Linebacker’s Second Chance(10)

In general, male athletes who whore around don’t bother me.

Mack bothers me.

The fact that he hasn’t spoken to me in six years bothers me.

The fact that the ring he gave me is still sitting in my top dresser drawer bothers me.

It cost him $900, and he emptied his bank account to buy it.

Every word he’d said that night had sounded so sincere. I was twenty-two, and I said yes, against every bit of better judgment I had.

I didn’t care if he was as poor as dirt and had nothing. I didn’t care if his daddy owed my father money, or that we were all entrenched in an endless feud in Tick Bite, North Carolina. The smallest of small towns. Who would have thought we’d both come so far?

It was his brother that told me the engagement was off. Mack didn’t even have the decency to do it himself. He sent his damn brother to my house after I made it back from California. He sent his horrible brother to break my heart.

Maybe I should have sent the ring back.

But he never called. He never came by. He didn’t even stop to ask if I was okay before he split and went to the pros.

Rich breaks me out of my reverie. “Well Ren, looks like you’re getting on Macklin Pride’s personal plane tomorrow. And I’ll see if someone can get that check to you as soon as you arrive in Charlotte.”

“They’ll get me my check, or I’m back on the first plane back to San Francisco the day after that. And Mack won’t be on that plane tomorrow, or I’m ditching him as a client.” I tap my nails against Rich’s expensive desk. There’s not much that could get me to go to North Carolina in July—$500,000 with a potential $100k bonus is one thing that will.

I’ll just make sure that Mack knows I didn’t come for him.

I came for the cash and what it can do to change my family’s life, once and for all, to get us out of the convoluted mess that is Tick Bite, North Carolina.

My daddy’s voice echoes in my head.

Anything you take on is a challenge, baby girl. The more challenging it is, the better you can do.

Rich is on the phone with Wingate Richards as soon as I walk out of his office, and by the time I’m getting ready to leave for the day, I’ve already got six ideas to turn my ex-fiancé’s career around, get him the hell out of trouble, and do it all in the span of three months. Hell, I might even drag his sorry ass to the Super Bowl.

This isn’t a travesty, I think as I walk out and catch my Uber, bound for Sausalito. It’s a challenge. And my daddy was always right. And what’s more, Rich is probably right too.

I’m the best woman for this job, and Macklin’s going to do everything I say.

I wonder for a second as the car gets onto the Bay Bridge if Mack expects to see me at all, or if he even knows I’m coming.

Doesn’t matter. There’s not a damn thing between us anymore.

And I’ll do anything to prove it.





CHAPTER FIVE





“Now, Wingate, I don’t need a damn bit of rebranding.” I say, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in the leather recliner sofa my decorator absolutely insisted I didn’t get. Well, she had another thing coming. I’m a linebacker, not a New York lawyer who wants a goddamn couch with fancy fabric you can’t spill anything on. I wanted a leather sectional, with custom-made La-Z-Boy recliners on either side and in the middle too. Makes it easier for me to watch football during the season, and it makes it a damn sight easier to bed a woman when I don’t want to carry her over my shoulder to the California king in the bedroom.

That’s the thing with women who come around wanting to get some action with a linebacker. They expect me to carry them everywhere like a caveman. Just because I’m a huge individual doesn’t mean that I need to be tossing women over my shoulders every second of the day. The sofa makes for a perfect sexual alternative. As a bonus, I can look out at the Charlotte skyline when I’ve got a nice looking lady friend bouncing on my lap.

That’s what I call interior decorating.

“You do need rebranding.” My cousin Wingate Richards replies as he walks back and forth, blocking my view of the TV—and I’ve got college basketball on. Just because I’m a football player doesn’t mean I don’t need to keep up on other sports. Just like he has every day since we were kids, he’s getting on my nerves worrying about things that he doesn’t have any power to change. That’s what makes him a damn good personal manager, but it's also what makes him annoying as shit when it comes to being a cousin and my best bud.

“Get out of the damn way, Wingate.” I turn the volume up to drown out his droning. Carolina would be stupid as shit to get rid of me—I’m their ticket to the Super Bowl if ever there was one. Well, this season I am. Maybe I wasn't last season. Oh well. I've all but put that out of my head, and I'm sure everyone else has too.