Father or not, he would have caught these hands… but I still hadn’t ruled Cedrick out.
“I can imagine it wasn’t,” Chloe mused, sympathy clouding her eyes as the server delivered our drinks. “So, I believe I can safely assume that this second item on your list is…?”
#2 – gain father’s respect.
“No longer relevant.”
Chloe nodded. “I’m certainly no behavioral expert, but I recognize toxicity when I see it. Good for you, deciding not to give in to the madness anymore.” She sat back, taking a sip from her sparkling water before she asked, “And the third?”
Nicki.
“I have to admit,” Chloe said, continuing before I responded, “that I thought you were out of your mind. There was no way that the Nicole Richardson I knew would be involved with someone on the team she worked for. But obviously I was wrong about that, which is a rare occurrence for me,” she winked. “Your history together was a well-kept secret, for this day and age.”
“We were low-key back then. Nobody knew my name outside of college football til I hit the NFL, and we weren’t together anymore by then. The internet wasn’t like it is now, and nobody knew to look for it, so… nobody really bothered us about it.”
Facebook and all that shit was still in the early stages when Nicki and I were in college – back when you had to have a college email to even use it. Our relationship was just before the smartphone craze exploded. Instagram didn’t even exist at the time. And, my scout from the Kings had wisely advised me to delete anything I didn’t want dug up from the past, and dragged from the ends of the internet and back.
The footprints of my relationship with Nicki was one of those things.
“Ah,” Chloe nodded. “Small blessings. I know that social media these days can be uniquely… savage. How is Nicole doing?”
I lifted my eyebrows, then let out a sigh. “She’s… managing.”
“Burying herself in work?”
“As much as she can.”
Again, Chloe nodded. “As I expected to hear. Buried in work, or buried in sugar, is usually how we cope with such things. Or both.”
“That sounds like Nicki,” I chuckled. “I’m stopping by Ganache to pick up pastries for her when I leave here.”
“Good. She needs a bit to let herself indulge, and then someone to kick her in the ass, and tell her to get on with it. The world will move on to something else soon enough.”
I laughed. “Note taken. I wanted to ask though – and you can send me a bill for this, whatever – you’re best of the best at this public image thing. Know how to finesse a story, all of that. Is there something you can do to… I wanna say make this shit go away, but I know that’s not really possible, but—”
“Jordan,” Chloe interrupted, “There’s always something I can do. How soon would you like to make it happen?”
“How soon can we make something happen?”
Chloe’s face spread into a wide, determined smile. “Let me make a phone call.”
“Babe, where ya at?!”
I smiled as the sound of Jordan’s voice carried down the hall, into my home office. I looked up from the paperwork on my desk as he appeared in the door, sexy as ever, even with his arm still in a sling.
“Hey,” I grinned, arranging the papers into a neat stack. “How was therapy?”
“Felt a little stronger today,” he said, ambling inside. “Rebecca says hi.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “I keep telling you, don’t get that girl’s ass whooped.”
“I’m messing with you,” he chuckled.
“Oh, I know. But still… don’t get her ass whooped.”
Jordan laughed as he came around the desk, bending for a kiss. “What are you working on?” he asked, and I looked up to meet his eyes.
“Your contract, at Eli’s insistence. I think he’s trying to make me prove I can be unbiased, but I’m not sure I can.”
Jordan cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” I took a deep breath, “That I want to know, on a personal level, if you’re sure about this before I send it back to Margo. You were very insistent on not staying if you didn’t get that ring. What changed your mind?”
We – all the ADPSs – had sent out our formal contract offers at the same time, right after the season ended. They didn’t have to be answered immediately, but we were putting them out there, to give the players consideration time. I’d even stepped outside of being Nicki – Cole Richardson sent Margo Jordan Johnson’s contract offer.
Thirty-five million, revised down because of his injury.
It’s the same thing I would have done with anyone else, knowing that there was no guarantee he’d be the same player after his injury. We were taking a risk on him. Jordan didn’t say anything to me about it, but Margo had shot it back, quickly.
He would remain with the Kings, but he wanted the original fifty.
I was glad to agree to it – thrilled, actually. We wanted him on the team. But after he’d made so much noise about not staying without a ring, I – Nicki –felt unsettled about his immediate acceptance, knowing most contracts weren’t signed until well into spring.
Jordan sighed, then moved back to the other side of the desk to sit down. “It wasn’t that I just changed my mind. My priorities shifted. I wanted that ring so bad because… I guess I wanted to beat my father. Prove I was just as good, possibly even better. Signing this contract is my way of showing – to myself, to Eli, to the team… to you – that I’m off that. This team has rocked with me since the beginning. Molded and developed me. I don’t want to jump ship. I want us to patch up the leak, and go marauding through the NFL waters. And what kind of bullshit would I be on if I left before I had the chance to play with my homeboy for a full season?”
“All salient points,” I nodded, relieved at what I hadn’t heard in his reasoning.
“And you,” he continued, and the air rushed out of my lungs. That was exactly what I didn’t want – but deep down, maybe did want – this to be about.
