Chapter 18
Vee
When the elevator door opened on the sixth floor, I was face-to-face with my cousin Leigh and her husband, Hayden.
“Vee,” she said loudly as she wrapped her arms around me. “Oh my God. That game was crazy.”
“What do we know about Troy?” I asked.
Leigh sighed. “Pickard, the Titans’ linebacker, is out for three additional games. Uncle Reid has been talking with people from the NFL office.”
“It was a late hit. Targeted.” I looked toward the family suite. “Is my dad still here?”
“Yeah. He’s been on the phone a lot since Dennison went out.”
There were more questions I wanted to ask, but Dad would be the one who could give me the answers.
We said our goodbyes as they went to the elevator, and I nodded to a familiar usher.
He opened the door for me. Despite the game having been over for nearly half an hour, the suite was still filled with people.
I was caught short at the sight of Preston.
“Vee.”
“You came? I told you I wouldn’t be up here.”
Wrapping his arm around my waist, he led me away from the rest of the family. His hazel stare met mine. “I was hoping you’d come up during the game.”
“Drew Pratt invited me to the sidelines.” The earlier excitement returned.
“It was amazing. I’d never really watched my ops teams in action, not from that close.
And the energy in the air was palpable. It was as if there was electricity.
And having an earpiece was so different than during practices.
I’m getting better at the plays, but everything is faster during a game—like practice on steroids. ”
Preston’s expression was filled with questions.
“Vee,” Dad said, coming up behind me. “Have you heard about Troy?”
My expression morphed. “No. How is he?”
“Has a concussion. They’re doing more scans. The doctors are also concerned with a sprained neck.”
“Injured reserve?” I asked.
Dad shook his head. “Not yet. We have to make a decision by tomorrow.”
If Dennison was placed on the IR, he would be out of at least four games. “Maybe we should think about calling Simpson back.”
“He’s on New Orleans’s practice team.”
“Vee,” Uncle Darin said, “we’ve talked about it. We know what we’re doing.”
“Simpson knows the calls,” I said. I turned to Dad. “You wanted me to learn more about football operations. I’ve spent the last two weeks with the offense.”
“And now,” Grant said, walking up to us, “she’s an expert.”
My attention was on my dad. “I’m not an expert. I’m practical. If Dennison goes on injured reserve, there’s no one to back Fin. We need a backup.”
“You were on the sidelines?” Grant asked, swirling what looked like whiskey in his tumbler. “You’re carrying this a little too far, don’t you think?”
“Drew asked if I wanted to be there. I said yes.”
“For publicity’s sake, I hope it was a one and done.”
“I don’t know,” Dad interjected. “Vee, if being close to the action was something you enjoyed—did you enjoy it?”
I let out a long sigh. “It was incredible.”
Dad turned to Grant. “You’ve always had that option. Just because you didn’t take advantage of the experience doesn’t mean Vee should pass it up.” He reached for my arm. “Observing. No micromanaging. No play calling.”
I laughed. “I’m definitely not calling plays.
” I started to comment about the play where Fin was supposed to have one of his backs run for short yardage, but instead he threw to Patel for a first down and then some, but I doubted anyone up in the suite was aware of the change. After all, Fin’s play worked.
“I don’t see any harm in Vee standing field side.”
Preston joined the discussion. “Does that mean you’ll be traveling with the team to Denver next week?”
“Not with the team,” I said. “But yes, I’ll travel to Denver.” I turned to Dad. “Are you going?”
“Yes. You can fly with Daphne and me.”
Daphne, yay.
I looked at Preston. “You’re welcome to come along. Just know that during the game, I’ll be on the sidelines.”
“I’ll have to think about that invitation.” He tilted his head toward the bar. “How about a drink? Have you eaten?”
“Not since early this morning.” I looked at what remained of the food on the buffet and wrinkled my nose. “One cosmo for tradition’s sake.”
Once the red cocktail was in front of me, Preston spoke softly, “How about we go back to my place. It’s a beautiful day. I’ll grill chicken and corn. We can relax. You’ve been working too hard lately, studying plays every night. You deserve a night off.”
Lifting my glass, I took a sip and opened my eyes wide. “Strong.”
“Then I’ll drive.”
I met Preston’s stare. “That sounds inviting.”
His neck straightened. “You’re going to decline.”
Looking around, I scanned the remaining family and lowered my voice. “Dad wants me to understand the football side of the Coopers better. I’m also juggling all my regular work. Depending on when Dad and Daphne want to fly to Denver, I’m probably looking at a shortened workweek.”
