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As if Blaire can read my mind, she finally speaks up. “Asher, you need this.”
“I don’t need anything.”
“You do if you want a chance in hell of getting back onto the field when you’re well. You know teams aren’t just looking for talent when they pick a quarterback.”
Groaning, I lace my fingers into my hair and tug, hard. I’m sure Colby is going to get a kick out of this—his best friend going from one of the league’s best quarterbacks to a fucking English teacher and coaching high school football. I can only imagine the jokes he’ll make at my expense.
“Well, I guess I don’t have a fucking choice, now do I?”
Blaire smiles like the cat that caught the damn canary, while Trent and Jon both sigh in relief. Douchebags, all of them.
I grudgingly sign the paperwork Jon needs to officially hire me, and ironically, Blaire comes prepared with all the required documents. If she wasn’t a woman, I’d probably lay her out just for the fun of it. When we’re finally done, I can’t seem to leave the school fast enough—ignoring Jon as he calls out about what an honor it is to have met me. As far as I’m concerned, he’s just had me sign my goddamn death certificate.
Here lies Asher Hawthorne’s dignity.
“Am I free to leave?” I ask Blaire.
It’s obvious she’s trying to hide her amusement by the way she swallows down a laugh. “For now. I’m going to be setting up an interview—over the phone, so no one can see your lack of enthusiasm for your new profession. I’ll have all the questions and your responses faxed over to your penthouse later this week.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic.”
I don’t wait for her to say anything else as I get in my car and slam the door. Trent jumps in just before I pull a
way, which is good for him, because I was about to leave his ass here. Today went from bad to worse. One wrong word out of his mouth and I just might snap. Luckily for him, he stays quiet as I drive back to his place.
“I’m going to get my things and stay at a hotel for the night,” I tell him as I pull into the driveway. “I’m still not ready to go back to my penthouse just yet, but I sure as hell can’t be here.”
He frowns. “Come on, man. You don’t need to do that.”
I shake my head adamantly. “I do. I’m not in the mood to hang out, and if I stay here, I’ll end up saying shit I don’t mean. Trust me when I say, it’s best if I go.”
It looks like he wants to argue it, but he knows better than to push me right now. So instead, he nods and gets out of the car. Thank fuck. At least something went the way I wanted in the last twenty-four hours.
OKAY, SO MAYBE BEING alone wasn’t the smartest choice. The suite I got is massive, and all I’ve done since I got here is pace. The rug will probably have track marks in it by the time I leave.
How the fuck did this happen? How did I go from having the world by the balls—both literally and figuratively—to this? Some washed-up quarterback making less money in a year than I used to make in an hour. It’s almost laughable.
My phone rings on the table, and Colby’s name flashes across the screen. I’m not stupid enough to ignore him. If I do, he’ll only make it worse for me.
“What?” I answer, not even bothering to hide my sour mood.
The chuckle he lets out makes me imagine punching him in his stupid, little, baby face. “Well, I was going to tell you about this crazy rumor that started circulating today, but judging by that greeting, I’m going to go out on a limb and say it’s not crazy at all.”
“Fuck off, asshat.”
Laughter booms over the line. “Aw, come on. Is that any way to talk to your best friend?”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t have a best friend. Only people I hate less than others. Right now, you’re not on that list.”
“Sure, I’m not. Okay, but in all seriousness, what the fuck?”
Throwing myself onto the bed, I groan. “Honestly, I’ve been asking myself that for the last two hours. This was all fucking Blaire’s doing.”
He exhales loudly. “Why don’t you just fire her ass?”
“Because that would be publicity suicide right now and you know it. She’s good at her job, I just don’t like her tactics.”
“Well, if you ever need someone to show her the door, I’m your man.”
