Chapter 29
Vee
A few hours earlier
The sky was still dark as I made my way to Maker’s Mark.
The bright side was it must have also been too early for the reporters.
I made it onto the grounds with nothing more than a wave.
I’d just sat down at my desk when there was a knock on my office door.
Being also too early for Jen or anyone else to be in the outer office, I anticipated my visitor and called out, “Come in.”
Don Tilson arrived with two paper cups of coffee in hand. “You’re here.” He’d never been one for pleasantries.
“I am.” I stood and took a cup. “Don, let’s sit over here.” I motioned to the comfortable chairs and sofa near the windows. “Tell me. How long do these meetings typically last?” I sat in a singular chair and crossed my ankles beneath my chair.
Don Tilson sat in another singular chair, sitting forward with his legs spread. We were separated by a small table holding a green silk plant that looked remarkably real. Beyond the windowpanes a rosy hue began to crack in the eastern horizon, signs that the day was beginning.
Don replied, “That depends on how upset or happy Reid was.”
Nodding my head, I removed the coffee lid. Seeing the black coffee, I blew on the contents. “I was wondering, was it all about Dad’s thoughts or did you provide your own?”
“It went both ways.”
I straightened my neck and shoulders and took the bull by the horns. “What did you think of yesterday’s play?”
“We won.”
Putting the coffee on the small table to cool, I nodded. “We did. Any concerns?”
Tilson sat back, crossing his ankle over his other knee. “The Coopers need to keep improving. Dennison is back to full pads. Although with the bye and tomorrow’s service, he won’t get back into the action until Saturday.”
“No doubt you’ll get him in game-day shape.”
“How do you feel about Graham going back to second place?”
“Don, are you asking me that as the owner of the Coopers or as someone who knows Griffin Graham well?”
He wrinkled his brow. “Both, if I’m being honest.”
“If you were honest with my father, I expect no less now.”
“You’re okay with the demotion?”
I shrugged. “I don’t see it as a demotion.
If Mr. Graham does, then he wasn’t paying attention.
And to the contrary, I believe he has been paying attention.
He was signed as a possible third string.
His performance, and nothing else, resulted in his contract renegotiation.
Troy Dennison’s injury thrust Graham into the first-place position.
It’s my opinion that while he did exceptionally well in that role, Troy Dennison is our star player.
First-round pick. I can’t imagine a man with as much time in the league as Graham would have any difficulty understanding the way a roster works.
First and foremost, Dennison is the Coopers’ quarterback. ”
Tilson took a drink of his coffee.
“I’ve reviewed tape from yesterday,” he said. “The two Raiders’ penalty calls against Graham and Patel weren’t the only dirty plays. The majority went uncalled.”
“Do you have the video evidence?”
He nodded. “We have a list of names headed to the training center to be checked out. The Raiders’ defense was brutal.”
I remembered the dark purple bruise on Fin’s chest. “Who are you sending to be checked out?”
“I can send you a list.”
“Graham?” I was almost afraid to ask. “He was checked out in the tent.”
Tilson lowered his foot to the floor and sat forward. “It isn’t always protocol to double-check injuries. Is there a reason you’re concerned?”
“I’m concerned with all our players. Graham and Patel took violent hits.
I believe they should be reexamined. So should anyone involved with the plays you have marked on video.
Show your concerns to Beasley, Darin Marsh, Drew, and Darius.
If they agree, we’ll draft a formal review request with the league. ”
“You don’t want to see the film?”
I inhaled. “Something my father emphasized was the importance of a skilled staff, people he not only trusted but knew could carry the mantle when needed. Your position on the executive staff is needed, Don. Dad trusted you. I will too unless you give me a reason not to. Consult with others in football operations. Send me the names, plays, and film clips of what you and the others unanimously believe deserve review.”
Don started to speak, but I jumped in. “Speaking of defense. Malik Johnson and Tyler Wood were on fire, each with a sack. I’m sure you know Williams averages four sacks a season. Yesterday, he was sacked twice in one day.”
“Unfortunately, Xavien Martin, our—”
“Defensive end,” I interjected.
“Yeah.” He looked surprised. “Well, he’s being evaluated for a knee injury.”
“Do you think he’ll be out long?”
“It depends. That’s up to the docs.”
I remembered the practice Fin came home sore from. “I watched an offense practice against our practice defense squad last week. There’s a player, Marcel Pickett.” I nodded. “He’s fast and I’ve heard smart. Darius should look at him. We’ll move him up if necessary.”
“Our starting roster is full.”
I nodded. “We’ll see after the IR comes out. Pickett was impressive.”
