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My father leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. “Let me guess. He wants me to increase the budget for the players so he can get some hotshot to inject jealousy into the other players.”
He was one hundred percent right. “How did you know?”
His drink was finished, and out of nowhere a waiter appeared with another. “Everleigh, I’ve been in this game a lot longer than you.”
“I think he’s right.” I sat a little taller. It was time for me to fully step into my role. My trepidation and insecurity from this morning had been replaced with a newfound fire to make the Thunder the best damn team in the league.
My father laughed. “I think he is too. Who did you two have in mind?”
“Liam Bradshaw.”
For the first time ever, I saw my father choke on his drink. “Excuse me.” He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “No.”
“No?”
“I don’t think he’s the right fit for the team.”
“I beg to differ.” My excitement was building as I realized Bradshaw was the perfect player for the team. “He’s innovative and driven, and he’s a team player who is loved by his fans.”
My father looked like he was thinking about it. “No, Everleigh. I’ll give you money for a player, but not that one.”
It was the second time that day that a man had stepped on my role as general manager. “Mr. King, you hired me to manage this team. I’ve done the research, watched hours of tapes, and discussed it with management. This is the player we want.”
Our first course arrived, a salmon salad – something that I usually loved. But that day, the smell brought on a bout of nausea. I gulped down the sensation, realizing that the stress of the day had really gotten to me. I forced myself to take a bite of the salad, but just the greens.
“Have you discussed this with the captain?”
“You mean your son?” I took a sip of water to wash down the bite of salad. It was staying down. So far so good. “Why would I discuss a decision like this with one of the players?”
“Your brother isn’t a fighter, and Bradshaw is the only player he’s brawled with in years. He hates him. Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring in that kind of rivalry?”
I set down my fork and folded my hands together under my chin. “Yes.”
A smile spread across William King’s face. “Alright, Miss King. Your passion is infectious. For the record, I think it’s a mistake. But I trust your judgement. Just don’t come to me when Colton and this Liam kid punch each other’s lights out.”
“Thank you, Dad…Mr. King,” I corrected.
“You’re welcome. Now, what other business do we have to discuss?”
I didn’t want to push the issue about firing Coach. Getting my father to agree to acquire Bradshaw was a huge win for the day, and maybe enough to give the team what they needed. I would deal with Coach on my own. I didn’t need to tattletale to my father about him and how he had circumvented me to get approval for the line changes. I was a big girl, and Coach had messed with the wrong King.
“That’s it.” I smiled.
“Good. Because I have a favor to ask.”
“A favor?”
“It’s about the wedding.”
In all the drama of the morning I’d completely forgotten about the wedding. It was still months away. “I’m being nice to Marisa, I promise.”
He smiled. “I know. She’s told me all about it. And Everleigh, I’m so happy that you’re treating Marisa better than the last one.”
“What can I say? I’m turning over a new leaf. But really, Dad, I just want you to be happy.”
William King had never cried in front of me, but I thought I saw a shimmer in his eye. “Me too, Sweetheart. I want the same for you and your brother. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. There’s a new company I’m considering acquiring, and I was hoping that you could show one of the partners around town.”
I paused, about to try another bite of my salad. “I’m not a tour guide.”
