But here we are.
And honestly? I couldn’t be happier. I guess sometimes when we just let life happen rather than fighting against it, we end up exactly where we’re supposed to be…even when it’s not where wethoughtwe’d be.
I thought my future would plant me in Chicago with a lawyer.
Instead, I’m in Vegas with the football superstar who just walked into the conference room where I’m working. He walks to me first and presses a soft kiss to my lips, and then he walks over to Bruno to scratch her under her chin.
“The DA called while I was at practice,” he says softly.
My breath catches in my throat. “Oh. And?”
“I couldn’t pick up, but I need to call back tonight. What do you want me to do?” he asks.
“I want you to name my father. It might help protect my brother.”
“Archer?” he asks, and I nod. I filled him in on what I know, which isn’t much. But I have a feeling with an investigation underway, we’ll find out more sooner than later. “Should I call now?”
“Sure.”
He draws in a breath and dials the number. “You sure?” he asks me before anyone picks up, and I nod.
“Protect yourself,” I say softly. I reach over and take his hand in mine. “Protectus.”
He nods, and I hear the district attorney’s assistant pick up the call. Maverick is transferred, and the DA starts with a few basic questions about what was happening the night of the raid. And then he asks the question we’ve been waiting for. “Do you have any information regarding who was operating the casinos?”
Maverick clears his throat, and his eyes are on me when he says, “I believe it’s Thomas Bradley.”
I let out a breath of what feels like relief. I’m angry with my father for putting Maverick and my brother in this position, and I want him to pay for what he’s done. It might be hard on my family, but he shouldn’t have been committing crimes if that was what he was truly worried about.
“Do you have proof?” the DA asks.
Maverick looks a little helpless. “No. I don’t. I interacted with him several times at the lounge, and I saw him in the backroom. All I have is my word.”
“Thank you for your time. We’ll be in touch if we have additional questions, and you’ll likely be subpoenaed if this case goes to court.”
“That’s it?” Maverick asks, surprised.
“That’s it.” The DA cuts the call, and he stares at his phone in disbelief for a few beats.
He glances up at me. “That’s it, I guess. For now.”
“Good. I hope it is.” That might be it for him, but that likelywon’tbe it for my father and also possibly my brother.
He clears his throat, and then he goes for a total change of subject. “How many teammates am I seeing tonight?”
“We have three on the agenda,” I say.
Coach Nash talked up this peer mentorship program, and players were absolutelyscramblingat the chance for one-on-one time with their very own quarterback. This isn’t just an opportunity for Maverick to empathize with other players. It’s a chance for real, actual team bonding. He’s giving some of himself to the men he plays with, and they’re giving part of themselves back to him. It’s an even exchange, and I’ve seen more than one of these big, macho football player dudes walk out of his office fraught with emotion.
It's an absolutely beautiful thing to witness.
“Who’s up first?” he asks as he slides into the chair across from me when he’s done with practice before his peer meetings begin for the evening.
I scrunch up my nose. “Dex Bradley.”
He raises his brows in surprise, and good God, what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall in that room.
Maverick’s pretty damn good at keeping secrets, though, and I think he’s gaining strength in allowing himself to be a sounding board for some of his teammates. He doesn’t tell me a word about what goes on in that office, and it’s not my business, anyway.
