AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Get the wine?”my uncle asks when I meet him at the grill.
“Yep. Handed it off.”
“Good. Good. I just put these on the grill so good timing.” He closes the lid, wipes his hands, and then turns to look me over. “It’s gonna be a challenge here, you know.”
“I know.”
“The city doesn’t like you. The front office is wary but willing to trust me. Westfield is gonna be a problem, I’m sure.”
“Which one?” I laugh unsure if he means my ex the new Chaos PR person or her younger brother who’s about to be my new tight end.
“The one you gotta throw the ball to. If she’s a problem, you probably won’t have a job left when she’s done with you.”
“Yeah. It’s a risk.”
“Speaking of, I was in on a meeting with the marketing team, and they want someone on you full time. They want you to do everything in your power to try and charm the locals, and they think she can do it best. That it might even work better with her because of the animosity between our families. At first, I thought it sounded crazy, but I think it might actually make sense—she’ll know best why you’re hated. But they obviously don’t know you two have a history beyond that. I haven’t pushed back on the idea because I don’t want to give them a reason to worry if we don’t have to.”
“I haven’t talked with her in years. So I don’t know how she’ll react. I’d guess it’s ancient history to her.”
“But you? And be honest. I don’t need a heart-to-heart here,but I need to know what’s going on in your head. What I need to worry about.”
“You used her as bait to bring me here, and I came. That should tell you what you need to know.”
“Then if she doesn’t balk at the idea of babysitting you, you better be on your best behavior.”
“And what about you? You think you can coach Westfield’s kid without bias?”
“Seems like his kids don’t even like him much these days, so I guess we’ll see how it goes.”
I shake my head, smirking, and he returns it before he checks the steaks again. We stand in silence for a few moments, the sound of the birds and cicadas the only soundtrack before he looks up at me, something serious behind his eyes.
“I couldn’t pass up the opportunity here. The ability to fix this place from the ground up. Make a legacy. We might have our own history, but I believe in you. I like your chances here. You do this right, and I think you can get a spot up in Canton.”
I nod because I don’t have words. It’s the nicest thing he’s ever said to me, and it comes with a fuckton of pressure behind it. So now I’m really hoping Madison Westfield can work a miracle because I need her in more ways than one. That’s if she’ll even be on speaking terms with me.
3
Madison
I’d cometo the practice field this morning with the best of intentions. I had snacks, forms, and information for my new players in my bag. I came ready to dazzle them all with my ability to find them the best sponsorships for the most money the market could offer. I was all set to meet the new quarterback they drafted just a short while ago and help him learn the ropes here at the Chaos.
With my brother’s help and the quarterback’s local roots and reputation as a tireless volunteer at youth clinics during the offseason, a charity he’s already established that works to rehabilitate injured animals, and a 4.0 grade point average he earned while being one of the top draft picks this year—I’d have him with sponsorship deals lined up around the stadium and every fan wearing his jersey by the home opener.
That was until I found out that he wasn’t going to be thestarting quarterback after all. Instead, they’d traded with the Pittsburgh Rivermen for their quarterback. One who came with a reputation for being disinterested in his public image, unfriendly to the media, and without a single charity under his belt despite the fact he’s been in the league for just under a decade.
I also happen to know things about him not many other people do, like the fact he loves cookie dough ice cream, and leaves his would-be bride at the makeshift altar in the park without a single word. Not a letter, a telegram, or a carrier pigeon in sight. Just ten long years of silence. Apparently, Quentin Undergrove, my brother’s ex-best friend and my former fiancé, is my new PR client, and Ihateit.
I love a challenge. I spent my years in college with some of the toughest internships in the business. Ones I was able to get thanks to my family name but had built a reputation with on my own hard work. It means that now, before I even turn thirty next year, I’m known for being the woman who can fix things.
I’m the person you call when you have a problem athlete who needs to be sweet-talked, cajoled, and arm twisted into media submission. The one you bring in when things look dire and their personal life highlights on the gossip sites are outplaying their Sunday reels on the football talk shows. I’m the last line of defense against an early and bitter end to an otherwise promising career.
I’ve never met a client I couldn’t save, but it’s hard work on my part and the client’s. Lots of collaboration and time spent working together. Hours of personalized media training, developing customized plans for a comeback, and my very own day-to-day hands on image and media curation. These are the things that get me contracts like I currently have with the Chaos.
And now all of those hours, all of those dedicated days of my time that involve in-depth research into a person’s likes,habits, family life, and extracurriculars are supposed to be spent on my ex. A man I’d love to bury six feet under. A man whose personal life I actively avoid. A man who ripped out my heart, tore it to shreds, and made it nearly impossible for me to date or trust another guy for years. I wasn’t sure I could do it.
My younger brother and the tight end for the Chaos, Easton Westfield, stands at my side as I watch Quentin throw with his quarterback coach. He’s wholly unaware I’m on the field and I have no idea how he’ll react to my presence here—if anyone has bothered to warn him who his new PR person is. That he’ll have two Westfields to contend with. They wouldn’t know our personal history, but everyone in this league knows about the animosity between our families.
“I’m sure it’ll be a bitter pill for both of us to swallow,” I mutter as I stare at Quentin, annoyed that he looks as good as he ever has.