He clenched his jaw. “I thought if I came here today, you’d realize we’ve hardly spent any time together in weeks.”
“It hasn’t been that long.”
“I promised you a date after returning from Bowling Green.”
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “No, I’m not.”
“What?”
“I’m not going to your place, and you’re not coming to mine. Why can’t you be happy for me?”
“Happy that you’re working yourself sick?” Preston questioned.
“This extra work doesn’t feel like work. I tried to tell you how exhilarating it was to be down on the sideline. You didn’t say a word.”
“I didn’t have a chance. Reid joined the conversation.”
Turning, I met his gaze and squared my shoulders. “Here’s your chance.”
“For what?”
“To reply to what I told you earlier.”
Preston ran his hand over his hair. “Fuck, I don’t remember.” His nostrils flared. “I’m glad you’re excited and exhilarated. I wish you felt that way about me.”
One more sip.
Forgetting that, I tipped the glass back, swallowing the remaining cocktail, and set it on the bar. “You know what?” I stared into the hazel of his eyes, seeing the golden flecks that used to intrigue me. “I wish I did too.”
“What the fuck are you saying?” he growled near my ear.
“I’m saying, thanks, Preston, for finally making it clear. Right now, I need some space to learn what’s involved with the Coopers—the whole franchise—things that I’ve previously overlooked.”
“Fucking breaking up with me in the goddamned family suite?”
“Would it have been better to wait until we were at your place?”
Preston reached for my hand. “At least there I could try to convince you otherwise.”
I shook my head. “I’m beyond convincing.” I called the bartender. “One more cosmo, please.”
Preston looked from side to side and stepped away from the barstool. “Call me if you decide you have time in your life for me.”
I didn’t reply; instead, I stared up at the TV screen. Thankfully, the closed captioning was on. The reporter was showing the hit on Dennison. Seeing it again made me squirm. The broadcast team at the table were discussing his injury and predictions on his possible return.
“Oh shit,” Lip said, taking the seat Preston had just left as my new drink arrived.
I turned, meeting his expression. “Shit what?” I questioned as I blinked away unexpected tears.
Lip put his arm around me.
I laid my head on his shoulder.
“He wasn’t good enough for you.”
Looking up, I grinned. “He’s thoroughbred royalty.”
Lip moved his arm. “Oh, that’s right. I’m sure the Clarks and Preston himself thought he was too good, but he wasn’t.” Lip wrinkled his nose. “The man was a little too cocky with nothing to show for it but Daddy’s money.” Lip lifted his chin.
I followed his line of vision to see Fin, showered and sitting at the press briefing.
“Now, Fin may be cocky,” Lip said, “but from what I’ve seen, he’s riding on his own talent, not old money.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s been a bit, but do you remember just how cocky he is?”
Shaking my head, I closed my eyes as warmth filled my cheeks. “Fourteen years is a long time.” That didn’t mean I didn’t remember. It meant I didn’t want to discuss it.
“I’d guess the size hasn’t changed,” Lip said softly, “but the art of delivery has no doubt improved with practice.”
Staring up at the TV, I noticed a bruise blooming on Fin’s left cheek and a small bandage on his forehead. “I don’t know.”
“He came here to the Coopers knowing you were part of the franchise.”
“He also left me. He never called when he said he would. I even reached out.”
“How many times?” Lip asked.
I shrugged and swallowed. “A few. Each time was more humiliating than the last.”
“Ask him.”
Lifting my hands, I rubbed my temples. A dull thumping was growing louder. “I should go home.”
“I’ll drive you.”
The staff was cleaning and taking down the buffet. “I’ll grab a dry chicken sandwich. That should soak up the vodka.”
“Chris and I are meeting downtown for dinner tonight. Why don’t you join us?”
I stood from the barstool and feigned a smile. “Thanks. I don’t want to be a third wheel.”
“You wouldn’t be. Besides, you’re my favorite cousin.”
It was something I’d said to Grant.
“I’m your only cousin.” There were now fewer people in the suite. “Why don’t you invite him here for games?”
“Yeah, I’m not ready for that.”
“When you are, I’ll be here for you.”
Lip tilted his head. “You better be on the sideline. I saw how excited you were when you entered the suite. Keep that enthusiasm going.” He stood. “Are you okay?”
“Two-year itch. It needed to be scratched.”
“More like a crusty scab on your ass.” My cousin grinned. “And now it’s gone.”
Leaning closer, I gave Lip a hug. “Thank you.”
“Leigh will be thrilled,” he whispered.
One more look up at the TV. Fin was gone. The Titans’ coach was seated, discussing Pickard’s suspension.