Truth was, Mac thought as he observed Gaige Benson, close to fifty, the man could probably still outperform a hefty percentage of the quarterbacks coming out of college today. The man with his flat stomach and rippling muscles was a freak of nature.
Mac and Gaige went way back. Though they played for rival teams, the future hall of famer hadn’t hesitated to take a green as grass rookie under his wing. Well into the second decade, their friendship had survived Gaige’s retirement, the injury that forced Mac out of the league, and the occasional difference of opinion.
However, neither man could have anticipated the turn of events that found Mac living in Gaige’s guest house and about to start his tenure as head coach of his old buddy’s former team.
Mac’s mouth curved into an irony-laced smile. One of the things he loved most about life was the unpredictability.
“We both know I would have taken the job if I had to work under Ronald McDonald. Of course, the clown knows his business,” Mac told Gaige with a snort. Under his breath, he added, “Can’t say the same for Darcy Stratham.”
“Careful,” Gaige warned. “Your streak of chauvinism is showing.”
“Untrue,” Mac protested. “If I thought the woman was qualified to run an NFL franchise, I’d cheer her on—wholeheartedly.”
“What makes you think Darcy isn’t the right person for the job?” Gaige raised an eyebrow. “She has an uncanny football brain.”
“Maybe.” Mac wasn’t convinced. “But do you deny the biggest reason she got the general manager’s job is that she’s friends with the owner?”
“Ah.” Gaige sighed. “Now I see the problem. You suspect nepotism?”
“With a capital N,” Mac snorted.
“Interesting.” Gaige crossed his arms, his green eyes locking with Mac’s darker gaze. “May I ask you a question?”
Sensing a trap but not sure how to sidestep the problem, Mac gave a cautious nod.
“When you were forced to retire and decided to try your hand at coaching, who gave you your chance? A stranger?”
Well, shit. Mac sighed. He’d set himself up and Gaige, the cagey jerk, pounced. Yes, his first coaching job came via an old acquaintance who wanted to do him a favor. However, his situation was different, damn it.
“You can’t compare me to Darcy Stratham. I played the game since I was a kid.”
“Over half of the current NFL general managers never stepped foot on the field—not competitively,” Gaige said.
“How would you know the number?” Mac demanded. When the answer hit him, he scoffed. “Quarterbacks. Always need to be the smartest person in the room.”
“Need has nothing to do with it,” Gaige explained with an arrogant grin. “By nature, we’re smarter than anyone else in the game.”
“Arrogant prick,” Mac said with a snort.
A tall man with thick light brown hair laughed as he took a beer from the refrigerator.
“Gaige is right,” Levi Reynolds said. Removing the cap from the bottle, he took a swig. “We’re a superior breed. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t started a game since college. Once a QB, always a QB.”
Mac didn’t smile. Not because he wasn’t amused by Levi’s self-deprecating attitude. He appreciated anyone who could laugh at himself. However, he was now the head coach, an authority figure, not simply a friend. Starting tomorrow, he had to take a step back and forget their past. To win the team’s trust and confidence, he had to treat everyone the same—no show of favoritism.
But for one last night, Mac could let himself be one of the boys. Part of an exclusive fraternity of men who played the game of football at the highest level possible. And damn it, his membership in the club gave him the right to vent his frustration when he felt the need.
“Be honest,” Mac said. “How many women know the ins and outs of football the way a man does? Plus have the business acumen and all-around savvy to run an NFL team?”
“Lord, son. You’re bound and determined to dig yourself the deepest hole possible.”
“Answer my question,” Mac taunted.
“How many?” Gaige thought for a second. “From personal knowledge, two. Riley Preston and Darcy Stratham.”
Frustrated, Mac gritted his teeth. He should have known Gaige would side with the team’s owner. From what he understood, Riley Preston practically grew up in the Knights’ locker room after her father purchased the franchise. Plus, she and Gaige were tight. Brother and sister, though they didn’t share a drop of DNA.
