I walk back into the bedroom and notice G-E-O-F-F. Oh shit, I’m not dealing with morning-after nonsense. I grab all of Geoff’s clothes from the ground and throw them at him. He startles awake and gives me a sleepy smile as his eyes take in my naked body. “Come back to bed, baby. Let’s go for another round.”
Baby? We just met. I’m adding that to the list of red flags I keep on my phone. Men who call youbabyjust after you meet…or ever. Gross.
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m not your baby, and I have abusy day. I’m getting in the shower. Don’t be here when I get out. Lose my number while you’re at it.”
I arriveat the address Reagan gave me just before nine. I didn’t show up extra early like she asked. I’m not in the mood for a lecture, and this bitch needs to know she can’t boss me around. She should be happy I showed up at all.
The hostess escorts me to a private room in the back, where I get my first glimpse of my future teammates, all sitting around a table. First, I notice Shay Walker. She’s a veteran forward from the team out of LA and is very good. I can’t believe they didn’t protect her. That’s odd. She’s tall, with dark skin and eyes. We’ve thrown a couple of elbows at each other throughout the years, but I’m not unhappy to see her here. She’s a good addition to the team. Ironically, her girlfriend went to the same college as me. I don’t know her well, but I’ve met her a few times and never had a problem with her.
Next, I notice Layla Ladrón. She’s been in the league a little longer than me. She played for the team out of Miami. I know she recently had a baby and is married to a football player from Philly. I suppose it makes sense that she’d be willing to move there.
My eyes then find Palmer Payne. She’s new to the league. I don’t know much about her, but I watched the draft today and knew she was selected by the Beavers in the second round. She’s a curvy, extremely tall center with mousy, frizzy brown hair. She wears goggles—fucking goggles—when she plays. Who does that?
She’s wearing regular glasses now, and I can see her eyes better. They’re unique. Almost purple. If I were her, I wouldn’t cover those eyes. They’re her best attribute.
Reagan stands, looking irritated, but musters a fake smilewhile holding out her hand. “How kind of you to join us,” she says with a bit of an edge. “I’m Reagan Daulton. You can call me Reagan.”
She’s extremely attractive—like model attractive—with blonde hair and blue eyes. I can’t imagine she’s more than thirty-five. Wow. She’s tall by conventional standards, but not around this genetically gifted group of women. She’s wearing a pink power suit. Her wavy hair and makeup are perfect. She exudes wealth and sophistication.
I shake her hand in return as I try to size her up. “Sorry I’m late.” I give an over-exaggerated smile. “I wassuperbusy restarting the dryer so I don’t have to fold my clean clothes.”
Her lip twitches with amusement, and she nods. “It’s safe to say we all do that at times.”
We sit, and Reagan begins. “Ladies, I’m thrilled that we got the opportunity to sign all of you to our team. With this group of talent, I know we’ll be competitive in the league from day one. I’ll get into this more when Sulley arrives, which should be in a few minutes, but I want to say something before she gets here. Sulley is from a small town. She’s suffered some real trauma in her life. I know she garners a lot of media attention, but she doesn’t ask for it.”
I scoff. “The hell she doesn’t.”
Reagan turns to me. “She doesn’t. When you meet her, you’ll see her for the humble woman she is. You can’t find one soundbite where she comes off as arrogant because she’s not. I wouldn’t have drafted her if I thought she was going to be problematic.”
“You picked up Kennedy’s contract,” Shay mumbles.
I snap my head at her. “Screw you, wannabe celesbian.”
Reagan holds up her hands. “Ladies, enough. Everyone is getting a fresh start.” She stares at me. “Some are on shorter leashes than others, but everyone has a chance to start anew. I’m asking you all to come into this with an open mind.” She pauses briefly as she steeples her fingers. “I have two sisters, one olderand one younger. Between them, my mother, and my aunt, I’ve been surrounded by strong women my whole life. Having a girl tribe you can count on makes each individual stronger. You all have two options. Go at it alone or become a tribe. I personally suggest you spend some time together. Try becoming friends. After I introduce Sulley, I’m going to leave, but my tab will remain open. Order drinks. Hang out. Talk. Throw out all preconceived notions and simply get to know each other.”
Before she can continue, Queen Sullivan O’Shea walks into the room. I expected a cocky demeanor, but she looks like a deer in headlights. She’s outwardly nervous and dressed like she hit up the clearance rack at Walmart.
She waves a shaky hand and mutters, “Hel…hello everyone,” as she cautiously takes in the various faces in the room.
Reagan introduces the group to her. Sulley appears wide-eyed. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was starstruck by the group in here.
After Reagan runs through a few things, she leaves, again encouraging us all to stay and enjoy food and drinks on her.
I turn to Sulley. “Well, Queen Sullivan O’Shea. We were all dragged here kicking and screaming to roll out the red carpet for you. I imagine we’ll be doing that all season. How lucky for us. What is it that the queen would like to talk about?”
Sulley physically deflates at my snarkiness. I thought she’d have a stronger constitution.
We make idle chitchat for a bit. Sulley keeps telling me over and over that her friends call her Sulley, so I call her Sullivan for the rest of the night just to piss her off and let her know we’re not friends and never will be.
The next dayI’m home, reluctantly packing up my apartment, when my doorbell and phone ring simultaneously. Iglance at my phone. It’s my mother. She and my father have been blowing up my phone since the news of me coming to Philly broke. Fuck me, they’re going to be all up in my business now that I’ll be living in the same town as them. I don’t have the energy to deal with them. I’m still managing my emotions over this move.
I walk over to my door and open it to see Reagan standing there in a different designer power suit. I’d love to see her closet one day. It’s probably like a scene out of a movie with rows and rows of high-end clothes. It probably rotates on a smart wheel as she decides what to wear each morning.
She looks pissed, and without waiting to be invited inside, she stomps past me. “Please come in,” I say sarcastically while I close the door and follow her as she marches into my living room with clear intent.
With a tight jaw, she points to my sofa and commands, “Sit. Now.”
I give her an exaggerated fake smile. “Thank you for inviting me to sit down in my own home. Do you want to make me a pot of coffee while you’re at it? Maybe an espresso? Easy on the foam, please.”
