Текст книги "Covering Kendall"

Автор книги: Julie Brannagh

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Owen hefted the refrigerated bags he’d brought and his knife case onto Drew’s kitchen island. “How does cilantro-lime fish tacos served with mango salsa and avocado crème sound to you? I’ve got some Mexican rice and beans to go with them. I have some dulce de leche ice cream for dessert as well.”

“Sounds great, Owen. Dad, you’ll enjoy it.” His dad looked a bit befuddled, but Drew knew his idea of cuisine was a piece of meat and a potato. He’d be okay. “Do you need anything else right now?”

“Nope.” Owen glanced over at the beers on Drew’s table. “I tried to get some of that when I was at the store last week. It sells out.”

“I had to carry the last six-pack out in my teeth,” Drew assured him. Owen let out a snort and arrayed pots and pans on Drew’s cooktop. “Want one?”

“Hell, yeah, and thanks. I’ll crack it open later. Will Neil be here the rest of the week?”

“Yes,” Drew’s dad said.

“I’ll make sure there’s plenty of food, then. How do you feel about quinoa and kale casserole?” It was obvious by Owen’s grin he was teasing a little, but Neil looked horrified.

“Dad. He’s joking,” Drew said. “If you’d make some stuff that’s friendly for a guy who likes entrees like spaghetti and meat and potatoes, I’ll eat the chickified stuff. I’m going to need a little extra bulk on Sunday, that’s for sure.”

“Dallas?” Owen said.

“Shit, yeah, and their offensive line is a nightmare these days.”

“You’ll kick their asses,” Owen said. “Watching their QB sit on the turf and cry at Sharks Stadium is one of my favorite memories.”

“That was excellent, wasn’t it?” Drew got up from the table and crossed to the island, feeling around for his wallet. “If you’re making more stuff for Dad, I need to spot you some cash for the ingredients.”

“I’ll bill you. Don’t worry about it.” Owen grinned at Neil. “By the time I get done with you, you’ll be eating ceviche and Thai coconut curry.”

“Ceviche,” his dad said in a low voice. The food alone might scare him right back to Wisconsin.

“Would you also be willing to bill me for a couple of decent six-packs when you make a store run?” Drew said.

“I can do that.” Owen poured a slick of extra-virgin olive oil into his frying pan. “You must have gotten ambushed in the grocery store again.”

“Yeah. It was two hours before I made it out of there, especially since Tom Reed was one aisle over loading up a cart with ice cream and avocados for his pregnant wife. I’m ordering stuff from Amazon Fresh now, but I have to sign for the beer myself—”

“I can handle it, D. Don’t worry about it.”

Owen gently laid two pieces of tilapia in the frying pan and turned the heat down a bit as he stirred the beans and the rice. He’d already put the tortillas in the oven to warm and was pulling more items out of his bag to construct the mango salsa and the additional taco filling. Drew could assemble a few dishes and feed himself, but nothing like this.

“Hey, Dad, why don’t you go relax? Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes or so. Your stuff’s in one of the rooms upstairs, right?”

His dad shoved himself out of the dining room chair and got to his feet. “Good idea. I took the room next door to yours, by the way.” He walked into the family room, sat down on the couch, and clicked the TV on.

Drew patted his pocket to make sure his phone was still in there, and he said to Owen in a low voice, “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes or so.”

“Great.” Owen went back to making their delicious looking and smelling dinner, and Drew ducked into the small office he kept in the little bonus room off of the kitchen, shutting the door behind him. He punched in the contact for his parents’ number.

His mom answered on the second ring. “Hi, honey.”

“Mom, are you going to be up later? I’m about to have dinner with Dad, and I’d like to hear your side of what’s going on.”

His mother sighed. “There isn’t a lot to tell. I’ve wanted to go back to work for a while. You kids are all grown and gone. The grandkids are only here on the weekends. It’s not like I had a lot to do, and your dad’s gone all day. I wanted something for myself,” she said. “Your dad is acting like I’ve run off with another man. I don’t get what his problem is. He doesn’t talk to me before he works overtime or on the weekends.”

“He’s hurt because he thinks he’s not getting the same dinners and attention these days.”

