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Covering Kendall(83)



Maybe she should back away from her office and call for help. The Miners’ private security force was in the office twenty-four hours a day now. Whoever was in her office had the electronic card that got them past the locks and a photo ID badge.

Maybe it was the cleaning crew. Maybe it was someone who’d been in there last evening. Maybe it was one of the security guys. She crept over to the partially open door and peeked through it.

Sydney sat at her desk, tapping away at her laptop.

Kendall shoved her office door open. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at school, you goofball!”

Sydney grinned at her. She picked up a tall iced latte and shook the cup a little. “Got you some coffee, boss. And a pastry.”

Kendall dropped into one of the chairs in front of her desk and took the proffered Starbucks bag from Sydney. “Are you sure?” Sydney’s workload was going to double, and Kendall didn’t want her to drop out of school from sheer frustration. “Maybe I should get you an assistant of your own.”

“I can handle it,” Sydney said. “It’s just like eating an elephant.”

“One bite at a time,” Kendall said. She raised her iced latte cup in a silent toast.

“Oh, hell, yeah. Let’s get some shit done.”



DREW WOKE UP after a restless night and swung his feet over the side of the bed. Seconds later, the phone his mom must have brought in and put on his nightstand rang.

His agent, Lance, sounded too damn cheerful for six AM Seattle time.

“How are you doing today?”

“Everything hurts. You do know it’s six o’clock here, right?”

“Sorry, guy. I wanted to let you know that the Sharks’ putting you on IR has hit the media, and the team is paying out the guaranteed portion of your contract.”

“Okay. Coach called me yesterday.”

“Why didn’t you let me know?”

“I was a little busy. Hey, Lance, now that I have you on the phone, I have a question or two.”

“What’s up?” Lance said.

“One: I know I have to show up for the home games for the rest of the season. Am I required to go to away games?”

“No. You’re expected to rehab.”

“Does it matter where I rehab?”

“I’m guessing the Sharks might like it if you stayed in the Seattle area—”

“I’d like to see if I can work with a rehab center in California. I’ll fly in for the games.”

“Rehab in another team’s facility? Please don’t tell me you’re considering doing this at the Miners.”

“No, but there’s at least two other teams in the area. What are your thoughts?”

“I’m guessing this means that you’re interested in spending time with Kendall Tracy.”

Drew pulled in a breath. “She can’t move. It’ll give us a chance to decide if it’s worth working out the logistics to continue. I also need to face facts. I may not play again.”

He was proud of himself: At least he could get the words out without bawling like a baby. He didn’t know who he was without football, and it might be a while before he discovered what he’d like to do. Fortunately, between his contracts and endorsements, he’d saved enough to take his time and figure out what the future might hold for him professionally.

“Come on, McCoy. You’re going to play again. Do you want me to approach the Sharks with your rehab plans?”

“I can do it. I’ll bring you in if I need backup.”

“Okay, then. Is there anything else I can do right now?”

“Nope,” Drew said. “Thanks for listening.” After a few more pleasantries, his agent hung up.

Drew had tossed and turned most of the night last night, thinking and weighing his options. Even the pain pills didn’t knock him out. The best plan of attack was to rehab and train like he was intent on going back to the Sharks, while preparing for the fact he may not. He knew he wanted Kendall to be included in every plan he made. He’d crawl on hands and knees to California with a duffle bag of clothing between his teeth if she wanted him to, but he hoped some sincere groveling might work as well.

Three o’clock in the morning was a great time to think in an almost-silent house and straighten out his priorities. While his parents slept on in the room next door, he calculated and thought. He knew the only way he might get at least one of the things he wanted—creating a happy family—was accepting the fact that family might be living an hour outside of San Francisco, instead of in a 5800-square foot house on Seattle’s Eastside. He’d bought a family house, but it was never going to be a home as long as Kendall didn’t live here with him.