My thoughts went to Vee. “Has the injury report gone out yet?”
“The coaches and executives have it. They won’t release it to the press until later this afternoon.”
Shit.
I needed to get ahold of Vee.
“Thank you, Lacy. I’ll do everything you say. Should I wrap it?”
“Not now. That may be in our plans for when you’re ready to start practicing.”
“Anything else?” I asked, standing.
Lacy stood with me. “The CT scan was to check your sternum and organs. You have a nasty contusion on your chest. The images came back inconclusive.” She lifted her eyebrows. “That means nothing was detected. However, if you have any symptoms such as shortness of breath, increased chest pain, or pain of any kind that requires medications, come in. We’ll look again.”
Vee had too many things to worry about. She didn’t need to worry about me. That didn’t coincide with my Fin’s-in-control model. “Is all that on the injury report?”
She shook her head. “Only the hairline rib fracture.”
“Thank you.”
“Remember, you’re not indestructible.”
“Believe me, I know.” Quickly, I made my way to my locker. Pulling out my leather duffel bag, I searched for my phone.
Without thinking, I hit the call button next to Vee’s name. The call went to voicemail. Of course it did. She was busy. While I’m more of a text type of person, I left a voice message. “Hey, Vee. I just left the training center. Good news, I’m fine. Bad news, that SOB fractured one of my ribs, number nine. Trainers say my name is going out in this week’s report as questionable. Not sure if you’ve seen the report. Didn’t want you to worry. Fin’s-in-control is still the plan. See you tonight.” I hesitated and looked around. Fuck it. “I love you. See you tonight”
I disconnected the call.
Tomorrow was going to be rough. A fucking fractured rib wasn’t going to stop me from being there for Vee.
Chapter 31
Vee
Fin’s name lit up my cell phone on the conference table, but my attention was needed with the topics at hand. The executive board met this morning with little hostility. Apparently, that was because the other members were waiting for an afternoon ambush. With the exception of Royce Beasley, the same people who met earlier were now sitting around the large conference table in the executive office suite.
“Projections at the beginning of the regular season,” Uncle Darin said, “of Coopers’ value by the end of the current fiscal year included a twenty-five-percent increase. That percentage is the norm throughout the league, based on future earnings. That percentage has dropped and is continuing to drop since the news of Reid’s death.”
I had the spreadsheets on my laptop. “This devaluation is a prediction, not a guaranteed trajectory.” I met everyone’s gaze. “We’ve played one game since Dad’s passing. We won. I checked our ticket sales earlier this afternoon. There hasn’t been a decrease in sales or an influx of cancellations.”
“You don’t understand,” Darin said.
Gritting my teeth, I sat taller. Narrowing my eyes, I lowered my tone. “Explain it.”
Darin stood, pushing his chair away from the table, slapped his hands against his thighs, and spoke through clenched teeth. “Vee, you can learn this, but not in time to save this season or save us from the fallout.” His nostrils flared. “The CEO position needs to be filled. It needs to be held by someone who doesn’t require a remedial course in NFL franchises.”
I didn’t require a remedial course, but saying that was pointless. “What are our coaches saying about morale?”
Darin looked at Grant.
Grant took a deep breath. “The coaches are worried. So is Royce. He’s been the general manager since Grandpa Carroll was alive. He’s seen transitions and is genuinely concerned.”
I made a note to search for new general managers. “Go on. What about Tilson?”
Grant pressed his lips together. “Concerned, Vee. Everyone is.”
“I met with Don this morning.”