“Riley is a terrific businesswoman,” Mac conceded. “But would you trust her to step in and run the team, day to day, crisis to crisis?”
“Yes.”
Gaige said the word first, with firm conviction—as expected. To Mac’s surprise, Levi did the same. A third man joined the affirmation chorus.
“You, too?” Mac asked.
“Yup.” Dylan Montgomery, veteran player and starting tight end for the Knights, shot Mac a grin.
Rubbing a hand over his face, Mac took a deep breath. He’d landed in The Twilight Zone, not Seattle. Football was a male bastion, had been since the first time a man put his hands between his teammate’s legs and hollered hike.
“Is every person associated with the Seattle Knights a card-carrying feminist?” Max queried.
“I wouldn’t call myself a feminist,” Dylan said. “Just someone with an open mind to change. The world’s been run by men and, brother, we’ve fucked things up. I don’t mind stepping aside and giving women a chance at the helm. They couldn’t do worse.”
“Let women have the world,” Mac groused. “As long as they leave football alone.”
“Thick-headed jerk.” Gaige punched Mac in the arm with more force than necessary. “You should thank Darcy after the favor she’s done for you.”
“Favor?” Certain a bruise had already formed, Mac rubbed his arm. “The woman called me an asshole.”
“She wasn’t wrong,” Levi said before he remembered his place in the Knights’ pecking order fell far below Mac’s. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, coach.”
Coach. Mac allowed himself a moment to savor the sound of the word before he jumped back into the argument.
“I’ve barely talked to the woman. What kind of favor could Darcy Stratham and her fancy college degree possibly have done for me?”
“You graduated from Stanford,” Dylan reminded Mac. “Can’t get any fancier.”
“Not the point,” Mac said. “Name one thing that woman has done for me?”
“She’s taken most of the heat off your sorry ass.” Gaige’s fingers tightened on his bottle of beer. “With your reputation as a player and the fact you’ve never been a head coach, the press would have lambasted Riley for hiring you. And you would have felt the blowback. Devil.”
Mac hated the nickname. Mostly because he’d earned it. He wasn’t proud of the things he’d done in his younger, hotheaded days. But he’d worked hard to put the past firmly behind him. Not everyone was convinced the change was real.
“I’ve received plenty of bad press since Riley hired me.”
“Not as much as Darcy. Not by a longshot. When I think of what she’s put up with.” Gaige slammed a fist onto the counter. “She’s a woman. The first to hold the position of an NFL general manager. I can’t even imagine the crap she has to dodge—crap, thanks to her, you don’t have to deal with.”
Mac knew he was a selfish bastard—he’d needed to be to survive a less than stellar childhood. Yet, Gaige’s words gave him an unfamiliar and unwelcome twinge of conscience. A twinge he firmly ignored.
“Bad press is part of the job,” Mac said. “If Darcy Stratham can’t take a little heat, maybe she should leave the front office and go back into the kitchen.”
For a second, Mac thought Gaige might hit him. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d felt a man’s fist to his face, probably wouldn’t be the last. He braced himself, ready to take the blow, a blow that didn’t co
me.
Gaige took several deep breaths, relaxing his coiled muscles one by one.
“Riley asked what I thought before she hired you,” he said as he unclenched his fingers. “I told her you were ready to be a head coach. Don’t make me regret my recommendation. Don’t prove me wrong.”
Few people’s opinions mattered to Mac. Life was easier if he didn’t care what anyone thought. He believed in himself and that was all he needed. Gaige was different. He took pride in the fact that he’d earned the legendary quarterback’s respect. However, he couldn’t be someone he wasn’t and if that meant he lost a friend or lost his coveted job, so be it. He would do things his way or not at all.
“I appreciated what you’ve done for me, Gaige,” Mac said, meaning every word. “But don’t try and guilt me into changing what I believe.”
“Everyone changes, Mac.” Gaige gave him a half-smile. “Without evolution, we die. Ask the dinosaurs. Oh, wait. You can’t. They’re all dead.”