“That’s not true. I’m just not hovering over him twenty-four hours a day anymore. It’s good for him. I keep encouraging him to go fishing, or take those buddies of his up on their poker invites every Friday night. I’d like to go see my friends too, but he doesn’t like ‘chick flicks’ and book clubs. Plus, his doctor told me if he doesn’t cool it on the red meat and fried stuff, he’s going to have to go on cholesterol drugs. I don’t want that to happen.” She let out another sigh. “I love him more than anyone else in the world. I’ve loved him for thirty-six years, and I’ll love him until I die, but honey, he needs to realize that I need a life.”

“He said you made pulled pork for him.”

“And coleslaw, and made sure the buns were toasted the way he likes them, and I made a peach pie too.”

“Will you marry me, Mom?”

His mother burst out laughing. “I’ll make sure your future wife has all of my recipes, honey.” She was quiet for a few seconds. “How’s that going?”

“I met someone, but it’s not going to work.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll tell you, but you have to keep it between us.”

“Of course.”

“She runs another team. She doesn’t live here. I’d get traded or benched and she’d probably be in a lot of trouble if we keep seeing each other.”

“That’s crazy. They can’t tell you who you can fall in love with. Are you sure it won’t work?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.” He heard Owen call out, “Soup’s on!”

“I have to go. Could we talk again later?”

“How about tomorrow morning, honey?”

“Okay then. It’s a date. I’ll call you when I wake up. I love you, Mom.”

He heard her blow a kiss through the receiver. “I love you too, honey. Take care of your dad for me.”

“Will do.”

Owen was loading the dishwasher when he emerged from his office, and his dad was already sitting at the kitchen table. Drew was a little surprised to note the table was already set.

“Did you do this, Dad?”

“Gotta earn my keep.”

Two hours later, his dad was asleep in the guest room upstairs, and Drew was relaxing on the couch in the family room and watching a little TV before he went to bed. It was a jam-packed day, but he wasn’t sleepy yet. He couldn’t stop thinking about Kendall, and how she’d looked when he awoke this morning in her bed. He wondered if she thought of him too, and if she felt as frustrated as he did about the fact that any romance between them couldn’t last.

He heard the chirp of an incoming text.

I can’t stop thinking about you. Good night.

Chapter Ten

KENDALL SHUT THE conference room door behind her. She’d been up to her ass in alligators since yesterday, when she showed up at the first meeting of the day having done exactly zero research and even less preparation. The only reason she managed to get through it at all was the fact she over-prepared every other day and she had a great memory.

She’d had to play catch-up all day yesterday and most of last night. She was ready for them this morning. Unfortunately for her, the front office group decided to dispense with the original meeting agenda and embark on a fun new one.

“Is Drew McCoy of the Sharks dating someone who lives in San Jose?” The Miners’ owner, Donald Curtis, took a sip of coffee and set his mug back down on the table.

She almost spit her mouthful of triple-shot latte across the conference room table. She managed to recover her composure in milliseconds and glanced around the table to make sure her reaction wasn’t detected. None of the guys noticed anything wrong. Sydney gave her a raised eyebrow, though. Damn it. She’d be asked about it later. She dabbed at her mouth with a paper napkin and attempted to look unconcerned with the topic.

“How the hell should we know or care who McCoy’s dating? He’s still with Seattle,” the head coach said. Jack Phillips hated these meetings and never passed up a chance to let everyone in the room know it.

“There were photos of him in the San Jose airport with some UCLA alumni on Twitter the day before yesterday, according to a sports website. If he’s involved with someone in the area, it might be easier to persuade him he’d like to live in California and play for us,” the director of scouting for the team chimed in. He was looking for any possible angle (that didn’t cost money) to pry Drew McCoy away from the Sharks.

Rod Carpenter, the director of player personnel, steepled his fingers as he listened.

“You know, it’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard to follow up on that information. Why else would a player fly anywhere for twenty-four hours during the season? That’s odd, especially since it’s not like he can’t afford to have a woman meet him in Seattle instead.”

“Must have been a hot date,” the head coach said and snickered. The other guys at the table laughed out loud.

“Maybe he couldn’t find anyone he’d rather have in Seattle.”

“Those Sharks aren’t hard on the eyes.”

“He’d be laughed out of the locker room if he dated a cheerleader,” Jerry Berggren, the director of scouting, said.

Kendall needed to get this meeting back on track.

