Chapter 17

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Trey took a three-step drop,cocked his arm, and launched the football through the uprights. His teammates lined up on the sidelines of the practice field whooped and hollered with delight. At least those who had the wisdom not to take Kessler’s wager did. Every year, the wide receiver talked his teammates into betting him that Trey couldn’t throw a football seventy-five yards over the goal post in three attempts or less. And every year, Trey accomplished it on the first try.

“On behalf of the homeless pets of Milwaukee, thank you, gentlemen,” Kessler said as he collected his winnings in the locker room thirty minutes later.

Grunting, Fletcher took his seat in front of the locker next to Trey’s. “One of these days you’re gonna miss and what will Kessler’s mutts do then, eh?” The kicker tugged off his cleats.

“He won’t miss,” Kessler sat on Trey’s other side counting his money. “He’s a machine, remember?”

“I can’t believe that article is still making the rounds,” Trey groused. “Surely someone else has done something newsworthy—or stupid—this summer?”

“If you’d let me sue the woman, it would already be out of the news cycle.”

Trey swore beneath his breath. He slowly turned to find Collin strolling through the locker room as if he owned the place.

Fletcher’s laugh lacked any humor. “If he’d let you sue her, the story would still be front page news now and for months to come. ‘Least said, soonest mended’ according to my ma.”

Trey gestured at the kicker. “What he said. What are you doing here, Collin?”

Except Trey could guess the reason his agent’s son had dragged his ass from the parties in the Hamptons on a late August evening. The Growlers were playing a nationally televised preseason game against the league champion Baltimore Blaze tonight. With some strategic positioning on the sidelines, Collin would likely make it onto everyone’s screens, looking like he’s schmoozing with pro football players. It was a surefire gimmick to give him more cred with the college boys Marty’s firm was angling to sign this year.

“I’m here to watch our number one client play football,” Collin replied.

“This really is your first rodeo,” Fletcher quipped. “It’s our final game of the pre-season. Van Horn isn’t even dressing for the game.”

Collin flashed a coy grin. “Well, isn’t that a shame? I guess we’ll have more time to catch up on the sideline, then.”

Bingo.

“Is your little brother coming tonight?” Collin went to slap Kessler on the shoulder, but the receiver abruptly stood before his hand made contact.

“He’ll be around,” Kessler replied.

“Cool. I can’t believe he isn’t repped yet. I’d really appreciate it if you’d hook me up with an introduction. I’d love to tell him what the Slater Agency can do for him.”

Collin was ballsy, Trey had to give him that. Luke and Brody’s father was an NFL legend who was still represented by the agent he’d signed with before he’d been drafted. Luke, being the illegitimate son, had to make his way in the league without the support of his superstar dad. And he had, thanks to the guidance of his own agent. For Collin to think he had a shot at Brody with two big-time agents already in the family was laughable.

Or desperate.

Trey immediately wondered about Marty’s recovery. He hadn’t talked to the man since their conversation about Jay the month before. Shouldn’t he be back at work by now?

“How’s Marty feeling?” he asked, giving Kessler time to slip away to his locker without having to commit to anything.

“Good, good.” Collin waved the question off. “He’ll be back at it soon.”

His answer wasn’t very reassuring. Trey made a mental note to reach out to Marty in the morning. Maybe Collin’s father had some news about Jay. Trey hadn’t heard from his dad since they last spoke weeks earlier. If Jay was really coming to the bachelor party, Trey needed to be mentally prepared. He tugged his jersey off and tossed it in the basket the equipment manager set out for dirty laundry.

“I’m sure you’ve got lots of other clients to look after with your father recuperating,” he told Collin. “You don’t need to babysit me.”

“Dude, I come bearing gifts. Bergeron’s girlfriend sent the scripts for the commercial shoot next week.”

Hearing him refer to London as “Bergeron’s girlfriend” had Trey wanting to shove his fist through a wall. Or Collin Slater’s face. She isn’t the goalie’s girlfriend, he wanted to shout. She wasn’t anyone’s girlfriend, dammit.

He thought he’d been good at compartmentalizing. Concentrating on preparing for the season. Working out the kinks with his offensive line and his receiving corps so they were all on the same page with the playbook when the season started.

