Chad had never been talked to like that. He’d been an exemplary player his whole career. “Yes, sir. Won’t happen again.” He’d better not run into Rick alone anytime soon. He’d let him have it.
Coach continued, “As far as the leak goes, any publicity can be good publicity when spun right. Rick was man enough to confess his daughter had made a mistake by selling that clip to the press because she needed the money. So here’s what we’re going to do. The PR department is going to send out a statement that confirms the video and the texts were generated from a computer in your home and that you take full responsibility for their lack of security. Then you’ll apologize for any embarrassment it caused the team. Are we clear on that?”
He’d apologize? That was just a load of BS. Rick should lose his job over it. A guy could only take so much.
But he needed to win his spot back.
His mind scrambled for a solution. “I’d be glad to do whatever it takes, Coach, but there might be just one problem down the road, if we go with that plan. The police know Rick’s daughter also helped my ex-wife remove my son from my custody without my knowledge. I worry the team would look bad, if the police subpoena my computer and the records become public knowledge. But I’m willing to do whatever you think best.”
Rick’s face whipped Chad’s direction. “What do you mean you called the police on Heather? She was only following the child’s mother’s orders.”
“And was paid in jewelry from my ex to help kidnap him. You know what your role was in this too, Rick. If I were you, I’d tell the coach the whole story before it comes out and causes the team some major embarrassment. We all need to put the team first”—he turned toward his boss—“right, Coach?”
“Yes. Thanks, Jenks.” He glanced Rick’s way and then back at Chad. “Good to have you back, but after hearing this, maybe it’d be best if the media didn’t see you at the game today. Lay low from the press. I’m sure Rick will fill me in on the rest. See you next week.”
“Yes, sir. Glad to be back.” Chad turned and walked out the door. He’d given Rick just enough rope to hang himself. The ball was back in his court now.
Chad couldn’t get to his beach house fast enough to soak his aching knee and watch the game on TV. Jo had been right about that too. The rest of his playing days were probably going to be filled with excruciating pain. But he’d gotten what he’d wanted. Another chance at the ring.
15
AN ULTIMATUM TODAY MIGHT KEEP YOUR BOYFRIEND AWAY.
Chad waited until the cab driver pulled away, then
picked up his day pack and headed for the gate. He tapped in his code and waited as the large metal doors parted. After he passed through, he waited again until the doors closed completely behind him. His coach’s orders were to lay low, so that was what he’d do. Couldn’t have nosy paparazzi sneak in behind him. They knew where he lived.
He swung one strap of his leather backpack over his shoulder and started toward his home perched on a cliff, overlooking the ocean. The gardeners had been doing their job, the vegetation, much of it newer low-water usage because of the drought, looked tidy and neat. He approached the six-car garage and punched in the code to roll up one of the bays. Then he hurried to the alarm pad on the wall and typed in his security code.
The housekeeper said she’d left some food in the fridge, so Chad headed there first. His stomach was still upset, but maybe he’d make himself a sandwich or something to celebrate being back on the roster again. He wanted to text Jo, to tell her all their hard work the past few weeks had paid off, and to thank her for her help, but reconsidered. She’d laid down the law. Her or football. It wasn’t fair. But it was what it was.
Tugging on the large commercial fridge’s handle, Chad found some covered casserole dishes, turkey and avocado wraps, and a bowl of cut-up fruit inside the almost empty fridge. He grabbed a wrap and the container of fruit and sat down at the kitchen island to eat. The ten thousand-square-foot house suddenly felt like twenty thousand, cavernous and quiet without Ryan running around. He’d kind of gotten used to the smaller condo in Denver that had begun to feel more like home.
After he finished off his lunch, he went downstairs to the pool and switched on the game. Then he stripped down and climbed in the jet tub to help soothe his knee. Sitting in the jets reminded him of that first time Jo had showed up for rehab, when he’d been soaking too, and he smiled. No other PT would tap him on the head with her sneaker and tell him to get out because she wasn’t being paid to watch him lounge. Unfortunately, after his earlier workout, his knee now pained him just about as much as it did then. That workout wasn’t nearly as intense as a real game would be. Could be a long few years ahead.
