. His heart lifted. He tackled the challenge of beating the Rams with renewed energy.

  A couple of players lingered after the meeting.

  “Hey, Coach, what happened to Jo Parker?” Griff Montgomery asked.

  “Yeah. She’s not around. Her office is cleaned out,” Buddy added.

  “I don’t know, guys.”

  “Emmy’s been trying to reach her, but Jo doesn’t answer.”

  “I think she needs some time alone.”

  Bullhorn Brodsky joined his teammates. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Look, I can’t talk about it. Okay?”

  The men murmured, and then patted the coach on the shoulder, filing out to the field for practice.

  Pete’s phone rang. It was Bill.

  “Hey, brother, how’re you doing?”

  “Fine, Bill. What’s up?”

  “What happened with Jo? Did you do what we discussed?”

  Pete shuffled his feet and shifted his weight. “Not yet.”

  “What the hell are you waiting for? Don’t be an asshole. She’ll find someone else, and it’ll be too late.”

  “It’s already too late, isn’t it?”

  “The human heart has a great capacity for forgiveness. Don’t waste any more time. Man up. Time for the Hail Mary pass. Gotta go.”

  Pete put his cell away. He climbed the stairs and headed for Lyle Barker’s office. Anger and the urge to throw a punch grew inside the coach. “He in?” Pete fisted and un-fisted his hand.

  Edie nodded.

  “Hold his calls for about fifteen minutes.”

  “But I can’t—”

  “I don’t want to be disturbed.”

  She smiled at him. “Go get ’im. He’s got it coming. No physical violence. Blood stains the carpet.”

  Lyle was at his desk with a mug of coffee. “Hey, Pete. How’s it lookin’ for the game with the Rams?”

  “Forget the Rams, Lyle. We need to talk.”

  “If this is about your girlfriend, forget it. She doesn’t work here anymore.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Lyle?” Pete began to pace. “She’s done more for this organization than anyone except me.”

  “Don’t put yourself too high on that list. No one is indispensable,” Lyle said, shifting in his seat.

  “Really? I’m a Super Bowl winning coach. Do you know how many calls from other teams I got after we won?”

  The owner tugged at the collar of his shirt then unbuttoned the top and pulled his tie loose.

  “Don’t want to know, Lyle? I don’t blame you.”

  “You’re staying, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not here to talk about me. I’m here to talk about the way you fucked over my fiancée.”

  “I didn’t touch her.”

  “Come on, Lyle. Stop playing games. You pulled a fast one. You decided because she’s a woman you could probably get by with paying her less. A lot
less.”

  “And it worked. She went for it. This is business. Nothing wrong with that.”

  “Bullshit!” Pete’s fist came down hard on the wooden desktop. The pens, pencils, and coffee mug jumped. Lyle sat back. “What’s fifty grand to you? You’ve got millions. But it’s one third of that asshole Gowan’s pay. It would mean a lot to Jo. You were cheap. Stingy. You fucking son of a bitch. And now you’ve lost the best P.R. person in the NFL. All because you’re a fucking asshole.”

  “Watch it, Pete.”

  “No, Lyle, you watch it. I could walk out of here today and get another job. A better one.”

  “There isn’t a better one.”

  “Don’t change the subject. What the hell are you gonna do about Jo Parker?”

  “What can I do? She quit.”

  “And you’re surprised?”

  “I didn’t think she’d be that unprofessional.”

  “You’re the unprofessional one. Now, she’s gone because you were an idiot.”

  “I repeat—nothing I can do.”

  “Oh yes, there is.”

  “You have an idea?”

  “Damn right I do. And if you want to keep me, then you’ll keep her.”

  “Why didn’t you say something when she first started? I told you then.”

  “Because I was a fucking asshole too.”

  Lyle laughed. “And now you’re in love.”

  “This isn’t about love. This is about what’s fair and good business practices.”

  “Yeah?” Lyle arched an eyebrow.

  “You don’t want to fight a discrimination lawsuit, do you?”

  “She threatened to sue. I told her if she sued, I’d fire you. That stopped her.”

  “You bastard! She’s done with me, so don’t think you’re off the hook. She’ll sue the shit out of you.”

  Lyle paled.

  “That’s right. And it’ll be splashed all over the media because they love her.”

  “Holy fucking shit. Never thought about that.”

  “Maybe you should have when you hired her. You’ve committed sexual discrimination, and you’re gonna pay for it. Fifty thousand? Peanuts compared to what she’ll win in damages. And think of the bad publicity. For weeks. Months!”

  Sweat beaded on Lyle’s forehead.

  “All those calls from college boys and their moms? All gonna go away. Now, the moms are gonna tell their sons not to accept a draft bid from The Kings.”

  Lyle shut his eyes. “Oh, God, no. No scandal. I hate scandal.”

  “You might get thrown out of the league.”

  “You’ve got to save me, Pete. I hate lawsuits. Bad publicity? Fuck.” The owner shuddered.

  “Why should I? You made your own mess. Clean it up yourself.” Pete headed for the door, but Lyle lurched out of his chair to stop the coach.

  “Come on, Pete. Please. You gotta help me. You know her. You can handle her. Make sure she doesn’t sue. I’m begging you.”

  Pete stared. “Okay. But you’ve got to do everything I say.”

  “I will.” Lyle tightened his grip on Pete’s arm.

  “Everything! Without question. Agreed?”

  “Agreed. I promise. Just no lawsuit. No reporters hounding me.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  Lyle dropped his hand and returned to his seat. “When do we start?”

  “Get some food in here and hold all your calls.” Pete opened his shirt and tie then pulled a chair up to Lyle’s desk.

  The owner mopped his face with his handkerchief and buzzed his secretary.

