Chapter 4
Landon
FEbrUARY
“Landon, does Grover need to be walked?” Grace, my younger sister, personal assistant, and general all-around lifesaver, asks as she pets the pup.
I’ve been back at my house in Orlando for three weeks, starting to ease into normal life at home without football or travel on the agenda.
“Yeah, he’d probably appreciate that,” I reply before turning back to the two big heads sitting on my couch watching TV.
Also known as my little brothers. It’s Grace’s twenty-second birthday this weekend, so I flew them both out to celebrate with us. We’re all headed out to my boat soon for the afternoon, per Grace’s request. Although my brothers don’t have any complaints about an afternoon on the water either.
Rawley, at twenty years old, is filling out and almost as big as me, though I would never admit it to him. He’s still the little shit I grew up beating in everything, and I won’t let him forget that.
He’s also by far the biggest risk taker of all of us, so I keep my eye on him closely.
That’s why I brought him with me to Asia and Australia for a couple of weeks with his own football season over.
He made an arrangement to complete his classwork on the road for the trip, which was not a hard yes to get for a star football player.
And he’s basically killing time now that his season has ended, not having much interest in school anyway.
A sophomore now, he’ll almost certainly leave after his junior year for the draft.
After we got back from the trip, I made him an offer he could not refuse—to fly him to Florida as much as possible, meet the guys, and get exposed to pro football life.
All he has to do is not screw around too hard with his friends at college until the draft.
No reason to invite trouble for him and, by extension, our family.
Not to mention, he has the potential for a monster pro football career if he stays on track.
Even though it’s the off season, I don’t let my conditioning slide too much.
So now Rawley gets to “enjoy” pro-level daily workouts in my home gym while he’s here.
He’d never admit that he isn’t able to keep up, so I push him as hard as I do myself.
A worn out Rawley is much less likely to get in trouble.
Newly eighteen, Connor is the baby. He’s probably the smartest of us all, though Grace gives him a run for his money. He’s still stuck at home, living with our mom. A few more months and he’ll be able to escape to college this fall. Princeton—where Grace graduated from. Yeah, they’re smart smart.
Connor’s the black sheep in another way among us boys. He rejected football growing up, having fallen in love with soccer first. Shin guards and knee socks over pads and helmets.
“What’re you two idiots watching?” I ask them.
“There’s an awesome Premier League match in about forty-five minutes,” Connor says. “Liverpool versus Newcastle. So waiting for that.”
“That’s cool, I’m down to watch that,” I say, somewhat conciliatory after insulting him.
Meanwhile, Rawley’s driving the remote and flipping channels. Suddenly I see a flash of a popular Saturday morning show with a corner graphic that features Rori and says ‘coming soon.’
“Wait, go back to that,” I tell Rawley, who’s kept pushing through more channels.
“Back to what?” he asks.
“That Rori Reilly feature. She’s that American player that we saw at the Australian Open,” I explain.
Rawley acquiesces, probably not questioning my interest given it involves an athlete.
He flips back to the morning show, and I walk around the couch, sitting down in a space they haven’t yet occupied.
Between my big family and my big teammates, my furniture is also large.
All of a sudden, the ad break is over and the morning show talk host reappears. My brothers are bantering between themselves, so I cannot entirely hear what she is saying.
“Shhhhhh,” I tell them.
Then there she is on the small screen. Wearing a crimson cotton sleeveless dress, showing off her incredible body, her curly hair down and bouncing. Rori Reilly. Smiling at the camera like she owns the world. Glowing and gorgeous.
“So, Rori. You’ve reached top 10 in the world for the first time after your string of success in Australia at the warm-up tournament and then the Aussie Open,” the morning show host says. “This must be incredible knowing what you came back from with your injury.”
“Yes, it feels wonderful! I owe so much of it to my training team and doctors,” Rori responds.
“And wow—top 10, I heard that this morning! It’s such an honor to follow in the footsteps of all the women players who paved the way for my generation.
” Her media training has been solid, because she sounds both genuine and professional at the same time.
The interview goes on, but I’m watching her more than listening. No one has stuck as a point of focus for me like this before. What is it about her? I literally cannot stop staring at the TV. My brothers might as well not be in the room.
When she ignored my text after New Year’s, I tried to shake it off.
Instead my post-season trip to explore Asia once the Pro Bowl ended took a detour to Australia.
Hey, I’m an athlete, and it’s normal to go check out other sporting events, I told myself.
In reality, I wanted to watch her play. After our night together, I was curious.
So curious, I even texted a linebacker buddy, Alex, who’d played football at the same sports academy that she trained at as a teenager, asking him to tell me what he knew about Rori.
“Everyone was a little infatuated with her,” Alex admitted.
“She was hot, smart, and fearless. Most of the guys were intimidated too, because she was known as a bit of a heartbreaker. She had no time for any of us if we were being dumbasses, and when she did hook up with someone, it never lasted long before she wrote them off.”