He needed to quit feeling sorry for himself and watch the game. There was no rush to get back home to Denver anymore since Ryan wasn’t back yet, so maybe he’d change the plane reservations and spend the night. He could watch the sunset over the ocean later. He missed that. Too bad Jo wasn’t going to watch it with him. She would’ve liked that.
Shaking off his gloom, he turned his attention back to the game. His team needed to keep their winning streak going so they could get to the playoffs. He wanted to text his mom with the good news about being back on the roster, but then she’d ask about Jo, and he wasn’t ready to go there yet. He’d just revel in his success by himself. He didn’t need anyone else to validate his accomplishments. That’d be stupid.
But he really missed Jo. And Ryan.
Maybe he’d check in with is lawyer and see if there’d been any progress getting his son back.
Jo, gently poaching eggs in her parents’ kitchen, stiffened when heavy footsteps crossed the hardwood floor behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “Hey, Dad. Your plane got in pretty late last night, huh?”
She’d run this first meeting with her father through her head all morning but hadn’t figured out quite how to act with him. Angry, sad, disappointed? She hadn’t decided, so she’d have to wing it.
“Yeah, about eleven.” He pulled out a chair, sat at the table in the nook, and powered up his tablet to read the news. “Mom said you went to bed early last night. Everything okay?”
Was everything okay? No, it wasn’t okay. She’d just found out things about him she hated knowing.
She turned to face him. “I’m still kind of processing what Mom told me last night.” And where was her mom? And Shelby? It was after ten. She’d counted on them being here too. To make things less awkward. She and her father had never been chatty with each other.
Dad laid down his tablet and met her gaze. “Mom said I owe you an apology about the loan thing. And for what happened with Juliette all those years ago. And that I need to try harder to stop comparing you and Juliette. So I’m sorry, Joann.”
She’d never heard her father apologize for anything. Clearly, her mom instructed him to do it, but she’d be graceful about it. “Thank you.” The next part of what she’d planned to say wasn’t going to be easy. He might say no, but she’d vowed to try. “I was wondering if you’d like to come to the café this afternoon. While we’re closed, so I can show you what really goes on behind the scenes. And I’d really like you to see the plans for the expansion. I think you’ll be impressed with the design Chad came up with. I am.”
She held her breath as she waited for his response. He’d never shown any interest in her café.
“I need some coffee. Your mother and I stayed up late talking last night.” He stood and crossed the kitchen to pour himself a cup from the pot she’d just made for him. After he took a sip, he turned and leaned against the counter. “I’m trying very hard to see your little restaurant venture from your perspective. But I worry, because so many restaurants fail. Then where will you be? A PT can always find a job to support themselves.”
He hadn’t answered her question, but he’d opened a door. “You’re right, many restaurants do fail. But the ones who understand their market and their customer and who tailor their menu to those
needs, do quite well. It’s why I chose to serve just the downtown breakfast and lunch crowd. I get to do what I love most. Bake. It never feels like a job for me. It also leaves me some time to have a life. It’s a win-win for a person like me, Dad.”
He rubbed his forehead as he stared into his coffee cup. “I suppose I should give you the chance to prove that. So yes. I’d like to meet you this afternoon.”
Jo crossed the kitchen and wrapped her dad up in a hug, startling him. “I promise I won’t disappoint you.”
He patted her back awkwardly. “I’ve never been disappointed in you, Joann. I’ve just questioned some of your choices. Maybe I was wrong to do that. I look forward to seeing your plans.”
“Thank you.” The doorbell rang, so Jo released her dad. “That’s probably Shelby. Now I can start the hollandaise. It’s about time, I’m starving!”
With hope in her heart that her dad would finally come around, Jo jogged to the front door and opened it. Shelby stood on the other side, looking pale. Jo reached out and tugged her inside. “Are you okay?”