“Maybe he has a family member in the area, or maybe he wanted a good look at the Golden Gate Bridge. Let’s get back to the agenda,” she said, glancing down at her iPad screen. “We lost Tarvaris Walters to a hamstring injury for the rest of the season Sunday. His backup will play, but we’re now looking for another starting cornerback in free agency. What’s the progress been since this morning? Did you talk with Chase Adams’ agent?”

Tarvaris would have surgery and be assigned to injured reserve for the rest of the season. His replacement would be offered a one-season contract, most likely with a small signing bonus for the alleged inconvenience of living in San Francisco for another two to four months. Kendall knew Seattle had cut Chase Adams, a starter-quality cornerback, due to the impact of his veteran’s salary on their cap when a rookie low-round draft pick ran rings around the guy. He’d be expensive, but he’d also be a quarterback’s nightmare.

If the Miners had any hopes of making the postseason, they weren’t doing it with just one cornerback. They needed at least another guy on the depth chart in case of injury.

“We talked with the agent. Adams is motivated to come here and will sign for less than market value in hopes of catching on for more than one season,” Rod Carpenter said.

“What’s the holdup?” Kendall said.

“You’ll authorize his salary and a hundred thousand dollar signing bonus,” Rod said.

“Yes. Call the agent right now before Adams signs with another team,” Kendall said.

This was the most frustrating thing about Kendall’s current position: The guys she worked with were cordial to her face, but she knew every male in the Miners’ front office was rooting for her to fail. They all wanted her job, and they weren’t afraid to make that clear.

They’d appointed her because she’d been with the organization the longest, she was very good at her job, and she had enough football knowledge to not embarrass herself in public or at a meeting. It looked good to the league that the Miners appointed a woman too. In other words, she’d probably hold this job for a few weeks, they’d appoint one of their cronies as GM, and she’d (hopefully) go back to her former job.

Frankly, the GM job was a nightmare. She preferred being the director of football operations. She still had to go to meetings and listen to a bunch of guys pontificate on topics that could be solved much more rapidly without listening to their high school/college football exploits and the usual shit talking about women or wives. Her days used to consist of managing the team’s salary cap, dealing with player contracts and agents, ensuring the team’s financial health, and making sure the heads of other departments were doing their jobs. She listened to other people tell her why the ticket prices should go up or how much it was going to cost to serve organic food in the team’s cafeteria instead of what they were currently serving.

She spent a lot of her day now signing off on other people’s research and decisions. She couldn’t make an effective decision without doing her own research, though, and the system she’d had in place in her former job wasn’t working so far in the GM’s job. It was like trying to drink from a fire hose, and every guy in the room right now knew it.

She stifled a sigh as Rod Carpenter came back into the room and told the group, “We got him. He’ll be here tomorrow morning for a physical and contract signing.”

The team was damn lucky Chase Adams was still available during the period of time since they’d made the initial call, and someone who should have known to pick up the phone and ask her for the authorization didn’t do so.

One more emergency solved. Of course, that left a few more, including the fact the Miners’ head coach had become even more difficult to deal with in the past three weeks. Team personnel tiptoed around him. Another assistant coach had been ordered by his doctor to take a leave of absence due to stress-related health issues last week. Jack Phillips’ reaction to this was to call the assistant coach a “pansy” in front of the players and tell him if he didn’t show up he was fired. HR had since gotten involved. She was waiting for a hostile work environment lawsuit filing to land on her desk any minute.

She was also dealing with Rocky Hill, an All-Pro offensive lineman with two previous DV arrests. Hill had violated a protective order two days before the team played in Seattle and spent the night in jail. She wanted to cut Hill from the team. Her colleagues (vociferously) disagreed. He was on the agenda, and her stomach churned in anticipation of what was going to happen when she told them she’d made a decision. She was cutting him and starting the backup, and if they disagreed, she was going to let the local press know exactly why he was benched for Sunday’s game.

She wished she could go back to her office, shut the door, and construct spreadsheets for the rest of the day, but it wasn’t going to happen.

Kendall had started working for the Miners in their mail room at sixteen years old. Her family’s next door neighbor was the team’s former GM, and she’d needed a part-time job for a few hours a week after school and on Saturdays. She enjoyed watching her high school’s team play football, but the more she was around the Miners and the headquarters, it grew into a passion. She wanted to keep working for the Miners. The former GM told her that the only way she’d get a front office job was to focus on business education, so she earned a Bachelor’s first and her Master’s at Wharton in San Francisco. She kept working for the Miners all through college and grad school, and she was rewarded with a promotion to the assistant to the director of football operations job the Monday morning after she graduated with an MBA.