Not sure what to do with that information, I tucked it away.
New Year’s was only a one-night stand, right?
So when she seemed to spot me in the stands at the Australian Open, even with the higher-level seats I got far away from the court, I quickly ushered Rawley out of the stadium.
No need to make things weird after a one-night stand.
That doesn’t detract from my attention on her now, my eyes glued to the TV.
She took that semifinal loss like a champ, it seems. The combination of her comeback story after the knee injury, her rise through the ranks since the quarterfinals of last year’s Wimbledon and U.S.
Open, and her semifinal breakthrough at the Australian Open has been catnip to the press.
She has been everywhere on the American media over the last two weeks.
As if on cue, the interviewer asks, “You recently were on Jimmy Kimmel and did a skit on Saturday Night Live, on top of interviews like this. Is this the Rori Reilly moment? Are you enjoying yourself?”
For a split second, I can see her mind whirling to figure out what she wants to say.
“I’m a tennis player and athlete at heart, to be totally honest. I would rather be on a court with a racquet in my hand than on television.
” She gives a small laugh, and the interviewer joins in politely.
“But it’s been fun to do these new things.
My mom always loved those shows, so it feels like a tribute to her. ”
“Oh yes, I’m so sorry about your mom,” the host says, wearing a sympathetic expression. “She passed when you were young, right? And that’s why you donate so much time to breast cancer causes?”
“Thank you, yes. I love to do anything that I can to be part of the fight to end breast cancer,” Rori responds.
I had seen that in the Google search I did. A photo of her at a fundraiser last year.
The host turns the conversation to a less heavy topic. At some point, my brothers quieted down to listen too, all of us locked into the TV.
“Yes, it’s fun to pick out the outfits I wear for each match,” Rori says, indulging a frivolous question. “I even designed my latest tennis shoes.”
“She’s hot,” Rawley mumbles out. I send a glare his way.
“She’s a badass, as you saw for yourself in Australia.”
The interview ends with the host thanking her for coming, and Rori looks at the TV camera to say goodbye. “Thank you to all my fans out there. I hear every cheer on the court and I appreciate it.”
With that remark, they cut the interview and transition to a feel-good, non-sports story.
Rawley sighs and starts flicking through the channels again.
My cue to stand up and find something more productive to do, like order the meal for Grace’s birthday dinner happening tonight after we get back from the boat outing.
Within thirty seconds, however, my phone rings.
“Hey, man,” Johnson responds when I say hello. “I’m sorry to rush this, but I need to ask a favor.”
“Sure, what’s up?” I respond.
“My sister’s gone into early labor and it isn’t looking great,” he explains. “I want to get there right away to help her and Mom, but I have a commitment the day after tomorrow. A photo shoot down in Miami for that new brand Triumph.”
Johnson, as starting quarterback of our team, is even more of a staple of advertisements and endorsements than I am. No surprise a new company would want him as their face.
“Aiden’s about to call you right after this,” he says, referencing our mutual agent. “Is there any way you could cover for me in the photo shoot? They said they would love to have you, and Aiden’s already working on the contract specifics.”
I hear the pain and stress in Johnson’s voice and don’t hesitate. “Sure, absolutely, let me hash it out with Aiden. I’m chilling for the next week, so no big deal to help. Today’s busy with Grace’s birthday and my kid brothers are here, but they leave early tomorrow morning. It should work fine.”
I hear him sigh with relief, and I commiserate. I cannot imagine what he is going through. “I’m so sorry to hear about your sister. I hope everything goes okay.”
“You’re the best, I owe you, Landon,” Johnson says, using my full first name, a sign of how intensely he is feeling. “I’m going to jump off, but Aiden should be calling now.”
Grace walks in with Grover as we both hang up. “Everything okay?” she asks, probably noting the serious expression on my face.
“Yes, yes, but I think I need to go to Miami the day after tomorrow,“ I respond. On cue, my phone is ringing, with the caller ID showing it’s Aiden.
“Hey,” I say as I pick up. “Johnson told me a little about this Triumph shoot, and I think I’m good to help. I was just going to decompress this week.”
“Great, I appreciate it,” Aiden replies. “I’m working with them on transferring the contract under the assignment clause now. They’d keep the same pay structure though, which is a little less upfront because they’re a new brand.”
I pause at that. “Okay, well, how much less?”
“Nothing you’ll be upset about, but let me break it all down in a second,” Aiden says in a placating tone. “Before I get to that, one other thing is that there’s a second person in the shoot. I don’t know if Johnson mentioned that.”
“He didn’t. Another football player?” It’s not uncommon for top football stars to suddenly be thrown together in commercials after competing against each other all season.
“No,” Aiden says. “It’s that new tennis phenom, Rori Rei-“
I cut him off, having heard all I need to.
“I’m in.”