by Erin Hayes
I gulped, and I tried to keep it together, and tears began spilling onto my cheeks. I just felt so tired, so damn tired of all this.
“Madison,” he whispered, his voice dropping lower.
I don’t know who moved first, but somehow, our lips connected. I closed my eyes and leaned into him, feeling his arms come around me. Maybe this was what I had been looking for when I came down here from my office. Safety in the arms of one of the men I cared about.
But, then... What if someone saw us? What if this made the news again?
I didn’t think that Sydney would like it. Hell, the whole state of Alabama would hate it.
I stepped back, breaking the kiss and touching my lips with my fingertips. “I’m sorry. That was a mistake.”
Rodney’s eyes fluttered in confusion as he stared at me. “A mistake?”
“Between you and Andre and Clancy,” I said, gesturing helplessly toward the field, “I just...I can’t. I just need to think.”
Not with everyone watching. Not when I felt so conflicted.
Rodney narrowed his eyes. “You kissed me.”
I didn’t think that was the case. It was kind of a combined effort. He certainly didn’t seem to mind. Neither did I. Until now.
Fuck, what was happening?
I took in a deep breath. “Sorry.”
He guffawed and put his hands on his hips, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t get you, Madison. You sleep with Andre and Clancy—”
My cheeks burned. “I didn’t sleep with Clancy.” Weak excuse. But damn it, I was going to stick to the facts.
“Are you just going to try to get with everyone on the team? Do you know how weird that is?” He glared at me.
“Andre and Clancy don’t mind,” I said, and even though I had told him that I didn’t sleep with Clancy, that kind of undid my argument. What the fuck ever. “They know what’s important to me. They’re okay with it.”
Rodney let out a laugh. “They’re okay with their woman being with another man? Or two? Or, hell, a full team?”
I ground my teeth together. “I’m no one’s woman.” In my world, I was in control of my own destiny. No one owned me. I owned no one. Equality. That was what I believed in. And to be called someone’s woman...? I nearly shuddered.
“You can’t have your dick and eat it too, Madison,” Rodney said, anger edging into his voice.
I stared at him for a long moment, aghast at his statement. “I don’t want to eat your dick, Rodney. I just want to be happy. I want all of us to be happy. And if you’re not okay with that arrangement, then this won’t work.”
He nodded. “You’re right, it won’t.”
And he turned and left. If I had anything left in me after today, I would have flipped him off. Yelled at him. Something.
But as it was, I just felt tired and hollow.
I didn’t spend any more time looking for Ashley. I went home, where I curled up on my bed with the only male I didn’t worry about reporters getting details on: Winston.
And he begrudgingly let me spoon him while I cried.
Good dog.
Bad Madison.
Chapter 11
After the debacle in the newspapers, I decided that it would be best if I stayed home for the Hammers’ next away game in New Orleans. Not only would it be spending money to fly me out there that the team didn’t have, I just didn’t feel up to it. I couldn’t fuck up any headlines or news if I wasn’t around my guys.
I was the owner of my own team and business now. So when I called in sick, I could do it and no one thought anything of it. Or maybe they did, and they just didn’t tell me. Either way, I was the boss.
So I called in sick—to myself—and stayed home.
It made sense.
I snuggled up next to Winston while drinking a bottle of wine and fretting over the game. Winston enjoyed sitting next to me and begged for scratches on his head and under his chin.
It offered me some respite. But not enough.
“I can’t stand this,” I muttered as I pulled out my laptop, anxious to feel like I was contributing in some way. I opened up my email to see if there was a response from Noel Pennington, my friend from college who was a programmer and would be able to help me update the program for a football team.
Nothing.
I cursed under my breath as I started a new email and tried writing him again.
“Are you okay?” Ashley asked as she took the bottle of wine from me and poured herself a glass. “You’re even more nervous now than you were waiting for the next Infinity Wars movie.”
I shuddered. That was the worst wait ever. Except I was now finding that watching football gave me the same feeling.
The Old Madison, the one I was before I inherited a football team from Uncle Dusty, would have laughed and said that I was crazy for having everything ride on a silly game. But it wasn’t a silly game. Not anymore. I knew how much to it meant to Andre and Clancy and the others.
I knew how much it meant to me now.
“Peachy keen,” I muttered as I hit SEND, and off went my email. So much for the wine taking my mind off everything. That took all of five minutes and I was still back where I started.
Grumpy with nowhere to go.
“Still haven’t heard back from Noel?” Ashley asked.
“Nope.”
“Tell him I’ll go on a date with him if he takes you up on that.” I gave her an incredulous look and she just shrugged. “Anything to help the team.”
“You know he still has a thing for you, right?”
She grinned as she raised her wine glass and drank without responding. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I hit REPLY again and made that offer to him. I didn’t know whether to be amused at the thought or irritated.
After all, if this did work out, I could offer him more money than any Silicon Valley company would be able to. That was if it worked, though.
Right now, I didn’t even have money to fly myself out to New Orleans to support my team.
