Single Dad Boss: A Small Town Romance

by Kara Hart

  I walk through a glass door and hear the bell ring above me. The smell of old dust, wood, and perfume fills the store. “Howdy! What can I do for you?” An old man at the counter smiles at me. “Say, aren’t you that sports player who keeps getting into all that trouble?”

  “I am,” I laugh. “But I’m starting over. Today is day one.”

  He pats my shoulder and laughs a little. “That’s alright. We all get in a little trouble every once in a while,” he says. His hair is erratic and his glasses keep falling off. “You came in here looking for a ring didn’t you?”

  “How the hell did you know that?” I ask him, taken aback. It’s true. I came here to find a ring because I’m going to lay down my life and ask her to marry me. There ain’t nothing in the world that can stop me now. I feel, strangely, exhilarated.

  “Ha! I’ve been in this business for over 35 years. I know when a man is in love. And boy, you’re spiraling. Follow me,” he says, motioning for me to come with him to the backside of the store.

  We walk through a series of halls, until we reach a small room. “This is normally off limits to customers. But, I’ll make an exception. Your situation seems dire enough,” he whispers.

  He unlocks the door and we walk into a room full of boxes. “Let’s see here,” he mumbles to himself, digging through a set of drawers. “Aha!” Finally, he grabs a small black ring box.

  When he opens it, I nearly fall over. “We’ve had this for about a month. I didn’t have the heart to put it in the display case. It’s just too beautiful.” He smiles, staring wide-eyed with me at the diamonds.

  “It’s gorgeous,” I whisper. “Like Fiona.”

  “Any girl would be honored to be gifted such a ring,” he says. “But this one is obviously special. Is this Fiona woman worth it to you? Better yet, will you serve her as her husband well?”

  “Sir, I’ll gladly lay down my life for her if I have to. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. I can’t stop thinking about her. I’m thinking about quitting football for her, to be honest. I put my house on the market last night because I can’t stand to live in a big house alone anymore. I can’t stand the life I’ve made for myself,” I admit, probably telling too much too fast.

  The old man simply nods his head. “Yes, I understand,” he says. “I was in your position once. Young and in love, my wife rejected me over and over again, over the course of two full years. Back then, I was set to go back to the Army. Finally, I decided to drop everything for her. I realized that she was the most important thing in this world, not a few purple hearts!” He chuckles to himself and nods again. “Imagine if I had gone back there. I could have ended up killed, or killing someone else!”

  Am I dreaming? Is this man really in front of me? It’s like he’s an angel, sent to lead me in the right direction. He hands me the box. “Take it. It’s your last chance.”

  I buy it on the spot. Thirty grand. Either he’s an angel or he’s a very good con man. Either way, I don’t care. She deserves it. It’s utterly perfect. A gorgeous ring for a gorgeous woman.

  I walk out of the antique shop, feeling new and refreshed. There’s another place on my list that I have to check off. This is where I need to start being careful. I head to Landon’s house.

  With a hard knock on the door, I take a step back. The door creaks open and he’s standing in front of me with a broken nose and black eye. I probably don’t look much better. “Get off my property,” he says, shutting the door in my face.

  I knock again and wait. Nothing. I ring the doorbell and knock a third time. This time, he opens it violently. “I said, get the fuck off my property. I’m not your ‘brother’ anymore. So just leave, alright?” He doesn’t slam the door. Instead, he actually waits for me to speak.

  “Wait,” I tell him. “Just hear me out. I came to apologize.” The word “apologize” stings as it leaves my mouth. There’s nothing I hate more than apologizing for things I don’t think are my fault. Still, it’s what needs to be done this time. I have to bow in humility. Well, it’s either that, or I pummel the guy. I could just go that route…

  “Apologize? For what? It’s like you’ve been saying all along, right? I hit you first,” he says, waiting for me to say the wrong thing.

