“We’re not aware of any rumors. We’re focused on a healthy team, finishing the season strong, and making Buffalo proud,” he says, scanning the room. “This team already makes me proud, and I’ll continue to show up for them the way they show up for each other. If there aren’t any more questions about today’s game, let’s get these guys home.”
Coach Washington motions for us to leave.
“Did you hear anything about a move?” Kendrick asks through a practiced smile I return.
“Nope, but that might explain why the prick hasn’t come to a single game.”
In the grand scheme of things, moving to Toronto wouldn’t be the worst news. At least we’d still have a team. I could figure out how to stay in Buffalo and make it to practice. Toronto traffic is a bitch, but it’s better than being traded to another team on the other side of the country.
I lock eyes with Julian and nod at Kendrick. “See you back at the house.”
“Thanks for coming, bro.” I hug my best friend. “Is that Jackson on the phone? What’s up, big man?”
“Hey, Uncle Ant,” Jackson says. His low fade matches his stepdad’s. “Good game.”
“Thanks. One day, we’ll be watching yours.”
That gets a smile. “Maybe my dad can buy a team. We’re good for it.”
“Aye, you don’t know what’s in my pockets,” Julian laughs.
Jackson’s face turns serious. “Will you make it home in time for my game tomorrow?”
Julian’s voice softens. “I’m on my way to the airport now. I’ll be home before you go to bed, son. I’ll see you soon, okay? Love you.” He ends the call and rolls his eyes. “Don’t start.”
“You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.”
“Dumbass. Keep me updated with your team. My son might need one when it’s time.”
“Make it happen.” Having my best friend own the team would be better than Mancini. “Thanks for coming over from New York City. Safe travels. Love to the family.”
The room clears, leaving Buffalo Steel banners, empty chairs, and her.
“Hey, superstar.” Miriam’s quiet laughter floats across the distance I cut in three strides. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, baby.” I kiss her once, twice, and pull her to my chest. The halo of her rose oil floats up to my nostrils. “I’m happy you came,” I tell her with my chin on her head.
“Me too.”
“Marcela bullied you into staying?”
“Pretty much—but!” Her dimples squeeze her cheeks. “I am proud of you, Antonio,” she says, her voice soft and gaze steady. “I’d pass out in front of those cameras, but you’re in your element. It’s remarkable to experience up close.”
“That means more than you know, Doe.”
Her lips part, drawing my mouth to hers.
“You’re still here!” Reese rushes in with caffeinated energy levels and a deep frown. “I took care of Aaron. That jerk is always fishing for a story, and he’ll fabricate one to make his stupid podcast relevant. I blocked him on Match Meet. It’s not surprising he acted a whole fool with that question about Toronto.
“Who knows where he got that conspiracy theory. It’s rare to hear from Mancini, but what else is new? We’re fine! I’ll release a press statement if it comes to it. You have a meeting on your calendar with a furniture company who’s interested in hiring you for a commercial. Legal is taking a look. Do you think you can squeeze in a quick school appearance before Monday’s—Oh, hi!”
Reese peels her eyes away from the tablet in front of her face. Walking while scheduling is her superpower. She sure as hell doesn’t watch where she’s going.
“I didn’t realize you had company.” Her cheeks pink to match her blouse. It’s tucked into light pink pants with polka dots and silk fabric patches. No doubt a Gordon Gartrelle original.
“All good, Reese. This is Miriam,” I say. “Doe, this is Reese, the team’s media manager.”
“It’s nice—”