As if reading my mind, the cameraman at the game focused on Andre speaking with Rodney in what looked to be a heated discussion as they kept looking over at the home team. They were clearly disagreeing over something, and Carrie finally came into view to break them up. To frame it all perfectly, Clancy came on and spoke with both his aunt and his teammates.
Rodney looked pissed.
I wondered if he was remembering our kiss from the other day like I was.
I punched the volume button on my remote to hear what the announcers were saying. And they, too, were picking up on the tension.
“...Williamson and Nguyen look like they’re disagreeing about something, Jerry,” one of the voices said.
The other announcer, Jerry Something-or-Other, chuckled lightly like they were having a private conversation. “Maybe they’re having a disagreement over their new team owner, Madison Harte.”
“Oh yes,” the first one said, “if the rumors about her are true. Supposedly, there is something happening between Williamson, Nguyen, and even linebacker Clancy Drew.”
“Isn’t he the nephew of the Hammers’ new coach, Todd?”
“Oh yeah. Harte likes to keep things in the family, apparently.”
“Too true, Todd. Too true.”
I listened to them, absolutely mortified. I thought this was a football game, so why the fuck were they talking about my love life like this was E News Extra? First the newspapers then this.
Ashley grabbed the remote and muted the TV. “You don’t need to hear that.”
I was so stunned, I couldn’t even form the right words to convey what was going through my head. “How...how could they?” Seriously. What the hell did any of that have to do with how the Yellowhammers were playing?
Ashley was already busy pouring me another glass of wine. A big one. “People are miserable in their own lives, Madison,” she said soothingly. “You just need to keep your head in the game.”
I made a strangled noise
in the back of my throat. “How can I when everyone else wants to put their own heads into my game?”
She handed me the glass. “It’s just jealousy. Or fear. You can’t let it get to you. Now, have you heard from Noel or do I need to offer him two dates to make it more enticing?”
“He wouldn’t have responded already,” I said, rolling my eyes as I took the glass from her. But, just to appease her amused grin, I pulled up my emails again, and...
“Holy shit,” I muttered, more to myself than to her as I clicked on the new unread mail. “He responded.”
She grinned and did a pseudo bow from our couch. “The offer of a date did the trick!”
I read it quietly as she sat and scratched Winston’s head.
Subject Line: RE: Re: Re: HELP—Repurpose Combat Sim Prototype
Hey Madison! Long time no see!
Wow, that’s a blast from the past. So glad you were able to keep that program from the breakup of your company.
I’d love to help if I can. I don’t know much about football, but the game engine should be loose enough to allow me to input new behaviors and make the AI work like a football team. May take me a few weeks, but I’m between contracts right now, so I should be able to do it. Birmingham, huh? That’s a long way from San Francisco. Is Ashley there? Does she really want to go on a date with me?
Noel spent the next two paragraphs talking about Ashley and asking how she was. Clearly, Ashley knew exactly how to get Noel to do what she wanted.
I replied to him, giving him Kathryn’s contact information so she could set up his itinerary to fly him out here as soon as possible. I wanted to have him get the program done in time to actually help my team before the season was up.
For a moment, it almost felt like old times, where I was the founder of my startup, and I was asking people to speak with my admin to get everything set up. Football was not just a game: it was a business, too. One that I was finally starting to get the hang of.
“Maybe he should take me out for chicken wings,” Ashley said, giving me a sly smile as she eavesread over my shoulder. “That white sauce seemed to work wonders on you and Rodney.”
“Don’t you dare break Noel’s heart,” I said as I hit SEND again. “He’s a good guy.”
Ashley’s face fell, just a fraction. “I know. I don’t seem to fall for good guys, do I?”
I was about to respond to her when something on the screen caught my attention. We both stared at the TV as the feed cut from the game to the studio, where the two newscasters were sitting with Coach Mack.
Again.
I swear, ever since I fired him, he’d been getting more TV time than ever before. It was as if he was now much more interesting for the networks because he was somewhat controversial for the Yellowhammers.
And the son of a bitch looked so pleased with himself, wearing a polo shirt with an embroidered logo that I didn’t recognize.
“Turn that up,” I said, gesturing to Ashley to unmute the TV.
As if as horrified as I was, she hit the volume button without taking her eyes off the screen.
“...with former Yellowhammers head coach Mark Mackenzie,” the newscaster said proudly, turning to the old man. “Although we hear that you just signed a new contract with another team.”
The smug asshole grinned. Proud. That’s what it was. He was damn proud of himself. “That’s right, Todd. The ink’s still drying, but I’m the new offensive coach for the San Antonio Armadillos.”
“Someone would hire him?” Ashley asked incredulously. “I thought he would have been blacklisted.”
I could only shake my head as the feed continued, every second getting worse and worse. “Offensive coach?” the newscaster—Jerry, I think he was called—said, looking very interested. “That’s a little bit of a different move for you.”
Mack sat forward, clasping his hands and milking every cent of this interview for what it was worth. “Well, it was time for a change. Leaving the Yellowhammers gave me the opportunity to find a team that appreciated my skills better.”
