Changing out of my work clothes, I donned soft pajama pants and a tank top when my phone rang. Leigh’s name was on the screen.
“Hi,” I answered.
“Hayden, Lip, and I are going to get dinner downstairs. Would you like to come along?”
I looked down at my change of clothes and smiled. “You are about ten minutes too late. I’m in comfy clothes and in for the night.”
“Okay. We’ll miss you.”
“Thanks, Leigh.”
“Vee, we’re worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I’m not great with time change. I’ll be good, I promise.”
“All right. See you tomorrow?”
“On the plane home,” I said, “if not before.”
“Go Coopers.”
“Go Coopers,” I repeated.
Over three hours later, the remains of my dinner were on the dining table while I was curled up on the sofa with Bre’s notes. She’d copied more of Dad’s schedules. I was currently looking at the week before he died.
Among many other things listed, he had a call with an NFL International Office. He also had a meeting with Lexington city officials and a call with a representative from Under Armour. “What did you talk about?” I asked aloud.
I made a note to ask Bre for more information. There should be notes after each meeting. Knowing that Dad spoke to certain people wasn’t helpful if I didn’t know what was discussed.
I laid the papers on the coffee table. The small bottle of wine that came with my dinner was empty, replaced with a bottle of Evian. While it wasn’t even ten o’clock, my eyes were tired and my temples throbbed.
My phone vibrated on the table beside me. A smile curled my lips at the sight of Fin’s name. “You should be sleeping,” I said as I answered the call. “You have a big game tomorrow.”
“What’s your room number?”
I sat forward. “Oh my God, Fin. You’re not coming to my room.”
“How much Fin’s-in-control time have you had today?”
Shaking my head, I scoffed. “Not near enough. I’m headed to bed.”
“I don’t have much time until curfew, but I promise I can take some of that stress out of your voice. You just need to give me your room number.”
“You can’t hear my stress.”
“I can,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “Don’t make me ask again.”
My nipples beaded at his deepening tone. “Promise me you won’t be seen and photographed.”
“I’ll do my best.”
With much reservation, I told him the number of my suite.
“You’re closer than I thought. See you soon.”
After disconnecting the call, I whispered, “This is a bad idea.”
Bad idea or not, I hurried to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and splashed my already-washed face with water. I was brushing my hair when I heard the knock on the door. A quick peek out the peephole showed me a tall man with a Cincinnati baseball cap over his eyes.
