Chapter 6
Vee
“Vee,” Jen said as I entered my outer office. “I wasn’t sure you’d be in today.”
“I’m sorry. I should have messaged you. We didn’t get home until morning.”
Her smile widened. “Fantastic game. Oh my gosh, Griffin Graham.” Her expression dimmed. “I bet you were scared.”
“Terrified.” I exhaled. “He’s doing better now. His shoulder was put back in the socket.”
“Do you need anything, coffee, lunch…”
“I’m good. After I take time to weed through emails, I’d like you to come talk to me about what’s happening in stadium operations.”
Her eyes widened. “Sure. I’ve been fielding calls and emails from the directors. Everyone is in hyper-mode after the Coopers won first seed.”
I nodded. “I’ve been watching, but I know you’re more in the loop than me. Give me thirty minutes and let’s put our heads together.”
“Sure thing.”
Walking into my office, I found a bouquet of amber-colored roses sitting on my conference table. I peeked my head back out of the doorway. “Who brought the roses?”
Jen looked up from her desk. “A delivery person. I didn’t read the card.” Her cheeks took on a rosy hue. “I thought it might be personal.”
After hanging up my coat and putting my leather bag in my desk drawer, I approached the flowers. A small envelope was held on a long plastic clip. On the outside it read: Maeve Hubbard. I pulled the envelope from the clip and opened the flap.
Inside the card read:
“Congratulations on a great season. You’re in the spotlight now. I hope you can handle what comes with that newfound fame. The truth will come out. Daddy isn’t here to stop it.”
I turned the card over.
No name.
Dropping the card, Fin’s protein muffins twisted in my stomach.
“Jen,” I called.
Within seconds, she appeared in the doorway.
Her expression morphed to concern. “Is everything okay?”
“Come read this card.”
My assistant came closer and picked the card up from the table. As she read, she crinkled her nose. Finally, she looked up and her gaze met mine. “What the hell?” She turned the card over. “Who sent these?”
I shook my head. “Is that a threat?” I inhaled. “Could you try to find out who sent them? Where’s the wrapping?”
“In my trash can.” Jen turned, hurried from the room, and pulled a small wastebasket from beneath her desk.
I followed.
“It says Mishler Florist.” Her eyes widened. “I know that place. It’s close to University of Kentucky.”
“Can you call them and try to learn who sent these?”
“Right away.”
Shaking off the eerie chill, I returned to my office. Leaving the flowers on the table, I took the card to my desk, sat in my soft leather chair, and reread the message.
“Congratulations on a great season. You’re in the spotlight now. I hope you can handle what comes with that newfound fame. The truth will come out. Daddy isn’t here to stop it.”
“What truth?” I murmured to myself.
Turning the card over in my fingers, I willed some new bit of information to appear.
It didn’t.
Opening the middle drawer, I tossed the card inside.
“I don’t have time for that.” I turned my focus on my computer.
While I was the vice president of stadium operations, I had six departments and directors under me.
Six amazing, hardworking directors. Each director oversaw a more specific area of stadium operations.
Misty Barton was the director of facility and building maintenance.
Rex Stone was the director of field turf and grounds.
Roland Clint was the director of event and game-day operations.
Gavin Weiss was the director of safety, security, and emergency services.
Fran Holland was the director of guest services and fan experience, and finally, Caleb Larssen was the director of vendor and third-party oversight.
Each director had his or her staff.
While I was learning the ins and outs of football operations, being back on this side of the franchise was where I truly felt at home.
The only stadium ops director who was part of the Coopers before I came on board was Roland Clint.
The other five were my hires, people who moved up from other roles. In my opinion, I had an A-plus team.
They were already ten steps ahead.
My desk phone rang.
I picked up the receiver.
“Mayor Watson is on line one,” Jen said.
A smile came to my lips. “Put her through.”
“Mayor Watson,” I said.
“Vee, we’re so proud of the Coopers. This is wonderful for Lexington.”
“Thank you. We’re thrilled with the success. We still have more games to play.”
Her tone subdued. “As soon as the Coopers go all the way, I want to get busy on your and your father’s plans for infrastructure.
From the sound of things, during the playoffs we could fill over a thousand more hotel rooms if we had them.
I’m hearing that hotels in Frankfort, Mount Sterling, and even as far away as Richmond are filling fast.”
“After the season is done,” I said, “I look forward to doing whatever I can to help facilitate this plan.”
