“I hope so.”
She smiles bigger now. “Any questions for me?”
“Why did you leave?” I ask.
“Going back to finish up my MD, closer to my family.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m quickly remembering why I left.”
“Any regrets?” I ask.
“I miss the City, and the team. But I had a goal and needed to do that for myself. You have to remember to put yourself somewhere in the top twenty.”
“You know my backstory, or at least part of it. Any concerns?”
She giggles silently, “Did you really agree to become Bitty Costello and her friends’ therapist?”
I laugh, “I’ve heard I did.”
“Hold firm on the team being first. I’m sure when you were hired, you were told it was very flexible.” I nod, and she shakes her head. “The things they don’t know because of privacy laws? You will get phone calls when your players are in crisis. They told you travel is not required, right?” She asks, and I nod. “You will emotionally travel every game with them. There may be times when you’ll want to travel to physically. Last year I traveled to every away game during the holidays, and then while heading into the playoffs. Our whole team, medical and performance staff, decided it was best for the team.”
Worry settles in.
“Jo? Who works in the childcare center?” I nod. “She loves to travel. If it’s a weekend, holiday, or even after hours, utilize her. She’s solid. So is her best friend, who used to work with them, but started her own business, Elite Childcare.”
“Do you have children?” I ask.
“I missed my window.” She says solemnly.
I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t. Appreciation shows in her eyes.
“One last thing before you onboard with the medical and performance team?” I nod. “Off the record?” Again, I nod. “The contracted psychiatrist is a pile of shit. She runs a business that oversees professional teams like the Bears, collects huge annual contracts, and Zooms in on meetings to pretend she’s actually earning the amount of money they pay her. None of my players, except one,” she shakes her head, “I mean, your players, agree to allow it anymore. She loves to talk down to them and tries to put them on meds they don’t need or don’t work for them, which she’d know if she listened. Dr. Timmins, the team’s MD, is more than capable of writing a script if needed. I’m going to finish my degree just to put her out of business.”
I shake my head. “That should be criminal.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Please keep that to yourself.”
TWENTY-THREE
Chapter Twenty- Two
Deacon
The steam followsme out of the bathroom like it is trying to remind me I should have stayed in there longer. I am dripping, towel low, hair pushed back like I am pretending I am fine even though the last thirty seconds in the shower were off.
I step into the hotel suite and stop when I see someone sitting on the couch.
Not a teammate. Not a trainer. Not a coach. Dean Costello, the owner of the Brooklyn Bears.
His arms are stretched across the back of the couch, perfectly calm, like this is totally normal.
“You good?” he asks in a voice that tells me he already knows the answer.
I blink twice. “Uh. Thought I was. But you being in my suite makes me question that. What is up?”
He finally turns his head toward me, eyes sharp and steady. “Coach D checked in with me after this morning’s practice. Shementioned there might be some lingering issues from the hit. She did not say it out loud, but she is concerned, the trainers are concerned, and when my people are concerned, I check for myself.”
I scrub my hand over my face. “I was cleared, thought I was fine.”
Costello motions at me with one hand. “Give it to me, tell me what is going on.”