At night, however, when he was alone with his thoughts, London was always there. And now that he’d touched her again, that he’d had another taste of her, he kept picturing her in that formfitting T-shirt dress, with her cute white tennis shoes, looking all innocent on the outside. Except he knew what she was hiding underneath.

Then he remembered the way she’d looked at him after discovering the photo she’d taken hanging above his fireplace. Her crestfallen expression shriveled up his balls every time he relived the moment. Parts of her may want him, but the parts in control still didn’t trust him. And they never would.

“You could have emailed them to me.” He shucked his uniform pants and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist. The last thing he needed was for Collin—or his Nosy Nelly teammates—to see how any mention of London affected him.

“I thought we should go over them. Suggest a few changes. They feel a little metro-sexual for your brand.”

Fletcher made a choking noise.

Trey grabbed his bodywash and headed in the direction of the showers. “I’m reading the scripts verbatim.”

“Seriously, man? WTF? What did this chick do that she owns your balls?”

Collin was even slower than he was in high school. Trey pinned him to the wall before the idiot knew what hit him. His eyes immediately bulged out of their sockets when Trey pressed his forearm to Collin’s neck. For some reason, Kessler felt the need to intervene. The receiver wedged his arm between the two men and shoved Trey back.

“Whoa there, Slater.” Kessler slid Collin out from Trey’s grip. “If you want a minute with Brody, it’s now or never. Let’s go.”

Trey was still breathing hard when Kessler managed to perp walk Collin’s sorry ass out of harm’s way and into the tunnel leading out to the field. He knew he was breathing hard because it was the only sound in the now silent locker room.

“Nothing to see here,” he told his stone-faced teammates.

Fletcher picked up the bottle of bodywash from the floor and handed it to Trey. Antonio cued up the sound system and the speakers began to blast Drake’s latest.

“You wanna talk about it?” Fletcher asked when they reached the showers.

“Nope.”

The kicker had the nerve to laugh.

“What’s so damn funny?” Trey demanded.

“Just imagining that I sounded a lot like you two years ago.”

“Nah, you were a real dick. And don’t go assuming my situation is anything like yours. It’s not.”

“Whatever you say.”

Fletcher let it go—for all of thirty seconds.

Which was probably a record for the kicker who considered himself to be the team’s sage.

“But if you’re going to take on Bergeron, you’re going to need some backup.”

Trey ducked beneath the shower head in hopes of tuning out his teammate. Unfortunately, Fletcher was still wearing his trademark smug smile when Trey finished his shower.

“Brody is happy to string Marty’s spawn along for a while,” Kessler said when Trey and Fletcher made their way back to their lockers. “Are you going to tell us what that was all about?”

“QB One is not inclined to discuss the situation,” Fletcher answered for Trey.

“There is no ‘situation,’” Trey snapped as he dragged on his warmup gear.

“That’s not what Randy said,” Kessler murmured.

“Who the hell is Randy?”

Fletcher shook his head. “How many times have I suggested it would behoove you to learn the names of the staff?”

“Randy is one of the equipment guys,” Kessler explained. “He’s also your chauffeur for the golf cart.”

Trey suddenly had a very bad feeling. “What. Did. He. Say?”

Kessler took a step back. “He might have incorrectly assumed you and London were an item. Mostly because her little brother hung around for practice opening day.”

“And the hickey you put on the lass’s neck.”

“What? No way! My lips never left hers! There was no hickey!”

Fletcher’s face lit up with a shit-eating grin just as Trey realized he’d been had.

“So it is true.” Kessler put his hands on his hips. “You do realize Bergeron is a hockey player? Those guys fight dirty.”

“She and Bergeron are not together,” Trey managed to push out through clenched teeth.

“Because you and she are?” Fletcher asked, no doubt trying to trick Trey once again.

Trey placed his street clothes into his garment bag he would take over to the locker room in the stadium. “No.” The disappointment brought on by that one word stunned him. “No,” he repeated, trying to sound a lot more convincing.

He could feel the stares from the two men he considered to be his closest friends. Not that Trey did friendship very well. Letting his guard down with people, letting them see the real him, wasn’t his strong suit. His ridiculous childhood taught him that putting yourself out there usually got you burned.

