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My mind starts processing. “Was it with the physician? Are they worried he isn’t ready for Sunday?”
“No, nothing like that,” my brother insists, running his hand through his hair. “It was another meeting. A coach.”
I blink a few times, glancing around as I think. “But his contract says the negotiations aren’t until after week seven. That’s two more weeks yet,” I argue.
Caleb closes his eyes. “It was another coach. He went to see the offensive coordinator.”
Realization sets in and my throat is suddenly Sahara dry. I turn, worry and fear gripping my chest. This can’t be good. Not at all. Especially since we both agreed that when this conversation happened, I’d be there too.
Now, he’s dealing with this alone, and there’s nothing I can do to help him, except sit back and wait for him to get home.
From a meeting with my father.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Brock
As soon as I drop Caleb off, I head back to the stadium. Richard doesn’t know that I’m coming, and that’s exactly how I want it. I have the element of surprise on my side. My agent and the GM have both assured me that the trade rumors are, in fact, that, just rumors. They claim they were started on social media, and that may be true, but it’s still from Richard’s asinine comments.
I’m done playing games with him. He needs to know that nothing he says about me and no amount of trade rumors or hell, even a trade, is going to keep me from his daughter. I know that my past was somewhat promiscuous, but it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the tabloids made it out to be. The past is in the past, and meeting Joey changed me. She’s all I see, and it’s time he understands that.
Pulling back into the players’ lot, I grab my keys and phone and make my way back inside. The security guard, John, tilts his head in acknowledgment as I pass him, making my way to the locker room. Pushing inside, I walk through the empty room and back toward the offices. Coach Matthews is already gone, but Iknew he would be. His kid had something going on today, which is why practice actually ended on time for once.
My feet carry me a little farther until I reach Richard’s door. Ramblers’ offensive coordinator, followed by his name, is stuck to the wall beside the doorframe. I like to think Dick is more fitting. At least it’s an appropriate nickname for him, and I won’t get called out on it if I slip and call him that to the media. A smile tilts my lips. I might just have to do that. It’s a name I know from both of his children that he loathes.
Without knocking, I step inside of his office. He looks up when he hears me enter and scowls. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me.
“I’m here to talk, and you’re going to listen.” I don’t stop moving until I’m standing in front of his desk between two chairs. I won’t be sitting because this won’t take long.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“I don’t really give a fuck.” I shrug. “You’re going to sit there and listen to me. Because I do have something to say to you.”
He opens his mouth to argue, but I hit him with a glare, similar to the one he just gave me, and that shuts him up.
“Item number one.” I hold up one finger. “You’re a dick. Dick.” His forehead scrunches up, and the tops of his ears turn red. Both give me immense satisfaction.
“Item number two.” I hold up two fingers. “You, sir, are shit for a father. When Joey and I have kids, I swear to you I’ll be the opposite of every fucking thing you are to her.”
“I’ve provided for her,” he counters.
“She didn’t need your fucking money or fancy-ass apartments. She needed you.You. Her father. She needed one fucking adult in her life to love her and to listen to her. She needed a dad, not a football superstar to toss money her way. Sure, you might have given her the best that money can buy,but all that girl ever wanted was love. Your love, and you denied her.”
“I love my daughter,” he says, sitting up straighter in his chair.
“Yeah? You love her? Then why do you never listen to a damn thing she has to say? She was so nervous to tell you about us because she knew you would fly off the handle. And let’s be real, Dick, it’s not my past that you’re afraid of. It’s your own. You know how so many in this league live with a woman in every city. In fact, that’s how Joey got here. You, a married man, sleeping with a jersey chaser.”
It’s no longer just the tips of his ears that are red, but his entire face. “Fuck you. You don’t know anything.”
“Item number three.” I hold up three fingers. “Your jersey chaser was never a mother to Joey. She manipulated you to get more and more money, but none of it went to Joey. Not a single penny. She had you hook, line, and sinker.” I pause for just a few seconds, letting that tidbit of information sink in. “Ah, I see the shocked look on your face. This takes me back to item number two. If you were any kind of father and had built a relationship with your daughter, this wouldn’t be new information. Instead, all you wanted to do was parade your trophy wives around and toss money at her. You tried to buy her love, Richard, but you didn’t need to. She loved you regardless.”
“I-I didn’t—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Of course you didn’t. I believe both items one and two both apply here.”
He scoffs but remains quiet.
