Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Coaching doesn’t pay what being a pro athlete makes.”
“Not much pays like that, son.” Dad laughs. “But you never played ball for the money.”
“No, but it’s a damn nice perk.”
He laughs again and pulls into the driveway. “You have a point. Coaches don’t do too badly, though. You can talk to your uncle Will about that. And you don’t have to decide today. You need to rest and heal up before you start thinking about which track you want to hop over to.”
“Dad.” My voice stops him before he opens the door to get out of the cab.
“Yeah?”
“I’m scared.”
He blows out a breath and nods, then leans over to kiss my hair the way he’s always done since I was a kid.
“I know, buddy. Don’t worry. We’ve got this.”
Chapter 1
Drew
“I don’t know how to say this without sounding disrespectful.” I push my thumbs into my eyeballs and wish that I were anywhere but here, in my own damn office. When I move my hands, London Ambrose is still standing on the other side of my desk, waiting expectantly.
“What?” She raises a perfect eyebrow. Jesus, the woman is gorgeous. And she’s the new co-owner of the professional football team that I coach for.
Which makes her and her brother, Rome, the youngest owners of a professional team, in any sport, ever.
She’s a billionaire in her early thirties and is absolutely stunning, but she drives me fucking crazy.
“I don’t care about the uniforms,” I reply simply. “I don’t care that they’re changing. And I don’t understand why you’d want my opinion on them.”
Her face, all smooth porcelain with lips the color of ripe raspberries and eyes as blue as the sky on a clear summer day, doesn’t change in the least. She doesn’t seem to be offended or affected in any way at all.
“You’re going to have to look at them,” she points out. “Every single weekend. More than that, actually.”
“Did you run it by Will?” My uncle, Will Montgomery, is the general manager of the team, as well as the president of operations. I was originally offered the defensive line coaching position, but when the spot for a quarterback coach came available, he hired me for that position a few months ago, and despite the raised eyebrows of the press and fans, I happily accepted. This is my dream job. “He’s the GM. He should be the one you talk to.”
“He suggested I come talk to you.” The side of her lips tips up into a small smile, showing just the hint of a dimple on her left cheek. “It seems the Montgomery men are putting me off.”
“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 ask me about 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, around me far 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.