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“Oh, she’ll be there. She’s still a little perturbed I didn’t invite her to hear me sing the anthem.”
He laughs. “Oh, I heard. You never have to guess what that woman is thinking. She has a standing open invitation to all games going forward.” His eyes roam the room like he’s looking for someone. “Our granddaughter is around here somewhere. She’s dying to meet you. She brought her guitar, hoping you’ll sign it.” Another couple walks in and catches his attention. “We’re so glad to have you both here tonight. Thank you for coming. This is going to be a fantastic event. Grab a drink and enjoy yourselves.”
They leave us to welcome others, and I survey the party as we inch further into the crowd. It’s like walking into a Stepford community where the women mirror each other. The men are either obviously Sean’s teammates or men who look like they belong in a high-rise office, telling someone to bring them coffee and connect their calls.
We make our way to the bar, and Sean orders two waters. I glance around, noticing it didn’t take long for heads to turn our way and whispering to commence.
One of Sean’s teammates approaches and sidles up the bar beside us, giving me the once-over.Oh, please, buddy.Interestingly, Sean must notice because he moves closer. My shoulder brushes his chest, but he doesn’t move back an inch.Hmmmm.I’ll have to dissect that little territorial display later.
“Well, this is going to be entertaining,” the guy says, flagging the bartender. His tone is just a little too cocky for my liking.
“What’s up, Charles?” Sean says, reaching around me to slap his hand.
Charles snickers. “I think I should be asking you. Look, I hate to be the one to tell you, but I drew the short straw. Morgan is here.”
Sean’s chest presses fully against me as I try to make sense of what this fool just said.
“Excuse me,” I say, catching his attention. “Um, what did you just say?”
He straightens and looks from me to Sean. “She’s here. One of the rookies brought her.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Sean says as I look around, wanting to see the sick chick who has made our lives hell. All I see is Sean’s friend Tyrell, with whom I assume is his wife, making a beeline for us.
“Dang, man. I can tell by that look you’ve already been warned.” Tyrell and his wife encircle us. “I know you’re both here to make sure next weekend is a success, but if you want to ditch, I’ll do the best I can to spread the word and make sure the guys show up ready to party.”
I move so that I can see Sean’s face. His eyes are hard, his body is stiff as a board, and his chest looks like it’s expanded three sizes with anger. He’s about to explode. I know I’m unwilling to let this woman ruin one more thing, including getting these people to give their all next weekend for the families we’ve invited, but I’m not sure if Sean can handle being in the same room with the woman who used his trust against him.
I lean, now pressed against him, hoping for a semi-private exchange. His chin tips down, and his eyes meet mine.
“We still in the ‘not giving a shit’ zone?” I ask, needing confirmation.
He blinks twice slowly like he’s trying to reel in his temper and comprehend what I said. Then, a small smirk crosses his lips. “Absolutely.”
“Then she’s the one who can leave.” I grin, ready to take someone out, one person in particular. “We have work to do. So let’s get to it.”
We’re about to step away from the bar when Tyrell sticks his arm out, stopping Sean. “What’s this I hear about a trade?” His voice is so soft I almost miss the question.
I look between the two of them, trying to figure out what they’re talking about.
Sean rubs his temples. “I don’t know.” He keeps his voice low. “I’m hoping it’s just rumors, but with all this…talk, you know it’s bad for business. Plus, you know running backs are more dispensable.”
Tyrell nods and rubs his chin like he understands but doesn’t like it one bit. I want to know what this is about.
Sean’s hand presses into the small of my back, and I take that as my cue to move on. I take a couple of steps forward but stop and turn to face him.
“What trade is he talking about?”
Sean’s chest rises and falls with a deep breath. “There is a rumor the Tigers are looking to trade me.”
I frown, not understanding. “What does that mean? Don’t you have a contract or something?”
“Yeah, I have one more year, but that doesn’t prevent them from trading me if it suits them or the team.”
“Just like a piece of property.” I glance around the room, taking it in. “If you only have a year left, why would they trade you?”
He shrugs. “My age. Too many injuries last season. Maybe they're looking to build up their defensive line. With only a season left, try to get a good trade deal while they can.” He pauses. “Maybe too much bad press.” He shakes his head. “It’s business, and no one likes negative reviews on their product.”
“Who makes that decision?” I whisper.