  “I messed up the dynamic between us. I should have told you what was happening. I shouldn’t have brought it onto the field,” I tell him. “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave. But know that I wanted to make things right before the big game.”

  “They probably won’t let you play. You know that?” he asks, smiling a little. I know his game. He’s trying to rile me up, but it won’t work this time. I’m over it all.

  “So be it. It was a dream of mine to play, but there’s more important things in life.” I sigh, shaking my head.

  “Fine. Come in.” He turns and walks to his living room. When he sits down, he reaches over to the small mini bar and pulls out two beers. He tosses me one and cracks open his. I do the same and take a sip.

  “You really believe all that good-natured crap you’ve been spewing?” he asks me. His nose looks bad, like I broke it in multiple places or something. How good-natured was my punch?

  “It’s not exactly about being good-natured. It’s about standing for what I believe to be true,” I tell him. “Besides, the only time it affected my game was when I got sick. Shit, I think our fighting affected us the most.”

  “I guess it did, huh?” He laughs and looks out the window for a second. “You know, I actually wanted you dead.”

  “Yeah, I figured. I probably had similar thoughts,” I say. “Anyway, Fiona dumped my ass, so you’ll be happy to know that she’s basically out of my life.”

  He shrugs and chugs the rest of his beer, crunching the can in his hand. “Fuck it,” he says. “I don’t care what you do. I was just jealous, man. I missed our hangouts. I missed those days when Misty would come over with some friends, and we’d get all loaded up and have fun. I guess we’re getting older, though. Can’t party forever.”

  “We can party until we’re 80 years old. Only, someday I’m going to have a wife. I assume you will too. We’ll have to party in different ways, I guess,” I tell him, standing up and finishing my beer. “Look man, she broke my heart. That’s the truth. But I’m aiming to get her back. The reason I came here is to say that I’m done fighting with you. I want to be cool again. Can we make up?”

  “Shit.” He sighs. “I hate this emotional bullshit. You know that.”

  “I do,” I laugh. “But it’s happening whether you like it or not, so take it or leave it.”

  After a few seconds of biting his tongue, he reaches out his hand. I grab it and shake it. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “Are we cool?”

  “We’re cool, man,” he says. “But, at the end of the day, I’m the sorry one. I was an asshole. I guess that’s why you shattered my nose, huh?”

  “Yeah, that wasn’t exactly planned. Sorry about that, brother.” I also bite my tongue.

  I walk toward the door and take a deep breath. “Go get her,” he tells me. “Make her yours.”

  “I’ve done what I can for now,” I say. “Right now we have to make sure we can play this game. You ready to sit down with the league? It’s going to be rough.”

  “Shit, man. I’m always ready to fight for my right to play,” he says. “Let’s do it.”

  I phone up coach Scott Stern, saying, “Coach, it’s Jackson and Landon. We’ve managed to put everything behind us. We want to talk.”

  86

  Fiona

  Without Jackson, my days are much different. There’s a lot of silence, work, and then… Jennifer. It’s not exactly the best situation and I start to miss my home in Los Angeles. All those parties, friends, the beach… Portland is definitely wearing on me.

  The next day, I don’t do any work. I turn on the Sports Network to see the newest headlines about Jackson, since he seems to dominate the airwaves because of his handful of fights this year. I don�
�t know why I keep flooding my mind with more images of him. I keep telling myself, “This is your job. You have to keep yourself updated on the players you work with.”

  But it’s not that simple anymore. I talked to Joseph last night and he heard me out. “Jackson is no longer your client,” he told me. “You have a week to leave your rental home and head back to LA, where you’ll resume working for your old clients.” All I could do was thank him.

  I didn’t know what all that would entail. I didn’t know I would still have leftover feelings for Jackson. So when Joseph gave me the ultimatum of leaving in a week, it left me feeling shell-shocked. Today, however, I’m just numb.

