“Stalk much?”
“You want to know what it says?” she questioned with the phone out and at the ready.
“I’m fifty-fifty on that one.”
“Speed is breaking hearts as fast as he’s breaking away from tackles,” Ilsa began reading. “Celebrations and congratulations all around. Following the dismissal of Jerome Speed’s latest paternity case brought forth by a Keisha Cousins has flipped the time to settle down button on the father of one, despite murmurings to the contrary. The above photo was taken yesterday dispelling any rumors about the Grizzly running back taking up with socialite Danika Albright. He may have been with William Albright’s daughter for the last few weeks, but the romance must have dwindled.”
“What photo?” Ilsa turned her phone around and Dani saw a perfect candid family photo. Candace and Rome were smiling as DeMonte had their full attention while playing. Ilsa flipped the phone back to finish the article.
“The billionaire’s daughter was not available for comment, not surprising since earlier this week we shared intimate photos showing her canoodling with the five-time All-Pro back. The Down and Dirty will have to keep a closer eye on the Speed Demon of Love.”
“What intimate photos are they talking about?” Dani swallowed hard and feared her parents would be coming down to breakfast soon.
“I didn’t think they were very intimate. Except the one on the boat.”
“Sweet Jesus.” Dani buried her head in her hands. “We were miles from shore.”
“It was you coming off the boat.” Ilsa set her phone down and leaned in closer. “What happened on the boat? And who’s this Keisha girl?”
“No clue and nothing.” Dani scrambled and headed off to her room right as her phone rang. Answering it, but hitting speaker she tossed it on her bed. “What?”
“Randall called me,” Rome’s deep voice was apologetic. “I didn’t even know I was being followed. They’d left me alone for years.”
Dani frantically stuffed her books and laptop into her bag.
“Yeah, well now I’m going to try to do damage control and get out of my house before—” the knock on her door made her stop and flop on the bed. It wasn’t a request to enter. It was a warning that her father was coming in whether she wanted him to or not. “Have I ever told you my father has an internal clock set to perfect timing?”
“Danika,” her father said as he opened her door.
“I have to go, Rome.”
Chapter Ten
The phone in Rome’s hand flashed back to the home screen. Fuck! Not only had he not had time to apologize for standing her up, but Dani had stepped into a scandal. If there was one thing he’d noticed about Danika Albright, she didn’t do tabloids. Aside from a dozen articles from about five years ago about her sister, the only time the Albright name found its way in the media, followed deals her father made. Rome hadn’t been one to Google a person, but with Dani he made an exception. Not seeing the woman driving you crazy for a week at a time would do that to you.
“All good?” Dalton asked as he flipped the silver buckle on his shoulder pads, locking them in place, trapping his massive belly between the tight game day pants and the hard plastic. Linemen in general were muscular, but their bellies tended to be Buddha the early years. “Did Dani break your heart?”
“Other way around I think.” Rome tossed his phone in his bag and pulled his pants on over the girdle shorts that provided the hard padding he preferred. “You met my boy last night.”
“DeMonte, right? Didn’t know you actually had a real kid.”
“The paternity popped and I’ve been sending the minimum required by state law, which is still a fucked up amount to not have access. You know, that was the first time that bitch Candace let me see him. I’ve been dropping a little over ten grand a month and she’s fighting me on visitation. This shit system is against the father. Who needs ten grand a month and still somehow qualifies for assistance. DeMonte doesn’t even live with her. He’s living down in Roseland with his grandmother.”
“And she’s getting your fetti?”
“Exactly.”
“Those working out for you?” the public relations guy asked, breaking up their conversation. It was the first time they’d been allowed in pads, but it was just for promo pictures.
“Yeah, they’re fine.” Rome pulled on the new jersey style they were using for the season and headed into the studio that had been set up to take pictures of a few of the veteran players.
Holding a football with one hand on top and one on the bottom, Rome was the center of the picture with a few linemen behind him. Then he held it out straight at the camera. A dozen other poses with a few other players and he headed back to the locker room to get ready for the last few days of OTAs.
“You know,” he said as he unhooked his shoulder pads and looked at Dalton. “If he wasn’t living in one half of a duplex, that last time I saw was falling apart, I’d have less of a problem with it. Candace is living it up in Naperville. I’m surprised she isn’t in a condo downtown. Her fuck buddy must live there.”
“Jealous?”
“Not even slightly.” Rome reached for his practice jersey and looked down at the poly-blend fabric resting in his hand. Damn, there were too many things running through his head. “Bad part is, I don’t know if I’m more comfortable with him not being around her man and having DeMonte living in a dangerous neighborhood. You know how fucked up insecure men get.”
“Yeah, and not having to work because you’re dropping a stock broker salary on the house each month has to be eating away at him.” Rome couldn’t tell if Dalton was joking or not. “This doesn’t explain how you broke Dani’s heart.”
“You know her Tuesday rule.”
“Yeah, that sucks during the season because we have Tuesdays off.” Dalton’s face shifted and he suddenly realized. “You stood her up to be with DeMonte and she had no way to know.”
