Chapter 15
Vee
Drew’s lips moved but I didn’t hear what he said.
I plucked the earpiece from my ear. “I’m sorry, what?”
Drew smiled. “How are you doing?”
The end of the morning practice had just been announced. “My head’s swimming, but I’m not drowning.”
Approval shone in his smiling expression. “You’re doing well.”
Andrew Pratt was in his mid-fifties. He played college football at Notre Dame.
Instead of playing in the NFL, Drew went straight into coaching, first at a high school in Indiana.
Then he moved up to coaching in Division III college.
About ten years ago, he made the move to the NFL.
He coached offense at New Orleans and Buffalo before coming to the Coopers as a quarterback coach three years ago.
Dad felt he had more talent and moved him up to offensive coordinator last year.
The difference between Drew and Royce Beasley was that I’d been a part of the Coopers when Drew arrived.
He knew me as part of the administration despite my age and gender.
“The plays are called fast,” I said. “My notes are well and good, but I need to keep working so I don’t need to refer to them as often.”
“You’ll be surprised. The language will become second nature. Soon, you’ll be hearing play calls in your dreams.”
“I hope not.”
Drew laughed.
“It’s exciting,” I said, honestly invigorated, “being this close to the action.”
He patted my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Vee.”
“Thanks, Drew. You can pass that on to Royce and Grant. Neither one of them thought I could do it.”
“They’re wrong.”
“Who’s wrong?”
Drew and I turned as my cousin approached. Before I could tell him that he was wrong, he spoke.
“Tell me the truth, Drew,” Grant said. “Is Vee cut out for the sideline?”
“I’d welcome her any day. She has a real knack for catching on. I’m sure stadium operations and marketing doesn’t want to lose you,” Drew said to me, “but you’re welcome here as much as your schedule allows.”
Grant remained quiet as Drew walked away. Once our offensive coordinator was gone, my cousin puckered his lips and blew. “Damn, you kissed some ass.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is kicked.”
“Offense is only half of the game. I was at the defense practice this morning. I’ll talk to Darius Brown. He’s our—”
“Stop being so fucking condescending,” I interrupted.
“I know who Darius is. He’s our defensive coordinator.
I could list the position coaches for you too, but you’re not worth the effort.
” When Grant didn’t reply, I went on, “I’m going to stay with the offense for now.
I don’t half-ass things. Once I’m more comfortable with the offense, I’ll learn about the defense. ”
Grant lifted his hands, palms toward me. “Fine. I gave you an out yesterday.”
“I don’t need you to save me.”
He quirked his dark eyebrows. “Speaking of yesterday, I went back to your office around five. Jen told me that you were still in your office with Griffin Graham. Did you mention that long one-on-one meeting when you went home to Preston?”
“Preston and I don’t live together, not that my living arrangements are any of your damn business.”
“You spoke, right? I’m talking about the man you’re supposed to be seeing.”
The small hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. “Preston and I had a short conversation as I was driving home. He’s busy in Bowling Green with Meadow Farms business.”
“Convenient. I get it; you didn’t mention the Fin meeting. What were you two talking about for hours?”
Taking off my sunglasses, I stared at Grant. “Why did you come back to my office?”
“Giving you another chance to get out of this.”
I shook my head. “I’m getting some lunch and checking my emails.”
“This afternoon is position practice.”
“Drew gave me a schedule. Don’t you have something you need to do, maybe with communications?”
“You’re right. I do.”
“I’m going,” I said as I walked away.
I placed my sunglasses on the top of my head as I entered the building. The air conditioning cooled my skin, covering my arms with goose bumps. There was an hour and a half before the next practice session. My growling stomach wanted me to go to lunch before emails.
The tables in the cafeteria were filling fast. Some of the players appeared to have showered, while others looked sweatier rather than water wet.
They were all out of their pads and practice uniforms and wearing t-shirts, nylon shorts, and basketball shoes.
Their attire made me grin, reminding me of what Fin wore yesterday.
“Welcome, Miss Maeve,” Janice, one of the Coopers’ top nutritionists, said, meeting me near the entrance. “I heard you were out with the practice this morning.”
“Rumors travel fast.”
“I overheard some talk. Sounds like you impressed Mr. Pratt.”
I lifted my cheeks in a smile. “I’m glad you didn’t overhear that I was a royal screwup or in the way.”
Janice laughed. “No one would say that.”
“What do we have for lunch?”
“Lots of protein. I can get you something.”
I peered toward the line at the counter. “I’m good. I’ll decide what I want as I wait.”
“You sure?”
“Yep, thank you, Janice.”
My five feet, seven inches had me at a disadvantage as I approached the serving counter.
While I could read the screen above with today’s food choices, the counter was completely hidden by the mass of men before me.
I stared at the amber of a Coopers t-shirt stretched over wide shoulders and a muscular back as I waited for the way to clear.
“Hey,” a deep voice bellowed.
Bodies shifted.
I turned to find Fin a few people behind me.
“Ms. Hubbard is here,” he called. “Do you animals think you could let a lady get her food?”
“Sorry.”
“Hey.”
The players parted, giving me a straight path to the counter.
I lifted my hands. “No, you don’t have to do that. I can wait like anyone else.”
“I heard you were at practice.”
I recognized Malik Johnson, one of our cornerbacks. “I was. I’m trying to learn more about football operations.”
“Ms. Maeve, you need to watch the defense,” he said. “We’re the real heroes of the game.”
The men around us cheered or booed and laughed. “I will. I promise. I think I need a little longer than one practice with the offense.” Then I asked, “You don’t mind me watching?”
“Hell no,” Malik said. “Oh, sorry.”
My smile grew. “I like a good hell no. Thanks, Malik.”
He motioned for me to go to the front of the line. Once I had my lunch tray, I made my way through the waiting men.
“How did it go?” Fin asked softly.
“You didn’t need to do what you did earlier. I don’t need special attention.”
“The practice?”
“It went well. Thank you.”
Fin winked. “I never had a doubt.”
“That makes one person. I need to get to my office and see what I’ve missed.”
“I’ll look for you this afternoon.”
I walked away with the crazy sensation of being a college student all over again.
No, I chastised myself.
Griffin Graham walked away from me.
What we had was over.
Then why was he acting like it could start again?