Chapter 9 – RHETT #2
“He didn’t talk to me often and rarely gave me details about his personal life no matter how hard I tried to change that.
But as I said, he didn’t speak to me after I couldn’t get him in the top five to Denver.
You got him at eleven. Big price drop between the two.
But his mother… she poisoned him against me for her own reasons. ”
Reasons like I never married her and only supported Russel because I saw who she was and what she was after, when it was already too late, but not late enough to ruin my life.
Even if I had married her, we would have had an iron-clad prenup.
She broke my heart. I loved her. I truly did.
I was going to college on a full football scholarship, and there was no way she was leaving Florida.
She told me she was on the pill, and she was until I got my acceptance letter and scholarship.
Then she suddenly stopped taking it regularly, and boom.
Baby daddy with a family worth billions and future prospects.
It served her quite well.
She’s still living in the home I bought for her and is on husband number three, I believe.
She’d roll into custody meetings with a Prada purse or in designer heels, and I knew exactly where my child support money was going while she’d cry and play the part of the poor, cast-aside single-mother, damsel in distress.
Our son was a weapon in her war toward an easy life.
I don’t know why I feel the need to explain myself, other than I get extremely defensive about it.
Whenever someone finds out that he’s my son, it makes me sound like I was a deadbeat dad who was never there for my son, when I was always there for him.
As a player, I gave up opportunities and potential championships to stay on my team in Florida and be with him when he was a kid, then took on a shit college coaching job after I retired.
It wasn’t until he was in college that I was offered an NFL coaching job out of state.
I’ve worked my ass off and my way up, and now I’m here.
“Quinn is a twenty-eight-year-old fourth-year resident, which is young for where she is. She was an Olympic athlete and completed high school when she was sixteen. She won gold for halfpipe snowboarding, then retired to get a head start on college. She had… issues with a fellow competitor. Someone who lied and intentionally hurt her. It made Quinn closed off and less trusting, and then she met Russel. She’s goal-oriented and extremely focused.
But he broke her heart. Badly. He did some things to her that weren’t the best, and one of them was getting himself traded and telling her about it after the fact. ”
I swallow, unable to form words. I fucked my son’s ex-girlfriend.
I’ve been talking to her for months. Making plans. Having fantasies.
How does a father make sense of that? Like it wasn’t bad enough before when I thought it was only my boss’s daughter and my players’ sister. Then there’s the other piece about her being twenty-eight.
I’m seventeen years older than she is.
So pretty much, all of that combined makes me a piece of shit.
“That’s… horrible. I’m sorry for her. Truly.”
“It’s been several years since he left. She’s more than over it. He’s your son, is very talented, and we want to keep you here and happy.”
“I…” Fuck my life. “Crew is a tight end. How does he feel about sharing?”
“We typically have two starters on our roster for that position, and Crew has always been a team player.”
“Russel likes being the star,” I admit. I’m fucking sick with this. “That said, he’s not a kid anymore, and I know he wants to win. And as you said, he has some image problems in Dallas that I’m sure he wants to shake. A new team and a better situation would likely help that.”
And despite everything, I’d like to coach him. I’d like him to be close and have a shot at developing a real relationship with him.
“Quinn is working here this season.”
My eyes close. I’m crazy about her. There’s no lying it away or denying it. I am.
But I love my son more than my life.
Still, the man in me doesn’t want him near her again.
I smile ruefully. Like I’d have any sort of say or dominion over that if he decided he wanted his second chance and she was willing.
He’s certainly more age-appropriate for her than I am.
“Maybe he’s willing to wait a year,” I say, regardless.
“And if he’s not?”
“Asher, you’re the GM. You make the deals. I’m here to coach your players. I don’t have plans to leave. This is the team and the job I wanted and left Denver for.”
More than that, it’s my shot at being a head coach.
The dream job. I’ve been a tight ends coach, an assistant offensive coordinator, and then an offensive coordinator.
This is my first time as a head coach, and how I do here, whether I stay here or not for the long term, will determine future job candidacy as well as my reputation in the league.
If I fail at this, my career is over or at the very least I’ll be forced to take a lesser job and maybe never get another chance.
It’s why Quinn telling me she prioritized work felt so perfect.
Like we could each have the best of both worlds.
Now that’s done, and I have to get my head on straight and focus on what I’m here to do.
He smacks my back and stands. “I’ll think about it and see what Dallas is willing to offer. He’s a talented kid, and I believe he would help the team overall, but I won’t let him hurt my daughter twice. Not to mention, I’m not sure how Mason or Crew would feel about playing with him.”
“Understood.”
No wonder Russel was suddenly in for talking and seeing me. Is this about the Rebels, or is this about the girl he walked away from? I can already bet it’s not about being closer to me.
Yet another thing I’m pushing away today.
I stand and walk over to greet my quarterback, my tight end, and our new team orthopedic surgeon.
“Hey, Coach.” Mason extends his hand, and I shake it. I’ve met most of the players before today, including him. We had lunches and meetings over the last few days even if today is our first official time on the field.
“Good to see you. You too, Crew.”
“Thanks, Coach. Happy to be here.”
“Hi, I’m Rhett Jones.”
Quinn shakes my hand as she did earlier, but something extra flashes in her eyes.
Jones is a very common last name. I can list about five or so players and another five or so staff off the top of my head.
It’s likely why Asher didn’t put it together sooner.
Plus, as I said, neither Russel nor I ever mentioned the other in interviews.
That was his choice.
Not mine.
But I followed his lead, willing to do whatever it took to make him happy, even if it felt like shit not to announce him as my son to do so.
Before Asher can say more or out who I am, the rest of the team starts to take the field. Quinn excuses herself and heads to the sidelines, where the other medical and training staff are congregating.
I’d love to tell you that I don’t track her there, but I do.
I’m too aware of her. I have been since I first saw her walk into that bar.
Except this is my career, and right now, my career is the only thing I’ve got.
So I can’t allow myself to be distracted by anything.
Especially not my son’s pretty ex-girlfriend, whom I happen to remember exactly what she tastes like.