  On the television, he’s the talk of the sports world. A newscaster levels a serious gaze at the camera. “Is this how we want our sports stars to behave? I mean, really, folks…”

  But then, seemingly out of nowhere, the newscaster stops talking to share a phone call that was recorded earlier. It’s from Jackson and it’s an explanation about the fight at the gym. I hear the words that make me pause. “…I fell in love with one beautiful girl…” and I’m taken aback. Love? Did he really just use that word?

  I turn off the TV, walking out to grab the mail that was delivered earlier. I’m shocked. I don’t know how to feel. Of course, I felt similar about everything. But that fight was the last straw. I can’t keep dealing with his shit forever. He’s an adult. He should learn to channel that energy onto the field.

  When I open the mailbox, I see it. It’s a handwritten letter and I can tell just by looking at it that it’s from Jackson. I rip it open, falling to the grassy lawn of my front yard. I examine the contents and feel my body grow tense. He’s never gone out of his way to do something like this before. I half-expected him to go back to his old ways.

  When I read the letter, I have to force myself to read it a second time. And a third time. And a fourth…

  It’s heartfelt and straight to the point. It’s probably the sincerest thing Jackson has ever written and it takes me back to the days we first reconnected. Those nights we spent together, that’s what I miss the most. The honesty. The sincerity.

  “I don’t know,” I say aloud. All of the sudden, the sprinklers come on and I’m forced to run back inside.

  Soaking wet, confused, and ready for some real advice, I grab my phone. There are three missed calls from Jackson. “God,” I whisper, pacing around my kitchen. “What am I going to do?”

  I get the call hours later. It’s Landon, which manages to confuse me more than anything. Regardless, I answer. I need to know what’s going on.

  “You there?” he asks me, right when I answer the call.

  “Um, yeah. What’s going on? Don’t you hate me?” I ask him, holding my breath.

  “I never hated you, Fiona,” he sighs. “I just misunderstood some things.”

  “Right,” I mutter. “Okay, so why are you calling me? I don’t think we’ve talked before. What’s going on, Landon?”

  “Did you turn on your TV this morning?” he asks me.

  “I saw the phone call. I heard what he said,” I tell him. “So what?”

  “I’m with Jackson right now. We’re on our way to meet with Coach Stern and some of the suits upstairs, if you catch my drift. I just thought you should know. We’ve put things behind us,” he says. “He figured you wouldn’t answer the phone if he called you, but he’s trying to make things right.”

  I’m honestly flabbergasted by the whole thing. Jackson, taking control of his life in this way? It’s a bit different. Normally, he overreacts, sending everything around him spiraling. I’m not sure how to react to this news. Even if it is true, how can I be sure?

  “There’s no way that this is true.” I find myself actually laughing at the whole thing. “Is this part of your master plan? Is this your way to fuck over Jackson?”

  “I’m telling you, it’s all the truth. He’s trying his hardest,” he says.

  “Let me talk to him,” I say. “Now.”

  “We’re here. I’m sorry, I have to go,” he says. He hangs up the phone and I’m left hanging by a thread.

  I have a week until I have to go back to LA. I thought everything was going to resume as normal. I didn’t think everything would get this topsy-turvy. Me, give Jackson a second chance? It sure as hell wasn’t in the plan.

  87

  Jackson

  “We want to play in the Super Bowl, plain and simple,” I tell the coach and the five other board members dressed in nice Armani suits. It’s hard for me to give these guys the time of day. The coach? Well, he’s worked his whole life to be here. He deserves it. The other people, however, haven’t done shit. They don’t know what it’s like out on the field. They don’t understand the pressures we face as professional football players.

  “You fought each other,” one of the men says. “Not only that, all of the press that covers you two has been negative from the start. Look, we know you want to play in the game. I’m just not sure if it’s in the cards for you two. We can’t keep making exceptions every game.”