Sure, he’d go through hell and back with any guy in this locker room because they were his teammates. His brothers on the field. That’s what a team did. They fought for one another. Yet, he suddenly wondered if any of them would do the same for him. Did they consider him a friend? More importantly, when had that started to matter?

Had the years of being aloof cost him more fulfilling relationships? The last time Trey had let down his guard, had let someone in, was those few weeks with London. He’d liked who he’d been with her. But look how that ended up.

He sank down on the bench and dragged his fingers through his hair. “It’s complicated.”

Fletcher snorted. “Aye. It always is with women.”

Kessler sat beside him. “But they’re worth it. And as my Gram always says, nothing worth having is ever easy.”

“You two are fonts of old lady platitudes today,” Trey mumbled.

“Do you want our help or not?” Kessler shot back.

“Give it up, Luke.” Fletcher grabbed a new jersey and pulled it over his shoulder pads. “Van Horn is a one man show. Always has been. Always will be.”

Except he didn’t want to be anymore.

“I first met London ten years ago,” Trey began quietly. “She jumped off a moving boat to deliver Pops’ mail. I think I was in awe of her from that moment on.” He grinned at the memory of her fearlessness. “Everything about her was guileless. It was relaxing to not have to be the big man on campus with her, you know?”

Kessler nodded in understanding.

“She was perfect. We were perfect together.”

“So what happened?” Kessler asked.

“I misread the play.” Trey blew out a heavy breath. “And I totally screwed it up.”

Fletcher whistled as he took a seat on the other side of Trey. “Been there. Done that.”

The kicker arched his eyebrows at Kessler.

“Hey, don’t look at me! It was Summer who misread the play in our relationship,” Kessler argued. His shoulders slumped. “Okay, I still effed it up by keeping secrets. But we’re not talking about me right now. Focus your Obi Wan wisdom on Van Horn.”

“Do you want what you had with her again?” Fletcher asked.

With everything he had.

But what if he wasn’t enough? What if he was like every other male in his family and he couldn’t give her the fairy tale? Was it worth the risk?

His shoulders slumped. “Even if I do, she’ll never trust me again.”

Fletcher stood, slapping him on the back before grabbing his helmet and shoving it into his bag. “Funny thing about trust. You can only earn it with genuine effort. Good thing you’re one of the most driven individuals I know. If you want her, focus some of your single-minded pigheadedness on earning her trust again.”

* * *

London downloadedand scheduled the last of the reels featuring Mooz-R-Ella onto the various social media platforms.

“You should consider a career in advertising,” Evan quipped when he sat down beside her in the Nolan and Hemphill conference room she’d been using as a temporary office for the past two weeks. “Oh, wait. You do work in advertising.” He smiled warmly. “This is one hell of a campaign, London. You should be proud.”

“Thank you.”

She was proud. Her first shot at big time advertising was working out better than she imagined. Relaxing against the back of her plush chair—she was certain it was the most comfortable work chair she’d ever sat in—she took in the breathtaking view from the windows surrounding the room. From high atop the fiftieth floor, she could see the shores of Lake Michigan, not to mention all of Chicago spread out below.

A girl could get used to this.

London was in the city putting the finishing touches on the first part of the Gunther campaign. The part geared for parents of school-age kids. After a tedious week of focus group testing, the ads had been tweaked and re-tweaked and were now ready to launch online, in print, and on radio and television next week.

Evan picked up one of the Mooz-R-Ella puppets from the conference table. “I need to steal a puppet for my kids. My son will be the hit of the first day of kindergarten if he has one of these before kids can win them.”

“Nothing is more effective at creating demand than kids who have to have the latest toy.” She handed Evan a second one. “Here, take two. Just don’t tell Seth Gunther. He’s pretty possessive of his stock.” She winked at him.

Evan shook his head slightly at the mention of Seth’s name. “I gotta hand it to the guy. He knows what he wants, and he goes after it. This deal is the talk of the industry. Everyone is going to be sniffing around trying to lure you away. We can’t afford to let that happen.”

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers as he eyed London. Unsure of what was coming, she found herself tensing up.

“Your contract with Westbrook runs through the end of the calendar year. Obviously when we absorb the firm, that contract will be with Nolan and Westbrook. We’d like to get ahead of the game and renegotiate as soon as possible. Given your new celebrity, we’d be foolish not to lock up your services for another two years.”

