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When the waiter takes away our menus, I smile at Oakley. “If you hadn’t asked for the steak, I would have ordered two and given one of them to you. They’re that good. Besides, who knows when you’ll be back here again to get one.” It’s a roundabout way to ask an important question. My mind is finding it harder and harder to wrap itself around the idea that she’s leaving in the morning. I’d love to know if she ever plans to come back.
She catches my gaze and then clears her throat. “About that.” She takes a sip of water before continuing. “I met with your brothers this afternoon.”
My jaw clamps down hard. Summoning her, like they were royalty and she was forced to come to court.
“I asked them what that was all about.” I lean forward on the table. “I still don’t know why they called you in, but don’t let them push you around.”
She pulls off a chunk of a dinner roll from the basket on the table. “I won’t.” She eats the bread, watching me carefully as she chews.
I shunt out a breath. “Oliver can be a real pain in the butt but he’s not all bad. I—I haven’t dated in awhile and they probably got overeager that we were spending time together…working on my knee.” I search her expression.
Her smile is shaky. “It didn’t really have to do with your knee.”
“Then what was it?”
Her mouth is thin. “They offered me a job.”
“Here at the resort?”
“Uh huh. A personal trainer position.”
My brothers have gone too far, and I can’t wait to let them know that. I swipe the linen napkin across my mouth. “What makes them think someone with your experience would be interested in that? That’s sort of entry level.”
“They said as much. But then they said they’d take me for however long I wanted to stay, and if it didn’t turn out to be the right fit for me, that was okay. They want someone to teach fitness classes and give personal training sessions, room and board included.”
They’ve overstepped. They should have asked me about this before offering her the job. Still, the thought that she might not go back to San Antonio pings in my brain. “I told them what you do for a living, and it’s not that.”
Her brows go in the air. “I wondered why they didn’t seem surprised when I told them about my job. Uh, my former job.”
“I guess I don’t understand what their end goal is. And I know you wanted to find a job with another team.”
She swallows hard, then takes a sip of her water. “I do. But working for the NFL isn’t all bubbles and bunnies.”
I laugh while feeling my nostrils flare. I know what she’s saying is true. In the hierarchy of the San Antonio Wolves administration, there were some bad apples. “Was there discrimination? Is that why you quit?”
“No, not exactly. Brandt wasn’t what he was pretending to be. And when I went to his father to let him know that…well, let’s just say I might not ever be able to work for the NFL again.” She stops and focuses on twisting her napkin up in her lap.
“I’m not surprised. Jeff Bordy has always struck me as someone who’d do anything to get what he wants and to protect his own.“ I knock back a drink of water, grunting at the plain taste of it. Just because I don’t drink anymore doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice sometimes.
“Brandt took some money from me.” She dips her chin and inhales slowly. “I just couldn’t take working there anymore. I had to leave.”
“Are you kidding me? He stole from you? When did you discover this?”
A barbed laugh escapes her lips. “I found out on a Wednesday, confronted him that same day, went to his father the next day.” She clears her throat and balls the napkin up tightly. “That didn’t go well. So the day after that, I was on a flight here.”
“Wow. That’s a lot at once.”
She shoots me a glance and then gazes at the ceiling. “Life altering.”
“I’m so sorry that happened. Brandt’s a terrible human being. What did the police say?”
Her gaze is pain-soaked. “I haven’t been to the police yet. Look, please don’t say anything. I still haven’t figured out what to do.”
“I won’t.” Anger seeps from my middle. Anger at the Bordy’s…and that the police don’t have a clue. “I haven’t spoken with anyone from the team in a while. But still. I won’t say anything.”
I want to do nothing but to fly to San Antonio myself and put both Bordys in a chokehold. But I have to be careful, for Oakley’s sake. There’s a whole lot to unpack, and none of it makes sense.
The quiet stretches before us as we listen to the soft music the restaurant has piped in. It’s ‘70s mellow Jazz. I’m not a huge fan, but it seems to be calming me a little regardless.
