Chapter 29

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

The weather for the Growlers’season opener matched Trey’s mood perfectly: chilly and grey. His teammates knew enough to steer clear of him when he was in his pre-game mode. Too bad Collin hadn’t gotten the memo. His agent was lying in wait outside the locker room when Trey emerged for his pre-game warm-ups.

“Another season to break some records.” Collin fell into step beside him. “There are a couple of VIPs with field passes who’d like a photo-op with you.”

“I don’t care what they’d ‘like.’ I don’t do photo-ops on game day. I’m sure your dad mentioned that to you,” Trey told him curtly. “Photo-ops require random chit-chat and I don’t have time for that bullshit. I’ve got a game to play.”

They reached the edge of the tunnel leading to the field. Several players from the opposing team were headed in the direction of the visitor’s locker room.

“Look guys, it’s the big cheese,” one of the linemen called out. “Good luck today, Van Horn.”

Another player held up his cell phone. “Nothing says game day like cheese,” he teased. “Come on Van Horn, show me that cheesy smile of yours.”

Collin snorted. “At least we know the campaign is resonating with viewers. Speaking of which, Gunther is out there with his two grandsons. He’s expecting a photo-op and a little pass and catch action.”

“Then he’s going to be disappointed.”

Trey had fulfilled his end of the contract with Gunther Cheese. He didn’t owe the company’s annoying owner another damn thing. He’d only agreed to meet with the kids to make life easier for London. She didn’t need his protection any longer, however. Not when a big-name firm had her back.

In Chicago.

Part of him was so effing proud of her. The part that still felt guilty for not trusting his gut all those years ago. For causing her to lose faith in herself. London deserved this opportunity and she was going to do great things. Yet, there was a part of him that felt empty. Wounded that she hadn’t trusted him with her dreams. Even though he knew deep down he didn’t deserve her trust.

He gave a fist bump to one of the security guards, trying not to dwell too much on how things with London had ended. Going down that path had him wanting to punch someone. Himself, mainly, for thinking things would turn out differently. For hoping the Van Horn men weren’t cursed in the love department. Sure, Jay and Pops were happy right now. Trey didn’t need his Stanford degree to figure out it was only a matter of time before either man was crying in his beer again, though.

Beside him, Collin stopped short. “You sure you want to go that route? The kids will be disappointed, too.”

Trey halted also, shooting his agent a so-what look.

Collin rubbed the back of his neck. “I get it. The guy’s an ass. But those kids didn’t choose Seth Gunther for their grandfather. Not to mention how bad it might look if Gunther opens his mouth.”

As much as Trey hated to admit it, Collin was right. “Huh. Look at you being all responsible and agent-like.” He sighed in exasperation. “Promise them each a signed jersey and ball at the end of the game. And one—as in a single—photo with the two of them at the locker room door.”

“Got it. I’ll take care of it right now.”

Trey nodded and strode onto the field, headed for the fifty-yard line. A few cheers went up from the early bird fans who were already in the stadium. He glanced up toward the suites from where some of the cheers rained down. Likely from his mom and Jay who were watching from Trey’s suite, along with Pops and Olivia. A week ago, he’d imagined London and her family up there with Pops. The idea that his mom and dad would be there wasn’t even on his radar.

In the corner of the stadium, the Growlers’ band was warming up. Kessler was waving his hands as if he was directing them. His fiancée, Summer, laughed as she tugged him back toward the tunnel where they’d likely be making out until someone dragged the receiver’s ass into the locker room.

Fletcher was showing off his daughter to the other team’s kicker and punter. In fact, several of the Growlers had their kids on the field running amok. Even Coach Gibson’s daughter was practicing a cartwheel under the watchful eye of one of the cheerleaders.

Trey reached midfield, waiting for one of the trainers to show up to stretch him out. The guy was late. Probably lost in the pre-game frivolity that had settled over the whole damn team. Did anyone besides him care about preparing for today’s game?

He slowly spun around, an island in the center of the gridiron teaming with media, players and hangers-on. The wave of loneliness that washed over him nearly took him out at the knees. His gut clenched.

The hell with all these people.

He’d just do what he always did and carry the team on his back if he had to. He didn’t need anyone to “complete” him. He had the game of football. A game where he was the best in the league. Football was his only love. The thing he put first above all else. The only thing he could count on for contentment. He’d prove it to them again this season. Starting today.