Was he serious?

Her pulse began to flutter wildly. “I haven’t even delivered the second part of this campaign yet.”

Evan waved her remark off. “I’ve seen enough to know you’ll be a tremendous asset to our team. The rest of the agency’s leadership agrees. We’re putting together a lucrative package that will include a salary I think you’re worthy of, as well as some benefits to sweeten the deal.”

“Wow.”

She worked with words every day, yet right now she was speechless. Was it really happening? Could her dream finally be coming true?

“I know you’re racing back to Milwaukee tonight. I saw the work order to begin filming Van Horn’s spots tomorrow. We can talk more about this next week when you get back.” He stood up. “Oh, and my wife wanted you to know that if you need help finding a place to live, she’d be happy to assist. She loves that kind of thing.” He sighed. “And you’d be doing me a favor. She’s on her ‘let’s move’ kick again. Helping you will distract her from looking for a new place for us. I’m not up for the hassle of moving right now.”

London laughed. “Thank you. That would be nice.”

Evan pulled on one of the puppets and waved to her. “See you next week.”

As soon as he was out of sight, London twirled the chair around a few times and let out a little shriek. She couldn’t wait to get back to Milwaukee to share the good news with Bennie. He was going to be thrilled. London was going to be a big-time account exec in Chicago!

The in Chicago part had her deflating a little bit. Things were getting real. And that meant they had to break the news to the staff. It also meant she would have to break Lucy’s heart.

The two women had enjoyed a girl’s weekend a couple of days ago thanks to the hotel suite on Lakeshore where Nolan and Hemphill were putting London up. The goal was to show her friend all the exciting and unique things they could do together in Chicago. That way, when she broke the news about the move, Lucy wouldn’t be too devastated. Except the weekend had been so enjoyable, making memories with her friend before her life was changed by motherhood, that London didn’t have the guts to ruin it.

Now it loomed over her even heavier than before.

Sighing, she closed her computer and packed it in her bag. She gathered up the remaining puppets and dumped them back into their shipping box. They were destined for an event at the Boys and Girls Club in Milwaukee later in the week.

With a wave to the receptionist, she carried her stuff to the express elevator down to the parking garage. It was time to face the music and head back to Milwaukee. These couple of weeks away felt as though she’d been in her own perfect bubble, focused on doing what she loved. Building her future in a new place. But reality waited.

She hopped on I-94, headed north and turned on the traffic station for Milwaukee. Arriving at rush hour meant a possible route change. Traffic was apparently already a mess around the city. The Growlers’ final preseason game was tonight.

How has she forgotten that?

Probably because she’d banned all thoughts of Trey Van Horn from ruining her trip. Sure, his name came up in production meetings and script writing sessions. But she’d been able to relegate him to a character in a campaign. Nothing more.

The technique worked brilliantly—until she was alone in bed at night. The kiss they shared in the stadium seemed to get hotter and hotter every time she relived it. Memories of the old Trey morphed into images of the current Trey until she couldn’t tell them apart. Which was even more ridiculous because they were the same person. Trey Van Horn was still the guy she’d fallen in love with.

Except something had happened to change him.

“If I had to give you up…”

London had spent several sleepless nights—not to mention a few bottles of wine—wondering what Trey had meant by that statement. He’d given her up? Why? And for whom?

Maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part, but his words offered some explanation for the abrupt way he left her, without so much as a goodbye or a backward glance. All this time she thought she’d done something wrong. That she wasn’t good enough.

But maybe not.

It was too late to salvage the blow to her confidence that had set her back a decade. Today’s job offer went a long way to heal that, though. Yet, the anger she’d spent years stockpiling toward Trey had begun to crumble, little by little, since he’d come back into her life.

That didn’t mean there would ever be anything between them, she reminded her girl parts. They’d both grown into the people they were meant to be, with careers that were taking them in different directions. She didn’t have time for distractions like Trey, no matter how sexy the packaging. Nope. The sizzle between them was nothing without trust. She could—and would—ignore it, finish the campaign, and move on with her new career.

Provided he didn’t have any more bombshell surprises lying in wait for her when she got to his home.