I shook my head. “You can’t do this for me, Jordan.”
“Says who?” he asked, challenging my words. “The contract is four years. That’s not a long time.”
“Let’s be serious, Jordan. You’ve been on this team since you were twenty-one. That’s six years. Another four years is very likely to carry you into the end of your career.”
“And I’d love to finish where I started, with the woman I love.”
I swallowed hard. “Jordan…”
“Nicole. It’s done. You’re not talking me out of it, or getting rid of me, whatever you’re trying to do right now.”
“I’m not,” I insisted. “I just… I don’t want you to regret this. If we don’t work out…”
He held up a hand, stopping me. “Don’t even speak that into the atmosphere. The contract means we’re stuck with each other for four years, without having to get married,” he laughed. “If we can’t get our shit together between now and then, it’s just not meant to be. Besides that, you owe me a baby before that contract is up anyway.”
“If you could not, that would be great,” I said, trying not to smile. “If you’re sure about this though, it will be on Margo’s desk for review early Monday morning.”
He nodded. “I look forward to discussing it with her. Now come on. Come chill with me.”
“I can’t. I still have work to do.”
“You can take a break,” he said, standing up, and extending his hand for mine. “Come on.”
I let out a sigh, then accepted his hand as I stood. He pulled me around the desk and the immediately tucked me under his arm, hugging me close. It had barely been three weeks since the Super Bowl, and everything that happened after, but it felt like an eternity.
He led me into my living room and plopped on the couch, motioning for me to join him. I was careful of how I positioned myself so I wouldn’t hurt him, but it sure did feel good to be enveloped in his arms.
I sighed when he turned the TV on, expecting him to turn to one of the sports networks. It was torture for both of us really, seeing everything replayed over and over, but neither of us could seem to get enough.
To my surprise, he turned to one of the entertainment news channels – my own personal torture. I rolled my eyes when Kendra Fulton’s face appeared on my screen.
“Can we watch something else? Something detailing the process from sheep to sweater or pig to bacon? Anything?”
Jordan laughed. “Just chill. I’m trying to see something.”
“Fine,” I muttered, grudgingly turning my eyes to the screen.
“Since Super Bowl Sunday, the whole world has been riveted by the apparent secret romance – or something more tawdry – between star wide receiver Jordan Johnson and Kings front office executive Nicole Richardson. Nicole is the pampered daughter of NFL legend and business mogul Eli Richardson, who also happens to be the owner of the Connecticut Kings. After “The Flash” Johnson took a tackle that would later reveal to be the cause of a broken clavicle, Nicole made a huge production of getting to him – even shoving aside NFL superstar Tom Brady mid-interview. It all sounds very romantic – or scandalous, depending who you ask. Last week, someone reached out to the show, wanting to tell the full story – something the world has been digging for since that eventful Sunday. Today, I’m airing that conversation. Stay with us for the next hour as Jordan Johnson himself clears up the misinformation and tells his own story in our special interview: Love on the Highlight Reel.”
I gasped as the screen filled with pictures of Jordan and I in college, looking young as hell, and so in love.
“Jordan, what is this? When did you—”
“Shhhh,” he interrupted, raising a finger to his lips. “This sounds good, and I’m trying to hear. Why you always talking when I’m trying to watch TV?”
I turned away from the smirk playing on his mouth to see him and Kendra on the screen. He was in his sling, and I remembered him wearing that shirt… earlier this week. The day he’d had his meeting with Chloe, and took forever to get back with my pastries.
And now I know why.
“So Jordan,” Kendra said, grinning harder than she needed to at my man. “Let’s just get right to it. I’m sure you’ve seen all the different stories about you and Nicole, seen the nasty backlash she’s taken. Everything from her being a gold digger, to being recruited to keep you on the team, all kinds of things. What’s the real deal?”
“All of that stuff is way, way off base,” Jordan said, shaking his head. “Especially in terms of her being a gold digger – I’m almost positive she has a higher net worth than me, so that’s ridiculous. Anybody trying to frame negative or manipulative intentions around our relationship flat out doesn’t know what they’re talking about. It’s real between Nicki and me.”
“Nicki? Everyone else shortens her name to “Cole”, which is what I’ve heard she prefers. Why do you call her Nicki?”
Jordan smiled. “Because that’s how she introduced herself to me, back when we met in college. Super smart, put together, dang near nerdy. I think she was trying to brand herself as “edgy”,” Jordan laughed, and I did too. That was exactly why I’d gone with Nicki.
“So you met in college – before you were in the NFL.”
“That’s correct. I was more in awe of her than she was of me. I mean… she was the daughter of a legend, and she was interested in me.”
“You weren’t concerned she was recruiting you, for her father?”
Jordan scowled. “Not at all. First of all, Eli was involved with the Kings at the time, but not yet the owner of the team. Besides that, Nicki had very different motivations.”
“Which were?”
He chuckled. “She was competitive as hell. She wanted me so no one else could have me.”
“Well, who could blame her,” Kendra said, laughing. One of Jordan’s pictures from college came up on the screen. “You were gorgeous back then, and you’re gorgeous now.”