Two years ago the director retired, and she landed his job.

She knew other women doubted their career paths or took time off to get married and have babies. She wanted children and a husband, but she also wanted her career. She couldn’t see any reason why it wouldn’t work. She’d have to hire a very reliable nanny and marry someone who was willing to pitch in, but it could be done.

Three hours of mind-numbing discussion about the minutiae of running a professional football franchise later, Kendall was able to escape to her office. She’d been taking notes the entire meeting. There was research to be done and decisions to be made, but first of all, she needed some lunch. She stuffed her tablet into her handbag and glanced up as Sydney walked into her office.

“I’m going to grab a sandwich. Do you want me to get you one too?” Kendall said.

Sydney shut the office door behind her and leaned against it. She raised one eyebrow.

“You know why Drew McCoy was in San Jose, don’t you?”

“Want one of those Izze things? I know you really like the clementine. It sounds refreshing. Maybe I’ll get one for myself too.” Kendall heard her phone chirp. She grabbed it out of her pants pocket.

“Were you talking to him?” Sydney said. There was no doubt who Sydney meant. Damn it.

“I can’t officially talk to him. It’s considered tampering,” Kendall said.

Sydney let out a gasp. “You talked to him.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal . . .”

Actually, it was a huge deal, up to and including the fact they’d had sex, but she wasn’t going to share that with her assistant. Kendall had tried to keep the friendly, engaging Sydney at arm’s length and be professional for the first few months or so they worked together. Her detachment had collapsed in a heap one afternoon when Kendall discovered her usually unflappable assistant in tears in the ladies’ room because the boyfriend she’d been dating since high school dumped her via text message.

Six months later, Kendall was the one falling apart in the ladies’ room during a workday. Sydney had cancelled all of her meetings, gotten her a fresh box of tissues, and bought her a two and a half pound bag of M&M’s.

“If it wasn’t a big deal, you would have told those guys about it.” Sydney crossed to Kendall’s desk, grabbed a clean sticky note and a pen, and said, “I’ll order lunch. What do you want?”

“Turkey on wheat.”

“And provolone, I know. I’ll get you an Izze. Anything else?”

“Do they have M&M’s?”

Sydney grinned at her. “I want the whole story when I come back.”

HALF AN HOUR later, Sydney returned to Kendall’s office with a couple of bakery bags and spread the booty over her desk. “Okay. Two sandwiches. Yours is marked. Here’s your drink, and here’s your M&M’s. I got some too.” She pulled one of the chairs that sat in front of Kendall’s desk to the edge and sat down. “So, start at the beginning.”

“Do we need to talk about the circle of trust?” Kendall joked. “This has to remain a secret.”

“Of course it does, because I’d like to keep working here. What happened?” Sydney pulled a veggie wrap out of butcher paper and uncapped her Izze. “Don’t leave anything out.”

Kendall would be leaving plenty out, but she wasn’t going to admit that. “Two nights before the Miners played the Sharks, I left my hotel room to go buy a book.”

“You read books on your e-reader.”

“Yes, I know. I needed to get out and stretch my legs.”

“In a rainstorm?”

“I didn’t know it was that bad before I went out there.”

“Kendall, I would have called the bookstore and asked them to send something over—”

“I know you would have. I just needed a walk.”

“Wasn’t that the same day Jack Phillips went absolutely ape shit over the fact that you changed the free agents marketing brochure?”

“Yes, it was.” Kendall shook her head. “There was a bookstore about a block and a half from the hotel. I needed to get out for a few minutes, and there was a presentation by the author of Carl Sagan’s latest biography.”

Sydney looked a bit confused.

“Very famous astrophysicist. My dad used to watch his show when I was younger. I knew Dad would love the book, so I sat down to hear what the guy had to say. He didn’t show up, but I grabbed a book anyway for my dad. Drew McCoy was the only other person in the audience.”

“Did you recognize him?”

“He had this big slouchy knit hat over his hair and he was dressed in casual clothes—”

“He’s on TV ten times a day!”