Don’s eyebrows arched. “I’ll make a note about him. Last week you were concerned with conservative play calling,” Don said. “What are your thoughts on this week?”
“Not as concerned. Our offense kept the run and pass plays going. The quarterback sneak in the fourth quarter was shocking. Visually, I followed Bennett into the pile. I didn’t even notice that Graham ran the ball into the end zone until the touchdown was called.”
“You mentioned Tyler Wood,” Don said. “What were your thoughts on that play?”
I felt as if I were taking a test. If that was the case, I was damn well going to pass.
“You’re talking about during the fourth quarter, putting Wood in as nickelback.
Brilliant. That extra push gave the defense the power for a 5-man rush.
Better yet, the play worked. It showed our strength on defense. I think it was a good play call.”
Tilson shared one of his rare smiles. “You watch the game—really watch.”
“I’m going to continue to do so from the sideline. When I’m there, the game is all-encompassing. There are too many distractions in the suite. After home games, I try to rewatch it on television. I want to hear what the announcers are saying.”
He chuckled. “Mostly talking shit.”
“I appreciate other perspectives.”
“Vee, I’m being honest. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about the Coopers’ future if you take over.”
The small hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. “I am the owner, Don. There’s no if.”
Don pressed his lips together and nodded. “I wasn’t finished.” He bobbed his head. “May I?”
“Please, go on.”
“Young lady…”
I saw red while at the same time I was doing my best to keep my resting-bitch face at bay.
He continued, “I believe you could prove me and others wrong. Your daddy thought you could hang the moon and the stars.” His rare smile returned. “For now, I’m going to trust Reid’s decision, and I’ll talk to others about doing the same.”
Relief came in a wave, releasing my growing resentment of the unbridled misogyny that abounded within this organization. While I passed this test, I had no illusion that Don Tilson, Royce Beasley, or even Uncle Darin would ever fully believe in me.
I’d take this as one battle won.
The war had yet to fully begin.
Smiling a closed-lip smile, I stood. “Don, thank you for this meeting.” I offered him my hand and we shook.
“Please get those tapes and names to me before noon. I’d like to move fast on approaching the league for official reviews.
Also, I need the names on our current injury report before they go to the press. And I’ll see you next Monday morning?”
“We have a bye.”
“I’m sure we can find things to chat about. I’ll bring the coffee.”
“I’ll be here, Ms. Hubbard.”
“Vee is acceptable. Have a nice day.”
I waited until Don was gone and the door shut before letting out a long breath. The meeting had been a small victory, hopefully enough to sustain me through this morning’s executive meeting.
Taking Don’s black coffee into my attached bathroom, I wrinkled my nose, poured it down the sink, and went to the front office.
“Good morning?” Jen said. “I was surprised to see Coach Tilson leave. I didn’t know you were in yet.” She looked at her watch. “It’s early.”
“It is. For the next twelve weeks I have a standing meeting with Coach Tilson every Monday morning at seven.” I looked around, smelling a delicious brew. “You haven’t by chance started making coffee, have you?”
Jen smiled. “Coming right up.”
“I’ll be happy to get it myself.” I walked toward the decadent aroma and poured a cup, complete with cream from the refrigerator.
I stopped at Jen’s desk with my fingers wrapped around the warm mug.
“Would you please make a call to Rachel Marsh’s assistant and ask if Rachel can come speak to me once she’s in. I’d like to talk before the meeting.”
“Right away.”
Carrying my coffee back to my office, I set it on the desk.
Next to my landline phone was a manilla folder I didn’t remember seeing before and hadn’t noticed earlier.
Opening it, I found lists of names, phone numbers, and email addresses.
These included the NFL commissioner and other NFL owners.
My forehead wrinkled as I carried it out to Jen.
“Where did this folder come from?”
“Bre Stanton brought it to you late Friday. You were gone.”
“Did she tell you anything about it?”
Jen shook her head. “She said it was for you and asked if she could put it on your desk.”
“She didn’t give it to you?” A strange sense of violation sent goose bumps scattering over my flesh.
Jen’s expression turned puzzled. “Vee, I told her it was okay to set that on your desk. She’s brought other things down from your father’s office. I’m sorry. Is that now a problem?”
My mind was filled with pictures and notes, her ransacking Dad’s office. “It’s that…I’d rather no one but you enter my office when I’m away.”
“Okay? When someone wants to meet with you, they should wait out here?”
This was stupid.
What am I paranoid about?
There probably wasn’t an extensive list of people in Maker’s Mark who my father screwed.
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. Nothing’s wrong. Did you call for Aunt Rachel?”
“Yes. As soon as she arrives, Millie will let her know.”