2. Evren
Evren
M aking the last-minute decision to come to Quincy’s charity event just might be the best decision I’ve made in a long time.
I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time to overhear Hunter tell his offensive teammates during their workout at the team gym that Nina would take his place tonight.
With one generous donation, I secured my spot—right next to her.
Nina pointedly looks anywhere but at me as she sips her champagne while Elodie gets pulled into a conversation with Quincy and his wife, Nora, when they arrive at the table. Quincy’s the center, one of Hunter’s best friends, and a real asset to the team.
Minutes later, Jake, the quarterback and team captain, and Trey, the left tackle, arrive and settle into their own seats .
“Trey!” Nina says with far too much excitement for my liking. “Elodie showed me a picture of the penguin you sewed, and I’m obsessed. I need one in my life.”
Trey chuckles. “What if I sewed you two instead?”
“Now you’re talking,” Nina says, almost bouncing in her seat.
I’m bewildered. Trey, who’s six-six, over three hundred pounds, and a fierce player, is into…sewing?
“And what about me?” Jake asks Trey. “You going to make me something too?”
“Depends,” Trey drawls. “Are you going to work on your footwork, or do I need to sew a pillow for you to nap on during practice?”
“Evren doesn’t pay me to run around,” Jake says, smirking, “but to make game-winning throws.”
“I pay you to do both,” I deadpan.
Trey laughs and Nina huffs. I glance at her in surprise.
Was that a huff or more? I can’t tell, not when she’s focused on the others and not on me.
She sometimes acts like I’m invisible, and that’s probably for the best. She has no idea how much easier it is to maintain control when she’s not looking at me.
This pull I feel toward her gets stronger every time I see her, but it’s not like it can go anywhere.
She’s too young, too vibrant—too everything I’m not supposed to want.
There’s no point anyway, not when I plan to leave Skyrise at the end of this upcoming season.
But even knowing all of that doesn’t stop me from looking. Or from craving her presence, like some part of me is waiting for—anticipating—the next time she steps into my space, like she belongs there.
“Evren.” A hand claps me on the shoulder, and I turn to face Harold, the old team owner.
He perpetually wears a kind smile that frames a round, weathered face.
At seventy-two, he looks every bit of his age.
Even if he left behind a mess, he helped me speed up the approval process from the NFL board to buy the team. For that, I’m thankful.
I stand and shake his hand. “Nice to see you.”
“I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
“I couldn’t pass up the chance to support something that matters.”
“Yes.” He glances at the team members who are unnaturally quiet.
“Well, I’m not here to crash your table.
I just wanted to congratulate you all on your Super Bowl win.
” He focuses back on me. “It’s an impressive accomplishment for your first year.
I guess you could say I gave you a head start.
” He chuckles, his tone playful.“Now let’s see what you can do on your own. ”
“Thank you,” I say, not sure how to respond to his statement. I hate small talk, and when I don’t say anything else, the silence grows awkward.
“All right,” he says, “I’ll get out of your hair, but if you ever want to meet up or need advice, I’m around. Retirement is more boring than I expected, and I’d be happy to support in any way I can. My years of experience and friendship with all the key players shouldn’t go to waste.”
“I’d like that. Let’s meet for drinks soon? ”
Harold agrees, and once he’s gone, Jake whistles. “What a douche.”
“Right?” Trey says. “I hate that guy.”
“Why?” I ask, genuinely curious. This is the first I’m hearing about any of this.
Quincy, Trey, and Jake all look at one another before Trey says, “He never listened, and would always brush aside our concerns like they didn’t matter.”
“You saw the facilities,” Jake says. “He wouldn’t invest in upgrades and it made us all wonder if Harold even cared about having a winning team.”
“Thankfully,” Quincy says, “it’s different with you.”
The praise sits uncomfortably on my shoulders.
The team’s dislike for Harold only amplifies the weight of responsibility I have as an owner.
When I took over the team last year, it was the most impulsive decision I’ve ever made.
I wasn’t thinking clearly when I bought it, but I made a promise to myself—two years.