“I spoke to Grant Marsh earlier. Next week we are having the first of many spirit weeks in Downtown Lexington and around Crystal Light. We want the entire city wearing Coopers amber.”
“Mayor Watson, that sounds fantastic. I’m sure Grant will fill us all in tomorrow during our meeting.”
“I know you’re busy,” she said. “I wanted to touch base and tell you how excited we all are for the success of the Coopers.”
“Thank you.”
My smile stayed in place as we disconnected the call, and my thoughts went to Dad. He’d be walking around on cloud nine if he were here.
The next two weeks would be busy and exciting.
The Coopers only secured the first seed last night after midnight and the mechanics were in the works for our next two games.
I knew there was a chance we could lose and game two of the playoff schedule could be held in another stadium.
However, none of the planning happens overnight.
It was better to be prepared for a two-game run at Crystal Light than to wait and be under the gun.
Each director answered when I called their personal phones.
They all reassured me that we would be ready for as many games as possible.
The emails went out to season ticket holders this morning, and we already had an eighty-six conversion rate.
Eighty-six percent of our season ticket holders purchased seats for game one of the playoffs.
That was something I would proudly share during tomorrow’s executive meeting.
Hell, it would be higher by tomorrow.
A knock on my partially opened door caused me to look up.
“Vee, I learned all I could about the flowers.” Jen made a sour face. “It’s even weirder.”
Exhaling, I sat back in my chair. “What did you learn?”
She came forward and took one of the chairs before my desk.
“As you know Mishler’s is local. Apparently, there is something called a floral relay network.
They use companies like Telefora or FTD.
Well, when an order is made from anywhere, the floral relay network sends that order to a shop local to the recipient.
” She feigned a smile. “That’s why sending flowers is so expensive. ”
“Are you saying Mishler’s got the order from one of those companies?”
“Yes. They said the sender didn’t enter or contact the store directly.”
“But…” I had to get my mind out of field preparation and security and on this. “There was a name or a credit card, right?”
“The name” —she shook her head— “the name on the order was Jack Sparrow.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Like the character? Johnny Depp sent me flowers with a threatening message?”
Jen shrugged.
“What about the credit card?”
Jen shook her head. “They can’t give out customers’ credit card information without a warrant.”
“I don’t want that.”
“Vee, I’m sorry. The flowers threw me for a loop. I meant to let you know Mrs. Hubbard called for you.”
“Daphne? When?”
“It seems like it was around ten o’clock.”
At ten o’clock I was sleeping. Did I miss her call?
I reached down and pulled my cell phone from my purse in the lower drawer. “Why would she call here? She knows my cell number.” There were two calls from Grant but no missed calls from Daphne. I looked back up at my assistant. “Did she say what she wanted?”
“She asked for you to call.”
Shaking my head, I caught sight of my screens. “Daphne can wait. Let’s talk stadium operations.”
“Let me go get my notes and we can get started.” Jen stood. She stopped as she got to the doorway. “I’m sorry I couldn’t learn more about the flowers.”
“Oh, speaking of those. Take them out to the front office. That way other people can enjoy them. Honestly, they creep me out.”
It was after four when I realized I hadn’t yet heard from Fin. Again, I checked my phone and email. Nothing from him or the trainers. I sent Don Tilson a quick email asking if he’d been given any injury information.
Rubbing my temples, I smiled at Jen. “You really have a feel for stadium operations—all of it. My directors are fantastic, but their knowledge is specialized. You see the big picture.”
“Thanks. I try to think of what you would ask. You need more than Gavin’s information on security. You need Misty’s information on Crystal Light and Rex’s information on turf and grounds. It’s a whole package.”
My cheeks rose. “You’re right. It is.”
After Jen stepped away, I sent Fin a text message.
“WHAT IS HAPPENING? I HAVEN’T RECEIVED ANY NEWS? I’M ALSO READY TO GO HOME WHEN YOU ARE. WHILE THE NAP WAS NICE, I’M READY TO NOT THINK.”
I hit send.
Grant came into my office without so much as a pause or knock. “I didn’t know you’d be in today. I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“I’m here. It appears you are too. I keep my ringer off when I’m working.”
He sat down in one of the chairs opposite me, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his suit coat. “Yeah. Something odd happened this morning.” He narrowed his gaze. “Wondered if you knew anything about it.”
“This morning, I was sleeping.”
“Detective Oldson showed up at Daphne’s house today, woke her, and asked her questions.”