“Then some damn paparazzi snapped a family pic and slapped it all over the internet. I’m the Speed Demon of Love because they had shots of Dani and I from a few weeks ago.”
“I need to catch up on my gossip.”
“Dani’s getting reamed by her father right now.”
“For what? Not getting him season tickets?”
“Yeah, something like that.” Rome was already in the doghouse for a host of indiscretions, the last thing he needed to do was add to the fire by outing Dani’s family line.
“No seriously, what’s the issue? Did her phone get hacked with naked pictures?” The smile on Dalton’s face surged the jealousy Rome usually had under control.
“You’ve seen me naked enough in the shower.” Rome tried to defuse the situation, but failed.
“But Dani, with that ass. Please say those pictures got out? Or you have them.”
Rage was a motherfucker, especially when Rome’s fuse was shorter than a fly’s dick at the moment. Rushing a lineman with close to two hundred pounds of muscle over him was his second error. Dalton just laughed and shoved Rome back into a chair. The locker room went from a dull roar to silence.
“What?” Dalton barked in his deep bass. “You never seen me block a guy? That’s my level one get this shit out of here block. Next motherfucker that comes after my Berry Good Bar will find out why those defensive pansies don’t come around the left side.”
“Technically speaking,” Adrian Marcum, the all-pro defensive back said as he reached for his helmet and curled his fingers around the facemask. “We go left all the time. Our left, not yours. But don’t worry, Gresham, we aren’t about to take your stash of candy bars.”
“They’re power bars,” Dalton corrected, keeping the tough psycho killer façade up.
“If that’s where you get your power, we might have to start running the other way.” Adrian tapped the other two d-backs standing next to him and they headed out of the locker room.
“Back to you.” Dalton put his hand on Rome’s forehead. “You might need to see the tea
m doc.”
“And why would that be?” Rome asked as he turned his eyes up to see the massive hand.
“You’ve caught feelings.” Rome smacked Dalton’s hand away. “Don’t blame me, you need to see a specialist or something.”
“I haven’t caught shit.”
“You like Dani and not in the usual way.” Dalton passed Rome his helmet. “Whatever you did, fix it and don’t let it fuck up this practice. I think Marcum has you in his sights today.”
“My ass as I run past him, maybe.”
Dani had never been more excited for a test than her micro econ one. Anything to have a reasonable excuse to get the hell away from her father’s lecture on public perception and her responsibility. She’d thankfully been living in the dorms when her sister went off the deep end a few years ago. God knows the rages during holiday meals were enough to keep her away between family responsibilities.
After two hours and seven blue books, she couldn’t really feel her right arm. It had gone numb somewhere around book five. As she sat in the vestibule by the door, she dug her left thumb into her forearm while rotating her right hand.
“You didn’t answer my text,” Esme accused as she approached Dani.
“Would you pick up your phone if my father was on a rant?”
“You had the drive to school.”
“You’re right, dying from a texting and driving accident could have helped my mother start another charitable campaign.”
“And would have answered my question.” Esme sat across from Dani and placed her hand over Dani’s. “Don’t be brave. Exactly how pissed off at Rome are you?”
“I’m not anything right now. Are we ready for tomorrow?”
“Dani, don’t do this. If you go back in the dating closet and hang it up because of one—”
Dani pulled her hand away. “When you say closet are you trying to get me to make out with you again?”
“One time when I was half in the bag and you can’t let it go.”
“If I remember right, you were the one who thought my breast was your own personal stress ball.”
“You’ve got good tits. Be proud.”
“That’s the second line on my resume. MBA from Northwestern, used as the breast model of perfection for plastic surgeons around the world.”
“Wait, let me find my purse, I owe you fifty cents.”
“I told you my smart ass comments are choice and deserve more.” Dani conceded defeat. Esme was the only friend she had she could trust to keep her mouth shut. “Look there’s a part of me that’s frustrated, but I’m not hurt. Rome got a chance to hang out with his kid. He’s never even seen more than a picture of him. The only thing I can be mad about is him standing me up and that’s more my fault because of my stupid rules about turning off my phone.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. There’s no picture of him pinning her up against a wall. Or in some deep ass make-out session.”
“He pinned you up against a wall?” Esme fawned as she closed her eyes. Dani snapped her fingers in front of Esme who held her hand up. “Just give me one more minute. I’ve almost—”
“Okay,” Dani stood. “I’m assuming you have your half of the project done and I’ll be on my way.”
“No,” Esme whined and grabbed Dani’s hand and pulled her back down. “Can’t I have a little fun?”
“Not if you’re imagining yourself being fondled by my man.”
Esme straightened up. “You’re what?” She smiled broadly.
“I mean…you know…look. His first call was to me and then my dad came in my room and I had to hang up.”
“He still ditched you.”
“He ditched me for DeMonte. His son, not that woman.”
“You sure?” Esme questioned.
“Until I hear different and see a picture that looks more incriminating, I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt.”
“Is this one of those grown up things?”
“Yes.” Dani went back to working out the sore muscle in her arm. “Plus, I’m not too grown up. This bitch has cut me off from him more than once. And not at a very opportune time I might add.”