Jordan gave her the dimples, and I squirmed in my seat just like millions of others who were probably tuned in. “I appreciate that,” he responded, then went back to what he was saying, “But yeah, Nicki’s interest wasn’t business related. It was very human. We were together two years, and then like most college relationships, especially with athletes, we fell off.”
“But you reunited. Recently.”
Jordan nodded. “Yeah. We both got tired of pretending that what we’d shared back then was done. It may not be conventional, and may even be unprofessional, or unethical to some. But that’s the woman I love, and nothing is getting in the way of that.”
Kendra let out a dreamy sigh at the same time I did, and Jordan tightened his arm around me. “So what about those whispers though, of an ethical violation? Nicole’s executive position with the team makes a relationship with a player improper, at best. Wouldn’t accusations of favoritism and bias, worries about a conflict of interest, be valid?”
“Only for people who don’t know her. The position she’s in is new, but Nicki is proven. She doesn’t play favorites, even with me. In fact… I think she’s harder on me than anybody else.”
“Mmm,” Kendra nodded. “When we reached out to other players on the team, they mirrored your sentiments. They were largely supportive of your relationship, but especially of Nicole. Some were obviously upset about the accusations against her work ethic. And some… were disappointed to be able to refute the idea that she was some sort of… plaything for the team.”
Jordan rolled his eyes. “Because that shi—mess isn’t true, even though I’m sure some wish it was. Nicki is a beautiful woman, but that shouldn’t diminish the fact that she’s also intelligent, driven, competent, and valuable to the Kings’ organization for reasons that have nothing to do with the way she looks. And it’s pissed me off to see the way people have reduced her to that.”
“Understandable. Hopefully, this has helped dissolve some of those misconceptions.”
“Hopefully. It hasn’t been all negative though. I appreciate everybody who has sent well-wishes our way, instead of spewing garbage.”
“Oh that’s right,” Kendra mused. “Many celebrities have come forward to share their congratulations… but a few have had not-so positive things to say. Like Cedrick Rochester, from Zone Report. He revealed that Nicole was his former fiancée, claimed that she was cold and unemotional, only cared about work. Do you have a response for that?”
I could practically see the anger boiling off of Jordan as he clenched his jaw, then shook his head. “Not really. Only that there’s a reason she’s his former fiancée.”
“I love it when love makes a way back around to where it started,” Kendra said, with a big smile. “I was so thrilled when you reached out, and when I heard your story, I was so glad you wanted to come here to tell it. I don’t even feel like stirring the pot with this one. I’m just going to let my viewers bask in this beautiful tale of black love, and call it a day. Thank you for coming, Jordan.”
He grinned back. “Thank you for having me.”
“So what do you think?” Jordan asked, nudging my side.
I turned to him, practically crawling in his lap. “I think you probably hated doing that… but I love that you did it anyway.”
“You do what you have to do sometimes,” he said, reaching up to cup my face. “Couldn’t have these people talking all reckless about you, and not saying anything. You don’t have to respond, but it doesn’t mean I had to let it ride.”
I nodded. “I appreciate that. I love you.”
“And I love you. So I had to show you, you not the only one who can show out.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Show out? Huh?”
“Right now,” he grinned, “Am I, or am I not the best man ever?”
My face immediately spread into a smile, and I giggled as I pressed my lips to his.
“You absolutely are.”
Blue and gold confetti rains do
wn around me. My teammates smack me on the shoulders. Trent, my fucking brother, growls as he crashes into me, bumping chests. He smacks my helmet, hard, then growls again before he turns to growl at something else.
We did it.
We actually did it.
This season hasn’t been easy. I’ve struggled, I’ve worked harder than I knew was possible to not let last season’s injury hold me back. I can’t even smile – my face is still fixed in the same scowl I wore when the ball hit the end zone, securing our victory. One of the coaching assistants walks up to shake my hand, leaving me with something I’ve asked him to deliver, depending on the result of this game.
I drop to my knees, gratefully.
Prayerfully, something I’ve picked up from Trent.
“Jordan!”
I look up from the confetti-littered turf to see Nicki running towards me, her face engulfed by a huge smile. She drops to her knees too, helping remove my helmet before throwing her arms around my neck to embrace me.
“I am so, so proud of you,” she whispers against my ear, then pulls back to meet my eyes.
She’s crying.
She knows how bad I’ve wanted this – knows I needed it. Behind her tears, her eyes are shining with love and pride.
It makes me even more sure of what I’m about to do.
I smile at her, then encourage her to get up, but I remain on my knees in front of her, and grab her hand. That confetti is swirling around us, in her hair, sticking to her face. She’s holding my helmet – carrying part of my load – and the chance to put significance to that isn’t missed on me.
“Nicki!” I yell, because I have to, over the noise of the crowd, celebrating the Kings as Super Bowl champions. “I have a question for you.”
Her eyes go wide as I hold up my other hand, showing her the ring.
“Jordan…” I see her mouth move to form the word, but don’t hear her speak.
Love on the Highlight Reel (Connecticut Kings Book 2) Page 30