Despite himself, Mac laughed. He appreciated the analogy, though he wouldn’t call himself a dinosaur. He was a man who loved the game of football. A man who loved to win. And no one—especially an upstart like Darcy Stratham—would stand in his way as he led the Knights to a championship.
“I’ll work with the woman. What choice do I have?”
“None, if you want to keep your job,” Riley Preston said as she entered the room. “Sorry to barge in unannounced. The front door was ajar.”
“Boss.” Mac nodded toward the Knights’ owner.
“We wanted to stop in and say hello.” Sean McBride stood beside his wife, her hand in his. “Did we interrupt an argument?”
“More of a lively discussion,” Gaige said.
“We heard your discussion well before we reached the house, though the words were muffled.” Riley looked between Mac and Gaige. “Anything I should know about?”
“Just two old friends getting reacquainted,” Gaige explained.
“Sounded more like enemies,” Riley said, making it clear she didn’t buy the excuse. “By comparison, the only noise coming from the guest house next door is the sound of Darcy and her friend Piper laughing and having a good time. I guess men and women express their affection in different ways.”
Another reason he didn’t look forward to dealing with Darcy Stratham, Mac thought. Then, his brain registered the full meaning of Riley’s words.
“Guesthouse next door?” he asked with a feeling of dread. “Do you mean…?
“Darcy is your neighbor. Small world.” Riley chuckled. “Funny, she had the same expression when she found out about you.”
Mac closed his eyes, cursing under his breath. If he’d doubted the truth before, he didn’t now. Karma was a woman and she freaking hated his guts. Payback for all the times he’d played around then walked away without a backward glance? Maybe. Whatever the reason, he felt Darcy Stratham’s next-door proximity was a harsh and unjust punishment.
“Great,” Gaige said with an amused glint in his eyes. “Maybe you can carpool.”
The only thing greater than Mac’s need to knock the smug smile off Gaige’s face was his desire to keep his job. However, if looks could kill, the blond dickwad would fall to the ground in a heap of burnt toast.
“I doubt our schedules are the same,” Mac said through gritted teeth. “A head coach’s hours aren’t nine to five.”
“If you think a general manager doesn’t burn the midnight oil, you have a lot to learn.” Riley cocked her head to one side. “Then again, I knew you were a work in progress. I’ll be interested to see how far you progress over the next few months.”
“What about your protégé?” Mac’s tone was harsher than he intended, but he didn’t stop. “Does Darcy Stratham get an oversized learning curve, or will you keep as close an eye on her as on me?”
“Watch the attitude,” Sean said.
When her husband took a step toward Mac, Riley’s grip on his hand tightened.
“Mac’s question is fair. Rude, obnoxious, annoying,” Riley ticked off the adjectives on her fingers. “Overbearing, arrogant. However, because I appreciate your passion for my team, I’ll answer—just this once.”
Less than thrilled with Riley’s assessment of him, Mac kept his expression neutral and waited.
“Darcy spent the last twenty years acquiring the tools she needs to be an effective general manager. What elevates her to another level is her bone-deep passion for football.” A slow smile formed on Riley’s lips. “Yes, we’re friends.”
When Mac snorted, Riley’s gaze narrowed.
“If you think I would hire anyone based solely on affection, you’re wrong.” She waited for a beat before continuing. “I thought you and Darcy would balance each other out. Yin and yang. Perhaps I did make a mistake. With you.”
“You didn’t,” Mac assured her.
“We’ll see. Goodnight, gentlemen.” Riley turned to leave. Pausing, she looked Mac in the eye. “Some time, after you’ve pulled your head out of your backside, take a minute to ask Darcy how she learned the game. It’s quite a story. Though she might not tell you.”
Intrigued despite himself, Mac asked, “Why not?”
“Darcy will bend over backward to work with you, Mac. She’ll put everything she has into her job. Blood, sweat, tears. Though to be honest, I’ve never seen her cry.”
Chastised but still unconvinced, Mac opened his mouth to reply. Riley cut him off before he could figure out what to say.