The Growlers went on to rout their opponents, scoring six touchdowns, three of those on passes perfectly executed by Trey. The locker room was jubilant after the game, as if McGraff hadn’t dropped two passes. Or the offensive line had not allowed him to be forced from the pocket multiple times.

The team formed a ring three players deep around Coach Gibson who congratulated them on its victory before awarding the game ball to Trey. His teammates cheered.

Trey answered them with a scowl. “This is one game. We have twenty more to go before we can celebrate. Keep your eye on the prize, gentlemen. Today’s win means bupkis if we don’t win the whole damn thing.”

The vibe in the room shifted to something less raucous but still upbeat. Trey wound his way through the crowd, headed to his locker and a shower. He’d take the photo with Seth’s grandsons before spending the rest of the evening breaking down film and preparing for their next game. The familiarity of the routine soothed him. He understood football and the world within it. This was his life. And he was good with it.

* * *

London stepped off the elevator,juggling her coffee and the muffin she’d picked up at the Starbucks in the lobby. Since moving to Chicago five weeks earlier, she’d fallen into a routine of grabbing a quick breakfast to eat at her desk while she caught up on emails and other related tasks. Everyone else at Nolan and Hemphill did the same. She missed Swansons’ freshly-made Danish and the coffee the diner supplied to the Westbrook offices every day.

Mostly, though, she missed her morning chats with Bennie and the staff in the Westbrook conference room. She always enjoyed starting her day hearing about their families, their pets, or their weekend exploits. For some reason, she thought there would be lots of that type of camaraderie at Nolan and Hemphill given how many more people were employed at the firm. Instead, she’d found the opposite was true. People were friendly, they just kept to themselves.

“Give it time,” her mother advised her. “You’ll find your tribe within the agency.”

She smiled at the receptionist who was already busy with the phones. He winked back at her, gesturing to the phone in his hand and rolling his eyes. Everyone here was so busy. That’s probably why she hadn’t “found her tribe” so to speak. As soon as she began working with a team on an account, she’d have a work family again.

London wove her way through the canyon of cubicles toward hers, with its obstructed view of the John Hancock building and the neighbor who insisted on burning popcorn in the staff microwave at least once a day. Evan was sitting in her extra chair, scrolling through his phone when she arrived.

“Good morning, Evan,” she said as she hurried to put her things down and shed her coat. “I didn’t realize we had anything scheduled this morning.”

He waved a hand. “I just stopped by to compliment you on your meeting with the airline execs yesterday. They liked everything you pitched. Not that I’m surprised. Your ideas were spot on.”

London bit back the enormous grin that threatened. She’d thrown her heart into creating that outline, working day and night for the last three weeks, not wanting her first attempt to be a flop.

Not wanting to regret any decisions.

She hadn’t been a flop, though. And there were no reasons for regrets. She’d just landed a seven-million-dollar account with a major client on her first try. Even the music would be original to the campaign. It was all she could do not to pinch herself. Her wildest dreams were coming true.

“Thank you. I’m glad they liked them. So what happens next?”

“Contracts sends the paperwork over to their office, and as soon as all the ‘I’s are dotted and ‘T’s are crossed, we get to work. In the meantime, we’ll start assembling a team for you to work with. They want the spots ready to air before the holidays, so your workload is going to be nonstop for a while.”

“This is what I came here for. Bring it on.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He leaned forward in the chair, placing his elbows on his knees. “Once we kick this off, you won’t have time to consult on any of the other Westbrook accounts any longer.”

Something cold ran down her spine. “What do you mean?”

The expression in his eyes looked almost patronizing. “Darius in reception says you’ve been taking quite a few calls from the clients represented by Westbrook.”

WTF, Darius? You wink at me while ratting me out behind my back?

Of course she had been fielding calls from Westbrook clients. Orlando had reached a hiccup in his social media campaign for the tire store and he needed someone to brainstorm with. The local pet store had received some bad press when a customer accused them of selling him a diseased hamster. Brenda was having problems with the printers for the auction booklets needed for the gala next week. Turns out the printers were having issues with the paper supplier they normally used. The gala wasn’t going to happen without either matter being resolved today.