“I don’t watch much TV,” Kendall said. Sydney grinned at her and shook her head. “He asked me if I wanted to have a cup of coffee with him, and I said yes. We went to the coffee shop next door, we had something to drink, and he decided he wanted to walk me back to the hotel.”

Sydney’s eyes narrowed. “How did he get back home?”

“Took a cab.”

“So the whole time you were talking with him, you didn’t recognize him, and then he was nice enough to walk you back to the hotel in a driving rain and seventy mile an hour winds?”

“It didn’t really get bad until we were back at the hotel—” Kendall blurted out, and then she wished she could bite her own tongue off.

“Back at the hotel, hmm?” Sydney was giving her the raised eyebrow again. Kendall would give her own story the raised eyebrow if someone else was telling it to her.

“He walked me back there. He had to dry off before he could go home.”

Sydney stared at her. She reached out for the M&M’s bag, ripped it open, and held it out to Kendall. “I should have gotten a bottle of tequila, a lime, and a couple of shot glasses.” She tossed a handful of candies into her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and said, “He had your phone, didn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“And he flew to San Jose to bring it back to you.”

Kendall reached out for another handful of M&M’s.

“I take it that’s a yes,” Sydney said. “I’m guessing he didn’t bring the phone to your house and run back to the airport the same night, either.” She picked up her Izze and took a swig. “Are you going to see him again?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Kendall pushed her half sandwich around with one fingertip on the butcher paper it came in.

Sydney picked up her wrap, took a bite, and chewed. Kendall had lost her appetite. Well, she’d lost her appetite for anything besides chocolate. She grabbed a few more from the bag and popped them into her mouth.

“He’s interested, isn’t he?”

Kendall’s voice dropped. She leaned forward. “Yes. I already told him that being involved with him couldn’t happen. He’d get cut or traded if anyone found out, and I’d be in serious trouble as well around here.”

“The team wants to go after him in free agency.”

“Yes.”

“Does he want to play for the Miners?”

“You have to promise me you will not tell anyone this—”

“I promise,” Sydney said.

Kendall shook her head. Sydney’s eyes got huge again.

“Jack Phillips is going to lose it completely when he finds this out,” Sydney said. “He wants him BAD.”

“I know.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

“No. If I did, I’d be in trouble I couldn’t get out of. He said the only way he’d consider it is if the team threw what he calls ‘stupid money’ at him.”

“Do you plan on doing that?”

“No. He identified several issues the team’s already having that could be fixed with the money we’d have to pay him to leave Seattle.”

Sydney stared at her. “I think that’s crazier than the fact you had the discussion.”

“He’s fair,” Kendall said.

Actually, Drew was generous. She knew the problems with the current team. They’d been over it multiple times already with Jack Phillips, who insisted the players in question were simply “lazy” and “unmotivated.” She knew from talking with those players’ agents that they’d had it with the head coach and were looking for a way out of San Francisco as quickly as possible.

“So eat something. You’re meeting with the equipment guys a little later, and then we’ll be prepping for tomorrow morning’s agenda,” Sydney said.

More meetings. More decisions. The guys who were gunning for her job were probably rubbing their hands together with glee. She had never wanted the GM job to begin with, but she’d do her best while she had it.

The next several days were a whirlwind. The Miners were playing at home, which meant she wasn’t required to travel to an away game with the team. Kendall also did her best to stop thinking about Drew. It wasn’t working. She’d sent him some junior-high quality text the other day about missing him, and he didn’t text in response. In other words, she needed to get over it and keep her mind on her work.

She was finishing up some e-mails at seven PM on Friday evening when Sydney walked into her office.

“What are you doing here?” Kendall said. “You were out of here an hour ago. You have homework.”

“It’s Friday night, and I can do the homework tomorrow or Sunday. You should have been out of here an hour ago too. It will all wait until Monday morning.” Sydney reached out to shove Kendall’s office door closed. “Have you heard from him?”

They both knew who “him” was.

“No. Maybe it’s better that way.”

“Your meetings on Monday don’t start until noon.”

“I thought there was some kind of breakfast thing.”

“No,” Sydney said. She handed Kendall her tablet; flight times between San Francisco and Seattle were already on it. “Throw a few things in a bag and I’ll tell everyone you have an appointment.”

“Why are you doing this for me?”

Sydney grinned at her. “You and this job are getting me through undergrad. It’s the least I can do.”