Chapter 13 Chelsea #2
As the third singer of the day bombs his way through an Eminem rap to groans and grimaces in the auditorium, I glance at Luca to see his reaction to the poor guy’s misery and discover he’s already staring at me.
When our eyes lock, Luca smolders at me in a way that tightens my lower abdomen.
Flushing hot, I look away as tepid applause for the latest rookie singer ripples through the room.
The damage has been done, though. Surely, my face told Luca everything he needs to know about my current, thumping, undeniable attraction to him.
“Nice work, Jordan,” Dad says to the most recent rookie.
To the crowd, he announces, “That’s it for today, fellas.
Now, go get yourselves some dinner before heading to your final breakout sessions.
This time, you’ll be with your offensive, defensive, or special teams coordinator, as the case may be. ”
Everyone starts rising from their chairs and stretching while talking and laughing about the show they just witnessed.
Several people call out to Luca to compliment him on his ridiculously enthralling performance, and not surprisingly, Luca replies to everyone with enthusiasm, wit, and charm.
My father basically dared Luca to show some leadership skills during his song, and Luca conquered the challenge with flying colors.
I guess the real question is what Luca will now do on the field with all that newfound goodwill and momentum.
When nobody’s calling out to Luca any longer because they’re all heading for the exits, Luca turns to me.
“Hey, are you coming to dinner this time, Coach? If so, I’ll save you a seat.
” He’s asking because I skipped out on our first dinner last night, opting instead to study film on Luca in my hotel room over a microwaved cup of noodles.
I open my mouth to tell him, sure, why not, but I’m cut off by a male voice calling my name. To my shock, it’s Bellamy, and he’s now walking toward me.
“Go on ahead,” I say to Luca. “I’ll meet you there.”
“It’s okay. I’ll wait for you in the hallway.”
I can’t help glancing at Luca’s gorgeous ass as he bounds away, even as I’m heading toward Bellamy. Ultimately, we meet in the middle in the aisleway.
“Hey, Chelsea. That was quite the performance from Luca, huh?”
“Yeah, he’s definitely not lacking in the personality department, that’s for sure.”
Bellamy shifts his weight. “I came in before dawn today to get through some paperwork and I noticed you putting Luca through some drills on the practice field, bright and early.”
“Yeah, he worked his tail off for me today. I’m super excited to help him progress and grow as a player.”
“So that’s going to be a regular thing? He’s agreed to that?”
“Yep. I’m going to do everything in my power to turn him around, so when he starts showing drastic improvement by all standards and metrics of his position, you’ll know the improvement was thanks to me.”
Bellamy smirks. “I must admit, after Luca’s performance just now, I’ve acquired an increased interest in getting him across the line.”
My heart rate increases.
“As you know,” he continues, “thanks to the contract terms my aunt agreed to with your father, he’s got full control over the names that make it onto his final roster. So I don’t have the ability to get Luca over the line myself.”
Oh no. “Mr. Bellamy, if you’re asking me to try to persuade my father to—”
“No, no. I know that wouldn’t be effective. Your father clearly adores you, but he’s not going to put any player onto his roster who hasn’t earned the spot.”
I exhale with relief. “I’d never ask him to do otherwise.”
“Yeah, I know. But still, he did personally ask you to coach Maguire, and you’ve already got him listening to you, right? So, I’ve got an idea. A proposal, if you will. Something that would be a win-win-win for you, me, and Luca if you’re able to pull it off.”
I shift my weight, feeling increasingly stressed out. Where’s Bellamy going with this? If given ten guesses, I don’t think I’d get it.
“You still want that job that’ll be opening up in my department soon?”
My heart stops. “Yes, sir. Very much.” It’s an understatement. As far as I’m concerned, that job could be the key that eventually unlocks the door to all my biggest dreams.
“Okay, then get Luca Maguire onto the active fifty-three-man roster in six weeks, through any means necessary, and the job is yours.”
My heart stops. My jaw drops. I’m so flabbergasted, I can’t speak.
“On the flip side, however,” Bellamy continues, “if Luca doesn’t make the cut, then you’ll agree I’ll never be bothered again by you and your bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, data-analyzing, wide-eyed ambition ever again.
No more presentations. No more pulling me aside to give me elevator pitches.
You’ll keep your head down and help your father doing whatever he keeps you busy with, and you’ll dutifully stay completely out of my way. ”
I’m equal parts humiliated, infuriated, and enthralled in this moment. Yes, he’s being condescending and dismissive of me. Clearly, he doesn’t actually believe I can deliver on my end of the bet. But what he doesn’t know and I do is that nobody should ever underestimate a Parker.
“If I agree to these terms, would I have your solemn vow that Peter’s job would be mine?”
“If Luca makes the fifty-three-man roster, then yes, you have my word. As long as you agree not to blame me if things don’t work out for Luca as you’re hoping. Let’s face it, he’s a dark horse here. A real long shot. And with the extreme lack of respect he’s got for your coaching abilities—”
“No, Luca respects my coaching abilities now. Our drill session this morning completely changed his mind about me.”
Bellamy looks deeply surprised.
“It’s true,” I insist, flushing hot. “Luca told me so himself this morning. He said I’m ‘damned impressive.’”
Bellamy twists his mouth like he’s choosing his next words carefully.
“Whatever it is, just tell me,” I blurt. “No need to sugarcoat it.”
Bellamy clears his throat. “I don’t know what he told you this morning, but I was in the security room this afternoon, following up on some routine stuff with the security team.
On the bank of screens, we noticed all the coaches leaving their classrooms for some reason, which got our attention.
And when the players in your room started chatting, rather than sitting quietly and studying their notes like they were doing in the other rooms, we turned up the sound on your screen to see what they were talking about. ”
I suddenly feel an intense sense of dread. “Did Luca say something about me to the other linebackers—something about not respecting my coaching abilities?”
Bellamy nods slowly. “I’m sorry, Chelsea. I didn’t think this news would be a surprise to you. I thought for sure Luca would have said the same things to your face as he’d said behind your back.”
I swallow hard, forcing down the bile rising in my throat. “What exactly did Luca say about my coaching abilities?”
Bellamy looks deeply uncomfortable. “He said from what he’s seen, you don’t have what it takes to make your big dreams come true. He did say he’s rooting for you, though, because, hey, everyone needs a dream. But in your case, it’s a ‘pie-in-the-sky pipe dream.’”
I gasp. “He said that?”
Bellamy nods. “He said you’re not qualified to be anything but his glorified babysitter and that the rest of the squad should ‘pity’ him for getting stuck with you, basically, as his punishment for his stunt on the uprights.”
He elaborates briefly, and with each word spoken, I feel more and more enraged.
“I’m sorry, Chelsea,” Bellamy says. “I thought for sure Luca would have told you these opinions to your face.”
“He did. But at our one-on-one this morning, he totally changed his tune.”
“Huh.”
The conversation has been soul-crushing for me. So much so, every ounce of lust, swoon, and genuine affection I felt for Luca mere minutes ago during his singing performance is now gone, replaced by nothing but deep-seated humiliation, stomach-churning embarrassment, and murderous, white-hot rage.