“I’m sorry. There have been a few bumps in the road with the transition of accounts. I didn’t foresee a problem with pitching in since we are all under the same umbrella now. But I can see where it might present a clerical issue when accounting for hours charged. It won’t happen again.”

At least not here in the office. She’d tell Brenda to send clients to her cellphone or personal email.

“Technically, we are not under the same umbrella yet. We’re still doing our due diligence deciding which accounts we’ll keep.”

Which accounts we’ll keep? What is he talking about?

“I was under the impression you were buying the firm in its entirety, that all the accounts would be transferred over.”

His mouth formed a thin line. “We can’t absorb accounts that aren’t paying on time, London. And from the looks of it, that’s most of Westbrook’s portfolio. The terms Bennie offered his clients were very generous. It’s a wonder he kept the agency solvent for as long as he did.”

She was aware Bennie was very lenient with clients who couldn’t pay for services in a timely manner, but there was never a time when payroll wasn’t met or the utility bill wasn’t paid.

“The agency always operated in the black,” she insisted.

“It did or we wouldn’t have agreed to the deal. Don’t get me wrong, Bennie is a shrewd businessman. His firm could have been three times the size if he hadn’t tried to keep every small business in Milwaukee afloat. You can only be a nice guy and survive in business for so long, though.”

Her mouth was suddenly dry. “How many accounts are you planning on keeping?”

“Gunther’s, of course. It seems likely the paper companies will be onboarded, also.” He shrugged.

“That’s all?” she choked out.

“None of the others make sense from a profitability standpoint.”

“And the staff?” She wasn’t sure she could handle the answer to that question.

“We’ll take on a few of them here in Chicago. The others will be given a decent severance package that they wouldn’t have received if Westbrook was on its own.”

London hoped he didn’t expect a pat on the back for that last statement. She didn’t trust her hand not to shake. The matter-of-fact way he’d discussed the people she loved had her reeling.

Her cellphone buzzed with a text. She glanced down at her watch and saw the text was from Mike.

Call me ASAP.

Lucy’s husband rarely texted. Her stomach sank.

The baby!

“I’m sorry, Evan. I need to make a call. It’s a family matter.”

He eyed her curiously as he stood. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that you signed an NDA with your contract.”

She blinked twice. Did he really think she wasn’t professional enough to keep her mouth shut? So much for making her feel like a valued employee.

“Don’t worry. I’ll leave the dismantling of Westbrook to your capable hands.”

If he noticed her sarcasm, he ignored it. He nodded and walked away. She dug her phone out of her bag and dialed Mike’s number. He picked up midway before the first ring.

“What’s wrong?” she asked before he got a chance to even say hello.

“It’s Lucy. Her blood pressure is through the roof. The doctor is admitting her to the hospital. They’re saying she has preeclampsia.”

“Oh, God.”

“Look, Lon, I realize you’ve got this big account you’re working on, but if you could maybe spare a couple of hours this weekend to come up and see her, I know it would do her a world of good. She’d never ask you because she likes to be tough. But, she’s scared. Frankly, so am I.”

London already had her coat on and was grabbing her bag. “I’ll be there in two hours.”

“Seriously? What about work?”

“The hell with work.”

* * *

The waitingroom was crowded with members of both Mike and Lucy’s families. Mike’s niece, Tina, raced over and wrapped her arms around London’s hips.

“They won’t let us all go back there,” she moaned against London’s stomach.

Given that there were twenty-nine people from three generations waiting to see Lucy, London could understand why.

“Isn’t anyone working in the stores today?” she teased.

Lucy’s mom quickly stood. London didn’t think she’d ever seen the woman looking more anxious.

“It’s going to be okay,” London reassured her as they embraced. “Lucy wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Mrs. An nodded. “Down the hall. Third door on the left. She’ll be glad to see you.”

Even with her ever-growing belly, Lucy looked small in the hospital bed. So small that London had to stop and catch her breath.

“London? What are you doing here?” Lucy said when she spied London hovering in the doorway.

“I heard my godchild was giving you a hard time and I figured I’d better come and play peacemaker.” She slipped off her coat and placed it on a nearby chair. “I figure I have years of this to look forward to. Especially if it’s a girl.”

Lucy laughed weakly. Mike pulled London into a bear hug before planting a kiss on her cheek.

“I’m going to grab a cup of coffee,” he announced. “Can I get you ladies anything?”