  Bill, this had better work.

  * * * *

  Jo couldn’t believe how fast they got the For Sale sign up in front of her house. No reason to wait. She and Daisy would be driving to Minnesota right after the New Year. The moving company was going to pack all her belongings as soon as she was on the road. All compliments of the Meerkats.

  Jo sighed and stared out the window. Ice lined the bare branches of the trees in her yard, mirroring the coating forming around her heart. She missed the warm touch of Coach Bass. His hands melted frigid air and warmed her body and soul. Nights without Pete’s lovemaking were long and cold. She wasn’t sleeping well and knew it was because he wasn’t beside her, touching her, loving her, kissing her.

  Surprised to find herself still holding the little velvet box with the ring, she carried it from room to room as she completed tasks on her list.

  Opening the closet, she searched for something to wear to the Christmas party for the shelter families. Discarding dress after dress, she took a break, leashed Daisy and pulled on her down coat. She shivered at the thought of the Minnesota winters. But, hey, Connecticut was no picnic either. Daisy trotted to the street and did her business, anxious to return to the warmth of the house.

  After feeding the dog, Jo dug out a black, velvet short, strapless dress she thought fitted the occasion. There was a matching bolero jacket. She slipped it on and added makeup. The party was being held at Emmy and Buddy’s house. Emmy had agreed to put her Emerald hat on and play Christmas carols on her guitar and sing with the kids.

  Jo sat by the window, the little box gripped tightly in her fist. Shattered trust was a deal breaker for Jo. Pete had known she was being taken advantage of and had never said a word. How could she trust him again? He wanted to marry her, but wouldn’t tell her Lyle Barker was cheating her out of a whole lotta money?

  She questioned his reasons for wanting to wed. Is he looking for a bedmate who will help take care of his children he can talk football with and that’s all? Maybe. She gave her head a little shake. That didn’t seem to be true. She’d fallen for Pete. His charming ways, his gallant behavior, his sweetness, his sexiness, and the way he sort of protected her. Except now, when she needed it most.

  A bright beam of headlights coming down the street grabbed her attention. Pete’s car. Jo pushed to her feet, donned her down coat, and plucked her purse from the kitchen counter. She bid farewell to the pug, receiving a wet kiss in return, and opened the door.

  Once tucked into the cozy warmth of the vehicle, she turned to face him. The first thing that struck her about him was the sadness in his eyes. She looked away and thrust her trembling hand forward. “Here. I’ve made up my mind.” The velvet box was warm from her palm.

  Pete looked at it then at Jo. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

  “Can’t be helped. My trust is gone.”

  “One little mistake.”

  “Little? You call that little?”

  “Let’s not fight. It a party tonight. Christmas.” He stuffed the box in his pants pocket.

  “Agreed. Nothing to fight about.”

  He put the car in gear. “I saw the sign. You’re selling your house? Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

  “I’ve taken a job with the Meerkats.”

  Pete hit the brakes, and the car jerked to a halt. “What?”

  “You heard right. I’m going to work for the Meerkats. I leave right after New Year’s.”

  Pete put his forehead down on his hands resting on the steering wheel.

  Jo’s heart flipped. You’ve made him cry! Heartless girl. She touched his forearm. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to live on my savings. I need a job.”

  “I get it. But so far away?”

  “I had a standing offer from Sam.”

  “That letch?”

  “He’s got a girlfriend now. This is only business.”

  “Not for long.”

  Jo looked out the window as Pete lifted his foot from the brake and eased it down on the gas pedal. She sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “You just kicked my guts out.”

  “And you did the same to me.”

  Pulling up at a red light, Pete glanced over at her. “You look fine to me. Like nothing has bothered you at all. In fact, you’re beautiful. Ready for the next man?”

  “Totally wrong, Coach.”

  “You wear heartache well.”

>   “I should. I’ve lived with it long enough.”

  He parked down the street from the Carruthers’ house. “Please, Jo. Give me one more chance.”

  “It’s a party. Can’t we keep it light?”

  “I don’t know how. I’m not like you. If I’m cut, I bleed.”

  “Maybe we can find a quiet place to talk.”

  When they entered the house, all conversation stopped. It seemed as if everyone’s eyes were on the fourth finger of Jo’s left hand. When she removed her gloves, a small sigh rippled through the room. The staring made her blush.

  Pete glanced at his watch. “Come on, it’s almost seven.” He escorted her into Buddy’s den and turned on the television.

  “I’m not here to…”

  He raised his hand, palm flat. “Wait.”

  The local station was playing an old Christmas movie when it was interrupted by a news flash. “Live, from Nutmeg Stadium, a press conference with Lyle Barker,” the announcer said.

  Jo sat on the loveseat, her attention riveted to the screen.

  “I just want to make something clear to our fans, our supporters out there. You’re giving me a lot of credit for our new programs. The anger management and the stuff we’re doing with the women and kids of the New Life Shelter. And I’ve been a bit of a hog about it. Truth is, those programs are the brain children of our awesome public relations vice president, Josephine Parker. Ms. Parker couldn’t be here tonight because she’s running a Christmas party for the shelter kids at one of the player’s homes. That’s who she is. We’re lucky to call her ours. That’s all. Sorry to interrupt your evening. Just had to set the record straight. Merry Christmas, y’all.”

  Jo’s mouth fell open. “Whatever possessed him—” But she was interrupted by the ringing of her phone.

  It was Lyle. “Did you see my press conference?”

  “I did, Mr. Barker.”

  “Does that convince you to come back?”

  “Well, not really. It’s nice to have the credit…”

  “Oh, yeah. Forgot. How about a fifty thousand dollar bonus, paid to you this year? One check. And a raise to two hundred grand starting after the first?”