“Oh really?” Esme leered. “Any chance—yeah that look tells me no.”
“And who says your brilliance doesn’t extend into the real world?”
“Bastards, that’s who.”
Two hours, three way too early in the day cocktails, and a plate or two of appetizers shared between them, their project looked ready to go. Then again, Dani scratched a note to review when the room wasn’t on a tilted axis. Driving herself home wasn’t an option at the moment. Instead, she ordered a glass of water and settled in to sober herself up and finally get back to the people who’d left messages the night before.
A flash from outside the restaurant made her close one eye to get rid of the spots. Assuming it had come from chrome on a car, she took another sip of her water and started again. A second, third, and fourth flash unsettled her and she looked up to see a guy with a big camera and even bigger flash pointing the lens directly at her. Looking from side to side and behind her, she tried to figure out who, what, and where this jackass was trying to capture. Then, she looked at her table with six cocktail glasses that hadn’t been cleared by the waitress Esme had dismissed when she’d been hovering too damn much and distracting them. A plate of only chicken bones and another with small dipping bowls they’d used with their soft pretzels sticks. The headline on Down and Dirty flashed in her mind. Depressed and drunk socialite tries to cope with a broken heart.
Yeah, so not happening on her watch. The last thing she needed was to lose clients from a bullshit lie. Storming out of the restaurant, she took off after the chicken shit who back peddled while still shooting.
“If you don’t give me that goddamn camera right now.”
“Public street,” the man with his blue baseball cap on backwards, t-shirt, and jeans all of which looked to of not been washed for weeks, the man included said. “I’m just taking pictures of the scenery.”
“And catching your reflection in the window, right,” Dani snarled right as she was about to reach him, but they were at the end of the block and he turned and hightailed it down the street.
“Fuck,” she swore as she dropped to a crouched position and put her fingers on her temples. The uneven gait she had didn’t help her as she’d rushed the guy who now had crazy woman pictures to add to the damn drunk and depressed. Tripping a bit, she made her way back to the restaurant and made the one call she never wanted to make.
“Albright Holdings International,” the bright and chipper secretary greeted her over the phone.
“William Albright please, it’s Danika.”
“One moment.” The hold music didn’t help with the dizziness as Dani gulped the water and waited for her dad.
She wouldn’t let him start, the lecture alone would make her stop before she asked for help so the moment the hold music clicked off she spoke. “Dad, I need your help.”
“There are times, Dalton, I wonder why I have you as a friend,” Rome said as the trainer poked on his ribs.
“That was barely a love tap.”
“Your BDSM desires aside, Marcum isn’t my type.”
Adrian Marcum had been on a mission all practice and somehow he had been able to get past Dalton thanks to a swim move by Jared Harrison, the defensive lineman that had to have put on fifty pounds of muscle in the offseason. A second stringer last season, he was making the move to take over the starting position and helping stop Jerome Speed would be a good start.
“In my defense, Guthry changed the snap count and his dumb ass seems to think Yeltsvinick was the only one he needed to tell.”
“Is there a dissention among the line? Just tell me now.”
“The Southern playboy just needs to learn he’s not in Mississippi and he’s not in college anymore.”
“Yeah, well I’m not his favorite teammate by far,” Rome groused at being hit during a no contac
t time.
“You don’t highlight that cannon of an arm.”
“Are you about done?” Rome asked the head trainer who’d prodded him up and down his left side for the last five minutes. Standing on the sideline of their practice field, Rome could feel the eyes on him. The rookies who probably had his poster on their wall at one time, now saw him as either a mentor or an obstacle. Either way, they weren’t paying attention to the play on the field or the coaches. “Seriously, Bucky, buy a guy dinner first.”
“You know I have to take extra care of you,” he replied with his patented gravel. Having worked for the Grizzlies for forty years, he’d seen more than his share of injuries and he was the one assigned to the franchise players. “At least he didn’t mess up that mug of yours. Wouldn’t want the Speed Demon of Love out for the season.”
Had everyone heard about that? “You need a hobby.”
“I have one, fishing, and if I could get to my cabin in Wisconsin more than two days in a row I might actually get to relax. Instead, everyone’s all in a tizzy over you.”
“Are we going to need the doc?” Coach Marshall asked as he approached, in a set of navy blue athletic shorts and polo both donning the Grizzlies emblem. At six-foot-five, the lean former college lineman looked the part of a head coach even though he was only forty-five. The current face of the organization, he’d taken to the short trim hair most white guys had.
“Nah, but if you’re going to have them at full contact you might want to add a rib protector.”
“I can’t run with that,” Rome said as he pulled his jersey back down.
“I know you all just want to play in t-shirts and shorts with full contact,” Bucky grumbled. “Fuckin’ morons. The padding is there to extend the life expectancy of your bones and joints.”
“Good, get back on the field, Speed,” Coach Marshall ordered. “And Gresham, he doesn’t need you to hold his damn hand.”
“You sure about that, coach?” Dalton joked and got a look that had the giant jogging back to get in position.
“Any smart ass cracks from you?” Coach Marshall challenged Rome.
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