They both shook their heads. Mike leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to Lucy’s lips. “I’ll be right back” He looked over at London. “I’d tell you both to behave, but since that never seems to deter either of you, I won’t bother.”

“I was only a little scared before, but seeing you here is making me really nervous,” Lucy whispered. “What aren’t they telling me?”

London adjusted some of the tubes and wires her friend was hooked up to. “Scooch over,” she commanded.

Lucy moved to the far edge of the bed. London slid in beside her. She opened her arms and Lucy snuggled against her side.

“You and baby are going to be fine. You hear me. Perfect, in fact. It turns out Mike is a little skittish in hospitals. Who knew?” She stroked Lucy’s hair.

She could tell her friend wasn’t buying what London was selling, but she didn’t protest. “I know you’re really busy at the new firm. You don’t have time to come take care of me.”

“Actually, I had a free weekend. I landed the airline account, Luce. My first big deal. Can you believe it?”

“Of course, I can. You rock, girl.” She hugged London. “I’m so proud of you.”

Too bad London wasn’t feeling as proud of herself. Not after everything Evan told her earlier. She’d gotten her dream job, sure, but she couldn’t help feeling it was at the expense of her co-workers and the Westbrook clients. And that didn’t sit well with her.

Did Bennie know about Nolan and Hemphill’s plans? She brushed the thought aside. Now wasn’t the time to be worrying about anything other than Lucy and the baby. To show her friend that even though she’d moved away, their friendship was still a priority.

“Now you’re stuck with me for a few days while all this gets cleared up,” she said. “Fortunately for you, I know a baker who is making your favorite red velvet cupcakes as we speak.”

Lucy moaned. “I knew I kept you around as a best friend for a reason.”

A contented silence fell over the room, punctuated only by the beep of the monitors and the pages over the intercom in the hallway.

“Isn’t it ironic that my mother had five kids without incident. Yet here I am struggling every step of the way. Why do you think that is?”

London brushed a hand over her friend’s belly. “If you are trying to blame yourself, stop it right now, Lucille. You’ve done nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. Unfortunately, the universe is just being a fickle bitch right now.”

Lucy covered London’s hand with her own. “Why does it sound like you’re speaking from experience?”

“Don’t try to change the subject away from you.”

The other woman laughed. “Uh, hello? I’m pretty sure that’s why Mike called you. To distract me. Spill it, girlfriend. Get my mind off this mess.”

She sighed. The words she’d refused to acknowledge for weeks now suddenly tumbled from her mouth. “What if what I thought I wanted at eighteen isn’t what I want today?”

“I’m fairly certain the textbooks refer to that as maturity.”

“Oh, Luce, I think I’ve made a big mess of my life.”

Lucy squeezed her hand. “Are you regretting taking the job in Chicago?”

“I’m regretting everything.”

“By ‘everything,’ do you also mean not allowing yourself to be loved?”

London turned to her friend with a shocked stare.

“God, I hope this child is not as pig-headed as the two of you are,” Lucy huffed. “Yeah, yeah, Trey says he doesn’t believe in love. Guys are idiots, Lon. It’s up to you to convince him otherwise. But you can’t do that if you don’t believe a man could love you unconditionally. Because you weren’t looking hard enough. Every time that man looked your way there was love shining in his eyes. So much love. He was just too dumb to know what it was. And you—” She poked London in the ribs. “You had blinders on too thick to see it. Or maybe it was just the lust blinding you both. Who knows?”

Lucy laid her head on London’s shoulder.

“Not to worry, though. This mama has nothing but time on her hands right now, and she is going to manifest a way to fix this for you.”

“I think it might be too late for that.”

“Pfft. It’s never too late. You just need a grand gesture. Every romance novel I’ve read has one. All we need to do is come up with yours.” She patted London’s thigh. “Leave it to me.”

London was surprised at how light she suddenly felt. She wasn’t so sure about Lucy’s grand gesture nonsense. Yet, she was buoyed by her friend’s insights about Trey. Could he love her and not realize it? More importantly, did she trust him with her heart?

“I’m so glad you can stay a few days,” Lucy murmured sleepily.

“Mm.” London smoothed Lucy’s hair. A few days wasn’t going to cut it. She felt lighter because she was where she belonged. Home. With her chosen family and found career. She’d tell her friend later that she was home to stay.