Chapter 16 #2
The interview continued for another ten minutes.
Questions about my coming out experience, advice for young LGBTQ+ athletes, thoughts on the league's handling of targeted hits.
I answered honestly, the weight of performance lifting with each word.
This was different from playing. No playbook, no predetermined outcomes.
Just conversation, connection, truth. And it was good. Natural in a way I hadn't expected.
When we cut to commercial, Kendon leaned back with a grin. “That was fantastic. You're a natural at this.”
“Really?”
“Really. The camera loves you, and you're articulate about complex issues without being preachy.” He stood as the producer approached. “I think you just launched your post-football career.”
The producer, a woman in her fifties with keen eyes, extended her hand. “Mr. Morales, I'm Sandra Reeves, senior programming director. That was excellent work.”
“Thank you.”
“Kendon mentioned you might be interested in analyst opportunities.” She glanced at her tablet. “We've got an opening for our Thursday night college football coverage. Interested in auditioning?”
My heart kicked up. “Seriously?”
“Kendon doesn't recommend people lightly. And what you just did—being that vulnerable, that honest on camera—that's rare.” She smiled. “Plus, the phones are already lighting up. People respond to authenticity.”
After she left, I just stood there for a moment, processing. I'd come here thinking broadcasting was a backup plan if coaching didn't work out. But that interview, that conversation—it had felt more right than I'd expected.
“Told you,” Kendon said. “Natural broadcaster.”
“I was terrified the whole time.”
“Good. Means you care.” He pulled out his phone. “Speaking of caring, you mentioned wanting to talk about financial planning?”
Right. The real reason I'd asked to meet privately after the taping.
“Yeah. I've got some money from my contracts, but I need to be smart about making it last. Especially if I'm trying new things that might not work out immediately.”
“Smart thinking. How much are we talking?”
I gave him the numbers, watching his expression shift from casual interest to genuine attention.
Not set-for-life money, but enough to have options if I invested wisely.
The thought of walking away from Pittsburgh's guaranteed contract made my stomach clench.
Was I being stupid to leave that kind of security behind?
Kendon whistled low. “That's a solid foundation, but you'll need to be strategic. My advisor, Gail Laurent, she specializes in helping athletes transition financially.”
“Transition meaning 'don't blow it all in five years?'“
“Exactly. I'll introduce you.” He paused, studying my face. “What's your timeline for making this work?”
“I'm also interested in real estate. Specifically in West Texas.” I hesitated, aware of how this might sound. “There's a property I'm interested in. Mixed-use building in Marfa.”
His eyebrows rose. “West Texas? That's specific.”
I pulled up the listing on my phone, the adobe structure with high ceilings. “It's going back on the market next week. Previous buyer fell through.”
“And you're thinking investment property?”
“Maybe. Or something more.” I chose my words carefully, not wanting to share Dusty's business. “I've got some ideas about what could work there. Art gallery, maybe some boutique hotel space. The area's getting popular with tourists.”
“Marfa's got that whole artsy vibe,” Kendon said. “Could be a good investment if you do it right.” He studied me, and I found myself looking down at my phone, pretending to check the property listing again. “This is about more than just real estate though.”
I shifted in my chair. The lights felt too warm. “What makes you say that?”
“You got that look when you mentioned it. Same look you had at The Ranch when you were talking about your future.” His smile was knowing. “Someone special in Marfa?”
“Was. Maybe. I don't know.” I ran my hand through my hair. “I fucked it up by trying to fix things instead of listening. But I can't stop thinking about what could be possible if I approached it differently.”
“So, you're planning to show up with a business proposal instead of just money.”
“Something like that. If I can figure out how to structure it right.” I met his eyes. “What do you know about business partnerships? Like if two people wanted to go in on something together.”
Understanding flickered across his face.
“Smart. Partnerships are about more than just money.
They're about roles, responsibilities, shared vision.” He pulled out his laptop.
“Let's talk to Gail, see what's actually feasible. And I know a good business attorney who can help structure things properly.”
“Thank you.”
“Don't thank me yet. This is going to be complicated.” He started typing. “But if you're serious about building something real, then you need a proper foundation.”
The words settled into place. Proper foundation. Not just throwing money at a problem, but building something that made sense.
“I need to learn about business operations,” I said. “Real estate management, commercial leasing, partnership structures.”
“We can do that. I've got some connections in Texas real estate.” He sent an email, then looked back at me. “We'll need assessment, financing, business plan.” His fingers flew across the keyboard. “How much are you thinking for the initial investment?”
I gave him the number I'd calculated. Enough to buy the building outright, with reserves for renovation and operational costs.
Kendon whistled. “You're serious about this.”
“Completely.”
“And if it doesn't work out? If the business fails or the partnership doesn't happen?”
The question made my chest tight. “Then at least I'll have tried. At least I'll know I didn't just walk away.”
“Fair enough.” He stood, extending his hand. “Let's make this happen, then. Welcome to the next chapter, Cord.”
I shook his hand, feeling the weight of everything I'd just set in motion. Retiring from football, pursuing broadcasting, planning a business venture in Texas.
My phone buzzed as I left the studio. Text from an unknown number: Mr. Morales, this is Sandra Reeves. Thursday night audition scheduled for 3pm next week. We'll send details. Looking forward to working with you.
Broadcasting opportunity secured. Financial planning in motion. Business venture taking shape.
I pulled up the listing for the adobe building one more time. High ceilings, natural light, perfect for displaying art. Courtyard in back. Enough space for something more than just a gallery.
The question was whether showing up with a proper plan would look like partnership or presumption.
Only one way to find out.
I sent a text to Gail Laurent's number that Kendon had forwarded: This is Cord Morales. Kendon Michaels referred me. I have a time-sensitive real estate opportunity in Marfa, Texas that I'd like to discuss. When can we meet?
Her response came quickly: Tomorrow, 10am my office. Bring all documentation you have on the property and your financial statements.
Done. Set in motion. No turning back now.
I thought about that last morning in my suite, watching Dusty walk away. The anger in his eyes when I'd offered money. The hurt underneath it. This time would be different. This time I'd show up with partnership, with commitment, with a real plan. This time I'd get it right.
Or at least, I'd try.