“You’re damn right,” I muttered.
“And I hear you’re appreciating your new salary,” Todd said, and they all laughed like this was some huge joke. Because $1.5 million was apparently not enough for a chauvinistic pig like Coach Mack.
And, because of that, I wondered how much they were paying him.
He wasn’t going to ever get another dime from me.
“Well, that’s a benefit, for sure,” Mack said, grinning. “But I’m glad to be on a team that knows what it takes to win. And it’s not what Miz Harte is doing to the Hammers.”
All three of them snickered, like it was a suggestive pun.
“That son of a bitch,” Ashley said, rising to her feet. I wanted to shush her, but I was too shocked to really do anything.
All I could do was stare.
“Well, I have to say,” Jerry said, shifting in his seat, “I look forward to the Dillos playing the Hammers in the last game of the regular season.”
Mack turned toward the camera and smiled, as if he knew I was watching. “I look forward to it, too. I think it will be enlightening to see the difference between how a team should be coached and what Miz Harte and Missus Drew are doing to the Hammers.”
In anger, Ashley turned off the TV. Not just muted it but turned it off completely.
“You don’t need that shit,” she said.
I groaned and combed a hand through my hair. “He’s going to do everything he can to try to ruin me.”
“He’s reaching,” she said. “He’s just trying to hurt you.”
“Well, it’s working,” I muttered.
As if to add insult to injury, my phone rang. I picked it up and looked at it, frowning at the number. It was a number that I recognized, and it was one was that I was wishing I had blocked.
“Jacob,” I said, shaking my head.
Ashley gave me a confused look. “What the hell does he want?”
I shrugged. “Stay quiet.”
I must be a glutton for punishment, because I hit the answer button and put it on speakerphone. “What the fuck do you want, Jacob?” No greeting. No hello. I just felt in the mood for growling at something.
My ex seemed like the perfect punching bag. Ashley snickered.
“Whoa.” For once, Jacob sounded surprised. Good. I caught him off-guard. “What’s wrong, Mads? Your team is winning.”
“I thought I told you to fuck off,” I snarled, although I was surprised to hear that the Hammers were winning. Between emailing Noel and Coach Mack’s snide remarks, I hadn’t been paying attention to the game.
Some team owner I was.
I turned the TV back on and muted it, but CCSN was onto different sports at the moment, so I couldn’t see the score, only the highlights for sports and teams I couldn’t care less about.
Jacob only laughed, which sent a chill down my spine. I used to find that laugh sexy. Used to think it was one of the most wonderful sounds in the world, especially when he was laughing with me.
Now, I knew he was only laughing at me.
“I don’t see you at the Yellowhammers’ game in New Orleans,” Jacob said, and I could almost hear the frown in his voice. “Usually they comment on the owners during the game, especially in a wild turnaround like this. Where are you?”
I gritted my teeth. “None of your concern. You should be back in San Francisco.”
“I’m not,” he said.
Across from me, Ashley raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“You’re not in Birmingham still, are you?” I asked.
“No, I can take a hint.” That same laugh again, although I could feel that tightness in my chest release bit by bit knowing that he wasn’t so close by. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh, relieved until I heard the next words that came from the speaker. “I’m in San Antonio.”
Ashley mouthed, “What the fuck?” as I nearly dropped the phone in surprise.
Coincidence? That out of a
whole country of other cities, Jacob would be in the one where Coach Mack had just become a coach? Not a chance in hell of that.
I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. “What are you doing in San Antonio?”
“You told me to leave Birmingham.”
“But why San Antonio?”
“Why not San Antonio?” Oh my God, he was enjoying this.
“Because—”
“Because your ex-coach is now working for the Armadillos.” Holy shit, he sounded like he was damn proud of himself. Ashley clamped a hand over her mouth, as if to keep from screaming. Hell, I was close to screaming, too.
I licked my lips. “So, you are there because of him.”
“Well, not just because of him.” Jacob chuckled darkly. “You see, I tried talking to you about it. About how you had such a great opportunity fall in your lap, Mads, with this whole sports team thing.”
“You hate sports, Jacob.”
“I love opportunity,” he insisted. “And I wanted to be a part of something, just like you are with the Yellowhammers. So I approached Mark Mackenzie—”
I rubbed my eye with the heel of my hand. “You did not!”
“—and the owner of the Armadillos, and I offered to invest in the team. Much like you and your sponsors you’ve been trying to get.” He chuckled again. “So you’re looking at the newest member of the Armadillo family. Well, other than Mark. We kind of came as a package deal.”
I put my hand to my forehead, wondering if this were some sort of horrible nightmare. That maybe I was dreaming all this up and I’d wake up to find that nothing was wrong.
Ashley still sat on the couch with her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. I was surprised that she had kept quiet for as long as she had.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “Because, Mads.” And that was all he said.
Whether he called me to gloat or something, I couldn’t tell. But...fuck...
My hand started to shake. I let out a low breath, just at the same time as Ashley’s hold on herself broke.
“You fucking creep!” she yelled into the phone. “Leave Madison alone!”