Shelby shrugged out of her coat and hung it in the closet. “Morning sickness sucks. I would’ve stayed in bed, but I know we need to talk.”
“Thank you for making the effort. But I can’t fight with a sick person. Let’s see if you can keep your breakfast down, and then we’ll see.” Jo wrapped her arm around Shelby’s shoulders and led her into the kitchen, recalling her many bad mornings when she’d been pregnant. “Do you want some hot chocolate and soda crackers first?”
“That sounds perfect. But—” She took off running toward the bathroom. Good thing they’d grown up neighbors so Shelby knew where everything was. The delay might have been unfortunate otherwise.
Later, after everyone finished breakfast, except for Shelby, who stuck to her cocoa and crackers, Jo started the cleanup. She’d filled the dishwasher first, and then the sink with hot soapy water for the pans. Shelby appeared at her side with a towel to dry. Her color was back to normal.
Jo handed over a wet pan. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah. But I don’t know for how long, so please hurry up and yell at me.”
Jo sighed. “I’m not going to yell at you. I’m just really disappointed. You knew I’d never take a dime from Chad. So the lie hurt.”
“I’d rather you yell at me than be disappointed.” Shelby put the pan away and then came back for more. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I apologize for that. But that aside, it’s just money. We paid the rent and the loan amount every month, just like we would if the money had come from the bank. And look what you’ve done with it, Jo.”
“Yeah, but would I have had the same opportunity if Chad hadn’t been the one to loan the money to us?” She scrubbed the frying pan harder than was necessary. “I just hate that I’ll never know for sure. It’s like when people break sports records, but then they have an asterisk by their name because there was some special circumstance.”
Shelby laughed. “That’s an analogy I’d expect Chad to throw out. Not you.”
“Well, it’s true. I feel like I had an advantage, so my success doesn’t feel as satisfying as it did before I knew.”
“You’re going rub a hole in that.” Shelby grabbed the pot Jo had been scrubbing to death and rinsed it off. “If it helps, Chad wasn’t going to charge us interest, but I made him. He was so happy to help us, Jo. His whole face lit up when I asked. It was cute but at the same time heartbreaking to see how much he still loved you.”
Tears burned Jo’s eyes when she thought of Chad again. She’d been trying to think of anything but him since she awoke at six a.m. “He offered to forgive the balloon payment and pay back your investment so I could move to San Diego with him.”
“I know. He stopped by my house before he left, desperate for advice to win you back. I told him he had to figure this one out on his own. He’s as miserable as you are, by the way.”
“That should be reassuring, I guess.” Jo pulled the plug on the water. “But I don’t hold out much hope for change.”
“Me either. He asked me to give you something.” Shelby walked over to her huge purse on the counter and pulled out a large envelope. “I was tempted to steam it open, but I restrained myself because you’re already mad at me.”
“Good thinking.” Curious, Jo dried her hands and then opened the sealed legal-size manila envelope. There was a note inside.
Hi, Jo.
I saw you transferred the money back to my account. (Technically it won’t go until Monday, so you still have time to change your mind.) But we had a deal. You fix my knee, and I give you the money you need for your expansion. You’ve held up your part of the bargain, but now I haven’t done the same. I always keep my word, but since you’re probably the most stubborn woman on this planet, and I hate arguing with you, you left me no choice but to tear up our loan agreement. Please find inside the pieces shredded too small for you to put back together. I know you’d try.
I still expect the rent to be paid on time as always. I’m a mean landlord and don’t forget it.
Jo smiled as she wiped away the tears gushing from her eyes so fast she was having a hard time seeing. Then she went back to reading.
Thank you for keeping my Heisman safe. I’ll be back to retrieve it one day. But as I thought things through after you left, I realized that even after football, when I become an architect, I fully intend to commit to that profession as I have sports. I’ll probably always be this way, and therefore never good enough to earn your love. You deserve better than that, Jo. And I hope you find someone who can give you what you need. But you will always be the only woman I have ever loved with all my heart. (You might find a few pieces of it at the bottom of this envelope along with the scraps of paper.)
