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“I mean,” I start to stammer, which I hate. I take a breath to steady myself. “I don’t leave until tomorrow, so can I give you my answer then?”
They both nod their heads, and Oliver is enthusiastic in his reply. “Absolutely. You take your time. And we haven’t posted the position or anything, so you can even go back home and think about it some more. Talk to your people about it. We realize it’s a strange request, but we really felt right about asking you.”
“Thanks,” I say just as Britta enters the room. Sebastian stands immediately for his assistant, as if in deference to her. It’s an odd sight.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I have the people from Florida on the phone,” Britta says to Sebastian. “They said they have questions that can’t wait.” She lifts her tablet from under her arm as her fingers skim across the screen at a quick pace. “I’ll send the call to your phone if you’re finished here.”
Sebastian nods. “Can you also get that paperwork for Drake? It’s an extension of his contract. And I need you to transfer that gift over to my parents’ foundation. The amount we discussed.”
With fingers still flying over her screen, the older woman makes a one-syllable sound of complete understanding. As she heads out of the room, Sebastian removes his phone from his sports coat pocket.
I catch Oliver’s eye and mouth the name “Drake?” His lips twitch as he waits for Sebastian to join the call and leave the room.
“Drake’s one and only job is feeding Sebastian. I’m sure you’ll see him around.”
I stand from the table. I don’t know if I’ll see this Drake guy. But I might if I accept their offer.
Possibilities ping around in my brain.
“Thanks for coming in, Oakley,” Oliver says. “We look forward to working with you if you feel it’s a good fit.”
I smile as best as I can, but I have one more thing to say before I leave the room, go back to mine, and then die over the randomness of the last ten minutes of my life.
“Does Alec know you’ve asked me to do this?”
A strange wash goes over Oliver’s face. He looks as though he’s been caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar.
“Well, the answer to that’s a little complicated,” he says.
Chapter 12
Alec
After Oliver drops me off at the high school, being infuriatingly tight-lipped about what they needed to speak to Oakley about, I take up my usual position near the football field, next to a large weeping willow about twenty yards beyond the north endzone. It’s hot, so the shade feels nice. I’ve paid my dues for all those years spent on the field as a player. No harm in taking advantage of the shade.
The players warm up in their shorts and t-shirts. It’s not a regular practice. Since it’s summer, it’s a training camp, one that high schools across the country put on every summer. There’s a sense of comfort in knowing I could drop down from the sky into pretty much any random town anywhere in the U.S. and find the same thing: kids working their guts out for the love of the game.
I watch the routes the coach yells at them to run and my focus is trained mostly on the running backs. I don’t know exactly why I’m here, just that watching the symmetry lines things up in my brain, and I’m happier after I leave than I was before.
“You ready to come over and give me your two cents yet? Or am I supposed to divine it out of ya from here?” Coach Willis shouts as he walks towards me. Looks like the offensive players are taking a water break, so Coach Willis can come bug me about coming over to the sideline. He’s got a clipboard piled high with papers going every which way and a pencil hanging on a string, bouncing in the air as he walks. He’s got a linebacker build. I think he’s a couple of years older than me and single. And as a complement to the fifty-something, hard-nosed head coach, Matt Willis is the funny, good cop personality that the kids love.
I nod and start across the grass, and when we meet up, he whistles. “Will you look at that? Somebody’s got a spring in his step.”
Coach Willis teases and jokes almost as much as Oliver, and I’m getting used to it. “I’ve been working on my knee, dude. No more gangster swagger for me these days.”
“Who is she?” Willis asks, elbowing me hard in the ribs.
“Who is who?” I feign innocence, but of course Oakley comes to mind.
“The woman you’re finally getting out of your funk for? Don’t lie to me, bro. I know you didn’t just get up one day and decide to be happy.”
“I’ve always been happy,” I counter. But I don’t deny he’s on the right track as far as Oakley is concerned.
“You have not,” he says, his pointer finger going in the air. “Oh, and thanks very much for the donation.” His gaze is trained on me. This one is a little harder to fake through.
“Donation?” When I filled out the online form, I made sure I left any identifying information off. There was an anonymous option, and I even avoided using any of my personal devices so they couldn’t track me. Maybe they could tell I used the business center at the resort.
“I don’t want to embarrass you,” Willis says. “So I won’t talk about it again. But I wanted you to know that I figured it was you and truly, man, this is huge. It’s going to make a big difference for our program.”
