Chapter 12
Vee
That achievement cemented Beasley’s longer-than-usual time as a general manager. Despite his first-year success, the Coopers have never again made it to the Super Bowl.
“Vee,” the coach said, entering my office.
In his mid-fifties, Tilson was a handsome, rugged-looking man who gave off the air of superiority and indifference. He was known for brutal press conferences after a loss and being only slightly more polite after a win.
“Coach” —I gestured toward the chair beyond my desk— “please have a seat.”
Unlike Grant in his custom suit, Coach Tilson was wearing blue jeans and a Coopers pullover. His small pudge of a belly showed that while he knew the best conditioning and moves for the team, he didn’t regularly partake in the workouts himself.
He exhaled. “I’m sorry…”
I shook my head. “We all are. We need to concentrate on the next game, not the past.”
Tilson pressed his lips together and nodded. “That’s why I’m here. Every Monday morning, before we show film and work with the team, I would meet Reid in his office. We’d drink a cup of coffee and discuss the game. It was an unofficial meeting, never scheduled. No one took notes. We simply talked.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It was our time to make sure we were on the same page.” He inhaled and leaned forward. “Last night, it hit me that we didn’t get that time yesterday.”
A lump of emotion formed in my throat that I tried to swallow. I knew what he was feeling. Dad and I were supposed to meet yesterday morning.
“That’s why I’m here, Vee. You’re now the owner. I spoke with Andrew Pratt and Darius Brown about your work this season in learning plays.”
“I don’t think I’ll have time for that…” I began.
“They were both impressed.” A small smile cracked his veneer. “And let’s be honest, they aren’t easy men to impress.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
“The thing is,” Tilson went on, “the players—all of them—are also impressed by your presence at practices and games.”
I caught his addition of “all players,” wondering if it was referencing Fin in some way.
“I don’t know. There’s a lot I don’t know.”
Tilson straightened his neck. “I could be gone tomorrow. I know that. It’s how this game and career choice goes.
What Reid did for the franchise can’t be learned overnight.
You don’t have to listen to me, but I would like you to consider maintaining your presence.
If you show the players that the Coopers will go on, they’ll believe it. ”
“And all the other things Dad did?”
“Darin or Rachel would know the most.”
It was my turn to inhale and sit taller. “Thank you, Coach. I have many things to consider. I would like to meet with you and all the coaches this afternoon.”
“We’ll be happy to meet with you.” He stared for a minute. “Tell me your thoughts on Sunday’s win against the Cardinals.”
Leaning back and puckering my lips, I exhaled. “I-I.” I hadn’t thought about the game since Sunday, but that wasn’t what an owner should say. Clearing the cobwebs in my mind, I thought back to Sunday. Sitting forward, I gripped the armrests of my chair. “Our offense was good.”
“Good?”
“Not great. Play calling was too conservative in my opinion. The Cardinals’ defense was reading our plays. Especially when Pratt had Simpson on the field. He only had a three and out. His drive ended with a punt.”
“What about Graham?”
“He had an eighty-eight-yard touchdown in the beginning of the game,” I said without changing my expression.
“We’ve seen Graham throw the ball downfield, yet it was as if after we had points on the board, Pratt only called prevent offense—short shuffle passes, handoffs, and short runs.
He kept the clock running, but when the Cardinals’ quarterback threw that Hail Mary in the third, our lead was cut in half. ”
Coach Tilson nodded. “You would have called different plays?”
I mustered a small smile. “I’m not on the sidelines to make calls or micromanage. I’m there to learn and discuss. We’re discussing.”
“Defense?”
“Saved the game. Malik’s interception in the fourth quarter was the play that swung the momentum solidly in our favor.”
Tilson smiled and stood. “I’m looking forward to our talk next Monday.”
“Is that the way you talked with Dad? Because it seemed like you were listening more than talking.”
“I’m doing both. You were paying attention on the sideline.”
“Of course.”
Tilson nodded. “One more thing…?”
I also stood, maintaining eye contact. “Yes?”
“There’s a rumor.”
“I seem to recall my dad saying that rumors are carried by haters, spread by fools, and accepted by idiots. We don’t have any haters, fools, or idiots on the Coopers…” I arched my eyebrows. “Do we?”
“No, ma’am, we don’t.”
“I’ll look forward to our Monday morning unscheduled meetings.”
His grin quirked. “Seven sharp.”
“Oh,” I said with a scoff. “Early.”
Tilson’s grin disappeared. “Reid was always waiting for me, until yesterday.”
“Until yesterday.”
As Tilson walked away, I thought about all he said.