  “So we fought a few times? That happens every year with other players,” I begin to make my case. “It just so happens that it happened to the two best players in the league. Are you really willing to mess with the ratings?”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” another says. “People will watch the Super Bowl, whether you sit on the sidelines or not. I think we can afford to leave you two out this time.”

  “Then, I’m done,” I manage to say after some time.

  “Excuse me?” Scott says to me. “What do you mean, done?”

  “I mean, I’m done. I quit the game. I don’t need it anymore if you don’t need me,” I say.

  “I quit too,” Landon says. “Fuck it. Might as well go down with the ship, right?”

  “You can’t quit,” the leading board member says, slamming his glass of water down so hard that it shakes the wooden table in front of us.

  “And why the fuck not?” I ask him, feeling the adrenaline start to flow throughout my body. All I want is to leave this room, to drive to Fiona’s place, and bend on one knee. I want to take her by the waist and hold her close. I want to kiss her passionately, until we fall onto her bed. I don’t know if any of this will happen, but I have hope.

  “I’ll remind everyone in this room that you two are bound by a strict contract that says you must stay in the league for three years. Then, and only then, will you be able to renegotiate,” he says, table still shaking. “You both agreed upon this, under law.”

  “Then, sue me,” Landon says. “Take me to fucking court and take all my money. I don’t care anymore. I came to play, not deal with board members before the biggest game of my life.”

  “I’m selling the mansion. You can take the money. Hell, take it all,” I say, backing Landon up. “It’s not worth anything to me anymore.”

  Everyone looks to coach Stern, who is staring at the carpet and shaking his head. “When did the game get so complicated?” he asks us. “Back in the day, everything was so much easier. There wasn’t all this crap you have to deal with nowadays. All the sponsorships, team rivalries, all this adrenaline that gets thrown onto the field… it’s not fair to the players. Members of the board, I ask you to reconsider and let these boys play. God knows we need them.”

  Both of us walk up beside the coach and stand with him. The board members turn aside to whisper with each other. The one seemingly in charge looks at me. “Alright.” He clears his throat and takes another sip of water. “I think I’ve heard enough for today. You can play the damn game, but if you manage to get yourselves into trouble one more time, we’re done here. Your contract will be over with and you’ll never set foot onto that field ever again. Got it? Good. Now get out of this office.”

  I feel my heart rise into the back of my throat. “Wait, what? Can you repeat that? We can play?” I can’t tell if this is all in my mind or not. We got what we came for. I can’t believe it.

  “We can
play,” Landon says, smiling wide. We walk out with the coach and stand against the sunlight.

  “Boys, you’re very lucky. I hope you know that,” he says. He gives a slight chuckle and rubs his fingers against his mustache. “I mean, the gall you two had. Jesus, I can’t believe it.”

  I laugh right alongside of him. “I can’t believe it either. To be honest, I thought they were going to throw us out and take us to court.”

  It’s a miracle any of this worked out. Landon turns to me after some time. “Go get her, man. Get the girl you love.” All I can do is nod. I turn and hail a cab, rushing to her house, only to find her outside. And she’s crying…

  88

  Fiona

  I can’t shake this. I can’t keep denying Jackson, even if he has messed up. Maybe he’s really trying to start a new life. Maybe he really does love me like he says he does. And maybe I love him.

  When I walk outside to grab a coffee, I break down. I just start bawling. The past few days have taken their toll on me and now I just want answers. Only, there’s no answers to be had. I just need to get through the day, dammit.

  And then that little yellow cab comes speeding up to the driveway and stops. I see him, front and center. Through the window, I see him and he’s smiling. He’s got a bouquet of flowers and as he steps outside, he walks with a confidence that’s free and new.

  I immediately stop crying and scramble to make myself look more presentable. My hair is a mess, I’m wearing my pajamas, and I haven’t even put on makeup. I’m a total wreck.

  And what does he say? “Hello beautiful.” That’s what he says. Of course, I can’t hold it in. More tears come down and I start laughing at the same time. He probably thinks I’m an insane person.