Chad
Shelby, impatient as always, said, “What does it say?”
Jo couldn’t speak. She just handed it all over to Shelby and headed to her room for a good cry. He wasn’t even going to try to change.
She slowly navigated the steps to her bedroom and softly closed the door behind her. Then she walked to the closet and stared at his Heisman. She should probably just go put it back. She thought it’d prove a point, but he’d just given up on them.
How ironic that now it was her left with just a hunk of metal that couldn’t love her back.
16
“CHANGE, CHANGE, CHANGE” MAKES FOR GOOD SONG LYRICS, BUT IT’S EASIER SAID THAN DONE.
Chad rolled out of his Jeep Saturday afternoon and hobbled inside his house. Practice had been brutal all week, but the last one had been the worst yet. He had a screaming headache from the press conference, and then interview after interview after that. The PR team’s plan was to hype his return so hard and big that no one would even remember any leaked texts and video. They’d even gotten the fans involved in a new contest predicting how many reception yards he’d gain in the game the next day. The winner won a trip to Costa Rica.
He threw his bag by the utility room door, then made his way to the kitchen. After he’d grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, he scooped up the bottle of pain meds his trainer had given him. He’d been popping them like candy all week to get through the day. And the nights. His knee hurt so bad, it kept him up.
He’d quit taking the pills after the season was over. He didn’t want to get hooked on them like so many of his friends had.
Chad shook out the meds and was about to toss them back, but then stopped and stared at them. Was he already in danger of getting hooked on them? Just to prove he was okay, he put the pills back and instead grabbed a beer from the fridge. He took the cold bottle out to the deck and flopped into a chair.
The cool air blowing off the ocean, the seagulls calling, and the crashing of the surf hitting the sand usually relaxed him, so he closed his eyes and made himself think about the plays they were going to run the next day. He didn’t want to let the fans down. He needed to prove that he was as good as he was before his injury. Sometimes it wasn’t ab
out being faster, it was about being smarter. That was something he had over the younger players he’d be up against. He and the QB had been in perfect synch earlier, just like old times, so he’d show those docs who’d doubted his return. He’d show them in spades. Chad Jenks was back.
But he was so damned tired.
He took a long pull from the bottle in his hand and then grabbed his cell from his pocket. He wanted an update on Ryan, and then he was going to take a nap, like a little kid. Maybe he was getting old, but no one else had to know it.
His lawyer answered his cell on the second ring. “Hey, Chad.”
“Hi, John. What’s the latest?”
“Linda’s lawyers finally called the cops and told them Ryan was fine, and they were just having a vacation before they travel back to her home in Europe. So no help there. The police said they can’t justify the resources for a custody battle dispute.”
Dammit! “So are her lawyers still holding out for the five million?”
“Actually, I was just about to call you. I just finished going over their latest offer. They said they’d settle for three million, if you coughed it up by Monday. And then she’ll sign the agreement giving you primary custody and her visitation rights like we discussed.”
He pondered the new offer. It was just money, but Linda didn’t deserve a dime of it. “Did they say we could have Ryan back on Monday as well?”
“Yes. Which obviously means she’s still in Denver, or close by.”
He stared at the sunset-silhouetted sailboat bobbing in the ocean as he puzzled things out. “I checked, and Ryan hasn’t been in school all week. Can we get her on a truancy charge?”
“Maybe.” His lawyer was quiet for a moment. “I might be able to convince a CPS officer I know to check on Ryan’s welfare, if we could figure out where they are.”
The private detective he’d hired hadn’t come up with anything. And without the police’s help, they couldn’t get guest info from hotels. They were still screwed. “See if they’ll settle for two million. I’m getting tired of this. I miss my son.”
Perfectly Ms. Matched (Rocky Mountain Matchmaker Series Book 2) Page 16
