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“I think they want to talk to you about their positions.” She leaned into the door. I realized she wanted to make sure none of them were aware she was sharing their conversations with me. “Some of them brought their agents. I’m surprised we don’t have a union rep in the lobby.”
I felt my stomach role with uneasiness. I didn’t know anything about dealing with agents, let alone the players. I had met Coach Applewhite several times. My grandfather invited him over for dinner here and there. And he seemed the most genuinely distressed at the memorial service. But he was abrasive, and the kind of man who liked to push people around. I guess he needed that skill as a coach. I didn’t look forward to a meeting with him.
I looked at her for reassurance. “A union rep? They would send one?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not really my area.”
It was ridiculous for me to lean on her right now. I was expecting too much.
“Right. Of course not.” I took a deep breath. “What are the players’ names?”
I knew every single man on the roster. Twenty-six years in the McCade box had taught me that much. I couldn’t help but memorize them. It was an uncanny skill I had. I catalogued names from movies and books. I could tell you the order of kids at my high school graduation. I also remembered the names of the opposing team players. Once I heard them, they just stuck.
She looked over her shoulder to survey the lineup as if she could see through the door. “Isaac Price was the first one here."
He was one of the team’s top wide receivers. He was as popular in Austin as Luke Canton, the Warriors’ quarterback. I was slightly relieved she hadn’t mentioned him. He used to be a nightmare.
I twisted my lips together, thinking about the approach my grandfather would take. I tried to play out how he would handle this situation.
Then I did the exact opposite.
“Send Isaac Price in,” I instructed.
I could tell she was surprised by my selection, but I knew it wouldn’t be the last time. I was like a new baby deer trying to get my footing. I was going to stumble and make mistakes. I was in over my head. I had already known that for the last two weeks. I just couldn’t let everyone else figure it out too.
Three
Isaac
Since McCade died, the team was in chaos. I saw grown men panic. It did something to me. Someone had to take charge.
I’d seen stuff like this happen before. Ownership changed. Teams were bought and sold. The first one in the door. The first one who had ownership’s ear was the one who pulled the strings. Maybe I was stupid for thinking I could be that person, but someone had to represent the players. Someone had to stick up for the guys on the team.
It might as well be me. We were a brotherhood. It wasn’t the same bond I had with the guys on my Seal team, but there was something that held us together. I think that happened when we bled and sweated together on the field. I wasn’t going to leave them behind without a fight.
Candy walked in front of us, straightening her short skirt and lowering her eyes to the chipped floor. The old man had always liked pretty assistants. He didn't seem to care how young they were. Maybe he thought they camouflaged the rest of the office. She opened her pouty lips.
“Ms. McCade would like to see you, Isaac.”
“What the hell?” Coach roared, his voice echoing off the walls. “I was here at 7 am. I want to have a meeting with her now. I’ve had to wait two weeks for this.” He pressed his index finger into the center of the coffee table, leaving smudge marks.
Candy took a step back, almost tripping on her high heels. I lunged forward thinking she was about to fall and grabbed her by the waist. She laughed nervously. “Thank you, Isaac.”
“No problem, girl.”
Candy had a reputation for making her way through the team. I had never fucked her, but it didn't mean I hadn’t thought about it. Dylan had a few times, and that meant she was automatically off limits. We shared a lot of things, but never women. I wasn’t going there, no matter how pretty she was, or how many times she offered her bed.
I let go of her waist. Coach stood, eyeing me sharply. “Let me handle this, Price. I don’t think McCade’s granddaughter knows what she’s doing. I’ll talk to her. Why don’t you head down to the locker room?”
I scratched the back of my head, feeling the irritation blister through my veins. He might be in charge of me on the field. During practice. And during a game. But this man did not dictate my career, or my paycheck. Like hell if he was getting in there ahead of me. I stepped to the side, moving Candy away from me.
“Coach, I think I’ll take my meeting.” My eyes bored into his. There were other men who counted on me to be here.
“Son, I don’t think that’s wise.” Applewhite was at least six inches shorter than me, but the man had a bark. A loud voice that would make women shrink and some men tense up. But I wasn't one of those men. “I don’t think you understand the relationship between the team and ownership runs through me.”
I respected the man on the field, but that didn’t mean I was going to let him get to ownership first. My contract meant everything to me. This was my legacy. This was the only insurance I had that if I stepped on the field tomorrow and broke a leg, that I could survive the rest of my life on what I had given to this team. He wasn't going to take that away from me.
“Coach, I'm going to have my meeting. I’ll let you know what ownership says.”I brushed past him, ignoring the glare dripping off him. There might be hell to pay at practice, but I’d pay it.
