Win Big:A Bad Boy Sports Romance(35)

"It's simple," she answered, flashing me a playful smile. "We're watching the reason on TV right now."

Once the introductions and inspirational soundbites were out of the way, the NFL commissioner started the ten-minute countdown for the Los Angeles Rams to select the first pick for Round One. Kristy and I were ecstatic, jumping out of our seats and acting the fool when the commissioner returned and announced that Slade had won first pick and would be headed to LA. That was historic news for our college. I was so proud. His making the first pick was a testament to the great coaching program we had.

My breath caught when I got my first glance Evan in the audience. Kristy and I had settled down and watched the other players from our college surround Slade, who was now the focal point of camera crews after he returned to his seat. Evan was with them. I shouldn't have had this feeling in my stomach re-emerge, but I did. My eyes squinted to figure out who he sat with. It looked like his family, but I honestly couldn't tell.

The show went on, and we continued packing our things as names were called from other schools. None of our players were called for a while, but we tuned back in, watching like a hawk when they mentioned the Saints had the seventh pick. We got out of our seats and braced ourselves when the commissioner got back on stage after the time ran down.

"History is in the making tonight, ladies and gentlemen. For the seventh pick of the 2016 NFL Draft, the New Orleans Saints have selected … Evan Marshall, wide receiver, Louisiana State!"

Kristy bounced in the air, shaking my arm so I'd celebrate too. I stared at the screen as he got to his feet, hugged his family and teammates, and ran up on stage to get his hat. I was happy for him. All that work with him during his recovery had paid off.

It was bitter-sweet.

We eventually sat and watched bits and pieces of the rest of the show. About half an hour later, my phone rang. I suspected it was Evan, so I ignored it. Then it rang again.

Kristy turned to look at me from her spot at the closet. "Are you gonna answer that or do I have to do it for you?"

"Just ignore it."

"Like hell I am." She raced over to my desk and scooped up the phone, answering on the last ring with a wide grin on her face. "Hello? Samantha's phone. What can I do you for?" When she heard the person on the other end, she turned serious. "Oh, yes of course, Dr. Jeffries. She's right here."

Christ, why was Dr. Jeffries calling? It couldn't be good, but it was too late to have him leave a message, thanks to Kristy. I took the phone from her, and noticed she had muted the call. Good. I could tell her off, even if it was only for a second.

"Thanks," I said in my most snarky voice, then murmured, "Meddling bitch."

"I heard you and you're welcome," she cooed. "Oh, the other line is beeping too. You're popular!"

"Whatever." Turning off the mute setting, I answered. "Hello? Dr. Jeffries?"

"Good evening, Samantha. How are you this evening?"

"Fine, Professor. Can I help you with something?"

"Samantha, I take it you saw that our college has had some tremendous success tonight during the NFL Draft first round."

"I did. I'm still watching. It's excellent news."                       
       
           



       

"Glad that you saw it. The part you may not have seen was … is that your other line beeping?"

"Yes sir. It's been ringing a lot since the announcement about Evan Marshall. I'm sorry if it's a distraction. I can phone you from the dorm's land line if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary. I was saying that you didn't see Evan's post-acceptance interview, which is probably the catalyst for all the phone calls you'll be receiving."

"Sorry, I'm not following."

"Evan specifically mentioned your name during an interview that's already been airing on some of Louisiana's TV and cable networks. He credited you with his fast recovery … which is why I'm phoning."

"Oh … I didn't know … that's great." Boy, did Dr. Jeffries have me confused. What did that have to do with anything?

"Samantha, we'd like to offer you a full-time position on the staff. The official title is Assistant Trainer, Athletic Therapist. If you're available tomorrow, you can come down to my office for details."

"Oh my God, thank you! Sure! I can be there in the morning for sure. Thanks Dr. Jeffries."

"Don't thank me yet. I just wanted to get the offer in before you're scooped up by some NFL team that makes you an offer you can't refuse. See you tomorrow, Samantha. And great job."

"Thanks, professor! See you then."

I ended the call and turned to Kristy. "I got a job offer here at the college!"

The phone rang again, but I muted the volume.

"Congratulations, honey! That's fantastic. What did he say?"

"Crap, this phone keeps buzzing. Oh! I need you to find a local channel. Apparently Evan mentioned me an interview that's gone viral or something."

"What? What did he say?"

"I don't know but this is why my phone's blowing up. Before I take any more calls I want to find out what he said."

We couldn't find the interview on our sorry excuse for a cable plan, so Kristy checked her phone and found it on the NFL site. "Come check it out!" She skipped ahead to about a third of the video then pressed play.

"You've had quite a year," the reporter said. "From the high of scoring that touchdown that led to the SEC win, to the lows of your unfortunate post-season injury. Tell us how you made it back to dominate at the combine."

"That's easy," Evan answered. "I had the best medical staff and great athletic therapy. The team was great, and I'd like to send special thanks to the student trainer charged with helping me almost every day for six weeks. Her name is Samantha Woodward."

"And she's your athletic therapist?"

"She was. That and more … Miss Woodward …  she knew how to help me right from the start. As a trainer and therapist, she is competent and compassionate. She worked hard to get me here, pushing me through the pain early on, encouraging me to keep my head in the game, and helped me to finish strong at least ten days before I got to the combine. I wouldn't have made it there without her. I doubt I'd be seventh pick, either. So Samantha, if you're listening, thank you for making the best of a tough situation, putting up with my attitude and most of all, thanks for enduring the sacrifices you had to make, having your plans to help major league baseball candidates on hold to help me get here. I owe you."

"She sounds like a talented professional."

"Yeah. She is all that and more."



Wow.

I just had my world shaken for the second time in less than half hour.

Kristy put her phone down and tapped me on the shoulder. "You know what this means, right?"

"Um, not quite." I was in a whirlwind already from Dr. Jeffries' phone call. This took me to a bumbling, near-catatonic state.

She got up and picked up my phone again, answering it when it buzzed for the ninth or tenth time since I'd hung up with Dr. Jeffries. "Hello? This is Miss Samantha Woodward's assistant. How can I help you?" She paused and listened. I would have made a fuss about it, but I could barely think straight. "Oh? You're on the Atlanta Falcons management? Miss Woodward is in a meeting at the moment. Can she phone you tomorrow?" She looked over at me and nodded, grabbing a pen and notepad to take the person's name. "Excellent. Thank you. Goodbye."

Before she could say two words to me, the phone buzzed again. "What this means is you get to choose your next move, but I hope you'll give Evan another chance." she said to me. "You can thank your assistant with the cheerful voice later." She was too happy about this. Why was she not flabbergasted, or at least a little stunned? Kristy took a breath and pressed the call answer button to take the next call. And the next. And the next.                       
       
           



       

An hour later, she had fielded eight calls from NFL management staff, and six from major league baseball teams. She passed the phone to me. "Okay. My office hours are over, hun, unless you pay overtime."

I gave her a weak smile, still looking down at the phone screen. "Thanks for taking care of these calls for me, Kristy. You're a lifesaver. I'll call them back tomorrow."

"No biggie. You'd do the same for me. Please tell me you'll call Evan now … or at least text him. I will if you don't."

"You don't have his number, and it's not in this new phone."

"As if. Girl, you've forgotten who you're dealing with. Check the bottom of that notepad I just slaved over for you."

My eyes fell to the page, and then I saw it. "Evan phoned?"

"Of course. You think he would practically champion your career in that interview and then not phone? Call him. Or send him a text. Just do it now."

Should I call him? I didn't have the wherewithal to say the right things. Caving at Kristy's insistence, I sent a short message, firing it off quickly so I didn't lose my nerve.