AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I think you should choose whatever you like and send it through for approval from the league. As long as they don’t burn our retinas out, we won’t care. Players included.”
“Fine.” She sighs and checks her watch. “Crap, I have to go. See you tomorrow.”
She waves and hurries out of my office, moving as quickly as her sky-high heels and skinny black pencil skirt will carry her.
Which, I have to admit, is remarkably fast.
I check the time myself and see that it’s only about two in the afternoon. That’s another thing that irritates the hell out of me when it comes to the new bosses.
They’re never here.
I guess if you’re a billionaire, you can keep the hours you want while the people you hire dig in and do the dirty work.
I don’t know why that grates on me, exactly.
“Why are you scowling like that?”
I glance up and see Will walk through the door and then sit across from me.
“I’m not scowling.”
“Oh, yeah.” He grins and crosses an ankle on his knee. “You are. Did London piss you off again?”
“Why did you tell her to come askmeabout the damn uniforms? Again.”
He laughs and shrugs. “Because I don’t give a shit.”
“Well, I don’t either. She hangs around my office, aroundmefar too much for my liking. Aren’t owners supposed to just show up for games and talk to reporters and shit? Why is she always here?”
“She wants to take a more hands-on approach,” Will says simply. “Her brother handles things on the weekends.”
“That’s the other thing.” I stand and pace my small office. “He shows up to all the games, but she doesn’t. That doesn’t make any sense to me. She’s here all week but can’t be bothered to show up when we’re actually doing what we’re paid to do?”
“You’re awfully worked up about this.”
I blow out a breath and shove my hands into my pockets. “You’re right. It’s stupid. Let them do what they want.”
I shake my head and sit once more.
“What’s up?”
“Well, we’re halfway into the season, so I thought I’d check in to see how you’re doing.”
“Are you making the rounds to all the staff?”
He just waits for me to reply to him.
“I love my job.” I frown a little, realizing for the first time that it’s absolutely, unequivocally the truth. “I understand that at twenty-seven, I’m not much older than the players. Hell, some are a little older than me, but they’re respectful.”
“That’s because you’re fucking good at what you do, and they respect you for it. Age doesn’t matter.”
“It can matter. We get along well, and I think we’ve hit a good stride. But I have moments of imposter syndrome.”
“You’re doing a hell of a job. We’re happy with the performance of the quarterbacks. There’s always room for more training, but you’re having a great season. Shake off the doubt. It won’t serve you in this position.”
“I was surprised when the plan changed, and I was offered the quarterback coaching position rather than defense.”
“But you never wanted defense,” he points out. “That’s what you did because it was available at the time.”