Without my discussion with Grant and Cammy, I could have taken everything at face value.
Tilson genuinely enjoyed the unscheduled meetings with Dad.
Pratt and Brown said complimentary things about my work on the sidelines.
Tilson felt my presence would be beneficial for all players, and he listened to my thoughts on our last game.
It was his comment about Uncle Darin or Aunt Rachel.
Is Tilson being nice or was he working for me to abdicate the position of CEO?
After Coach was gone, I removed my phone from my bag.
I’d missed multiple calls; some were from family and friends.
There was another call from Preston and multiple from unidentified numbers.
Deciding I wasn’t ready to tackle any of those phone calls, I was about ready to lay my phone on the desk, when it vibrated with an incoming text message. The screen read Fin.
“HOW ARE YOU DOING?”
A smile curled my lips as I texted back.
“OH, YOU KNOW, ANOTHER DAY IN PARADISE.”
“REMEMBER TO THINK ABOUT OUR KISS IF YOUR DAY GOES SOUTH.”
Our kiss. I wished that could be my main thought. Instead of texting back, I sent a smile with a heart for lips emoji.
I arrived to the Carroll meeting room about fifteen minutes early.
Aunt Rachel was present. “Vee,” she said, “I invited Bre Stanton to this meeting.”
I nodded a closed-lip smile to Dad’s assistant. “Why?” I asked Aunt Rachel.
“Because if anyone knows what your father did on a daily basis, it would be Bre.”
Exhaling, I took the seat at the head of the table. “That’s an excellent idea. Bre, can you tell me about Dad’s Monday-morning meetings with Coach Tilson?”
“They happened before I was in the office. Every Monday following a game, I’d get to the office and they’d either be talking, saying goodbye, or there would be two coffee cups in the kitchen.”
Her story supported Tilson’s.
Over the years, Dad made remarks about Bre being a great assistant.
He often spoke of her abilities. In her early forties, Bre was also an understated beauty.
While they were both slender, in every other way she was the opposite of Daphne.
Bre had a runner’s body. I couldn’t recall a time I’d seen her with much in the way of makeup or flashy clothes.
“I know Dad thought the world of you, Bre.”
She dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “I’m sorry for being emotional.”
“We need to focus on keeping the Coopers running the same as they would if Dad were still here.”
Bre nodded and pushed a folder in my direction. “Last night, Mrs. Marsh called and asked me to put together Mr. Hubbard’s weekly schedule.”
I took the folder. “You don’t have this all on your computer?”
“I do. Mr. Hubbard liked paper. He said when he could hold something it was tangible—real.”
I opened the folder. The document was prepared as if Bre had copied pages from a daily planner. I began to read. My smiling facial expression didn’t match the fresh tears flowing down my cheeks. I looked up at Aunt Rachel. “Do you have a copy?”
She nodded.
“What do you think?”
“I think Reid will be missed. I also think that Bre is essential for helping the next CEO.”
“You don’t think that should be me?”
Aunt Rachel looked around. It was still the three of us.
“I think that you’re capable, Vee. It seems to me that midseason isn’t the best time for a change of owner and CEO.
” Before I could speak, she lifted her hand.
“I also know we don’t have a choice. As Reid’s sister and your aunt, I’d like you to consider that you could assign the job of CEO to someone else on a temporary basis. ”
That was similar to what Coach Tilson said.
Aunt Rachel went on. “And maybe that person could work with you so that you’re able to take over the position in the future.”
“Dad said you wanted to retire.”
“I told him that during preseason. I’m getting old and I’d like to enjoy life. Maybe travel and not for football games.”
I nodded. “When?”
My aunt sighed. “I told Reid I wanted to retire following the postseason.” She tilted her head. “I’m willing to work a little longer.”
“You’re essential with football operations.”
“The reason I asked Bre for this information was because my assistant, Millie Jones, is capable of doing my work. Similar to Bre, she’s been with the franchise for many years.” Aunt Rachel’s green eyes met mine. “Am I interviewing for the temporary position?”
“Do you believe I have that power?”
She inhaled and leaned back. “Who spoke with you?”
“Grant.”
Aunt Rachel swallowed. “Vee, Reid loved you. Do I wish he’d signed the new will?
Yes. As a matter of fact, he and Darin were in a heated discussion during the last game.
The reality is Reid didn’t sign. You, Maeve, are now the owner, just like Reid was when our father passed away.
At that time, Reid and I were co-vice presidents.
I was football and he was business.” She shook her head. “You know our history.”
“I do.”
The door opened and others joined us.