Two years to turn this franchise into the best damn team in the league, to prove I’m not just a one-hit wonder in business.
After that, I plan to sell it for a profit.
No exceptions. Success or nothing. This time around, I’m relying only on myself to accomplish everything.
Trusting anyone else only leads to disaster, and unfortunately, I learned that lesson the hard way.
At Quincy’s comment, Nina glances at me, something like surprise flickering across her face. Eventually the conversation moves on to Elodie’s party, but Nina doesn’t join in. Instead, she’s still looking at me .
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“Keep looking at me like that and people might start to think you like me.”
She rolls her eyes. “That’ll be the day.”
Yeah, it would be. A day I crave yet dread in equal measure.
“Wait, let me get this right,” I ask Will, CEO of Stonehaven Bank, the next day. “You’re pulling out as our main sponsor?”
We have many sponsors as an NFL team, but they’re our main one.
And now they are pulling out? That’s unacceptable.
The team, the athletes, and the fans are relying on this money.
I have general stadium upgrades that need to happen before the new season starts in almost six months, and I want to implement an app that allows fans to have their food and drink orders delivered to their seat.
If Stonehaven leaves, I won’t have the money to fund either.
Will nods in response to my question but doesn’t elaborate.
“Why?” I ask.
Will straightens his thick red tie and clears his throat. “The innovation you’re doing with your team is commendable, but it doesn’t fit our brand. We think it’s best if we take a step to the side and not renew our contract.”
“So, Stonehaven wants to keep an old-fashioned image?” I ask, my voice laced with surprise.
I’m not buying his lame excuse for a single minute, especially when he can’t even look me in the eye while he talks.
There’s something more going on here, but I don’t have a clue what it is.
We just won the Super Bowl—why would our main sponsor drop out now?
Will shrugs as if that’s answer enough. He’s blaming the “innovation” I’m doing, but it’s not that innovative to use virtual and augmented reality to help the players train and heal from injuries.
It’s also not innovative to use chips in the shoulder pads of the players to evaluate their performance during training and on game days.
But apparently, we’re one of the only teams using the technology available to do such things.
And apparently , that’s too much of a step for Stonehaven to handle.
“I see,” I say, focusing outside and on the sun sinking below the skyscrapers of Skyrise City, all so different from my home in Istanbul. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”
“No, our decision is final.”
He could be trying to negotiate, using this hard stance to get a better deal, but my gut says he decided this months ago.
It’d make sense since he’s been delaying this extension for three months to be exact.
Three months of my time and energy wasted and he can’t even be honest and tell me why he’s not renewing .
If this is how Will conducts business, I no longer want his money.
I should be trying to salvage the deal, find something to leverage for Stonehaven Bank to reconsider, but I can’t.
Loyalty, honesty, and professionalism are of utmost importance for me in a partnership and Will is failing on all accounts.
The silence drags out and Will fidgets in his seat. I let it drag on for a few more minutes, enjoying his discomfort before standing.
“This meeting is finished,” I say, walking to the door of the conference room. “Please see yourself out.”
Some might think I’m being abrupt or rude by leaving like this, but time is my most valuable asset, and I refuse to waste even more of it on Stonehaven. I nod to Nate, my head of security, and Nate ushers Will to the elevators.
Once I close myself into my office, I sink into my chair. Taking a deep breath, I let out a string of expletives, ones that’d have my mom smacking me on the head for saying.
Stonehaven has thoroughly fucked me over. Most big companies are already engaged with other teams, and finding a sponsor now is a huge risk and complication that I don’t need on top of everything else I’m working on.
Squeezing my stress ball, I try to relax and reframe this issue as a challenge.
Solving time-sensitive problems is normally what I excel at in business.
It’s how I made a name for myself back in Türkiye when I took over a struggling e-commerce company and turned it into the equivalent of what Amazon is like here in the US.
But instead of feeling energized at the prospect of finding another sponsor, I’m just…
tired. This is also why I gave myself a two-year limit.
I’m getting too old to continue working at this pace, but this is my last chance to prove to myself I can turn around another business all on my own.
And too much needs to be fixed before next year.