“Darcy’s a private person. Unless you’re lucky enough to have her for a friend, you’ll never glimpse what’s under the hard, protective shell she’s erected around herself.” Riley sighed. “Maybe you don’t care, but you should. She’s an amazing woman.”
Mac didn’t argue. What would be the point? Riley had her mind made up and nothing he could say would make a difference. Looking out the window as the rain continued to fall, he shook his head. He could barely imagine himself working with Darcy Stratham. On a personal level, they had nothing in common. He was the night to her day.
Under different circumstances, Mac could easily picture a beautiful woman like Darcy in his bed. Having her for a lover was a stretch. But friends? The idea was beyond impossible.
CHAPTER FIVE
▲ ▼ ▲ ▼ ▲
DARCY PAUSED OUTSIDE her office door. Heart racing, she traced the gold lettering with the tip of her finger.
DARCY STRATHAM
GENERAL MANAGER
One day she might walk past the door without a feeling of giddy lightheadedness. Maybe. In thirty or forty years. Until then, Darcy let a gush of joy wash over her, certain nothing would ever equal the feeling.
“Your morning schedule is on your desk. Nine o’clock conference with Joshua McClain—I confirmed the appointment with Coach McClain’s assistant just before you arrived.”
Terra Cray delivered the information with a kind of brisk, but cheerful enthusiasm.
“McClain,” Darcy muttered. “Ugh.”
“Excuse me?” Terra asked, looking up from her notes.
“Nothing.” Darcy forced herself to smile even though the thought of spending time with Joshua McClain made her lips want to instinctively curl into a sneer. “Go on.”
“Your staff will be in conference room A at ten o’clock. You wanted to meet and map out this week’s agenda.”
“Right.” Darcy nodded. “How long have we worked together?”
“As of next week, three years,” Terra answered without hesitation.
Darcy smiled at the memory of when they first met. She’d recently been promoted to assistant to the Tennessee Titan’s general manager and needed an assistant of her own. She thanked the fates every day that she found Terra.
The fifty-three-year-old mother of two did not follow football. Luckily, fangirl obsession wasn’t part of the job description. Terra was Darcy’s last line of defense. Quick on her feet, tactful, but never a pushover. Efficie
nt, resourceful.
Most of all, she needed her right-hand person to be loyal. Complete loyalty. No leaks, no gossiping, no telling tales out of school What happened in the office, stayed in the office.
“I’m so glad you agreed to move to Seattle. The thought of finding another you terrified me. How are you and Ronny and the boys settling in?”
“First? You would never find another me,” Terra said with a flip of her dark, shoulder-length hair. “I’m irreplaceable.”
“True.” Darcy laughed.
“Second, the house you found us is gorgeous. Five bedrooms. More bathrooms than we can use. And a backyard big enough for my fifteen-year-old twin heathens to run around in. Heaven.” Shaking her head, Terra placed her hands on her slim hips. “I can’t believe our rent is paid for the first year. Who does that?”
“Riley Preston,” Darcy said. “Our boss is one of a kind.”
“Add on a retirement plan, the gold standard of dental and medical coverage.” Terra couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. “Moving was a no brainer. Plus, you’re the best boss ever.”
“Thanks for adding me to the list.” Darcy chuckled, then sobered. “Did you think we’d get here?”
Terra cocked her head to the side and smiled.
“What?” Darcy inquired, wondering about the mysterious glint in Terra’s dark eyes.
“Before I ever began to work for you, I asked what your goals were; if you were content to play second fiddle or if you wanted more. Remember what you told me?”
“I’ve wanted more all my life.” Darcy rolled her eyes at the memory. “Those are the kind of thoughts a person should keep to herself. I sounded like an arrogant cliché.”
“You sounded like a confident woman,” Terra corrected. “I know where you came from, how hard you’ve worked. And though you’ve told me some things, I imagine you kept the most harrowing experiences to yourself.”
The Devil Wears Blue Jeans (One Pass Away: A New Season Book 1) Page 5
