* * *
I shook my head. The weight of the day’s meetings pressed on my shoulders. I hadn’t heard his message. Going to my voicemail box, I listened.
“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 injury 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 let out a sigh and went to my computer. Scrolling, I found the email from the training facility with our current injury report.
Griffin Graham, QB – questionable. Rib fracture.
Xavien Martin, DE – doubtful. Knee, MCL sprain.
Eric Rhodes, DE – limited participant. High ankle sprain.
Corden Young, OT – out. Meniscus tear.
Ramel Patel, WR, - questionable. Knee, PCL sprain.
A questionable rating meant that Fin and Patel had a fifty-fifty chance of playing in the Titans game. We had nearly two weeks for their recovery. Our offensive tackle, Young, would be missed. I scribbled a note to talk to Drew about the position on Wednesday. Also, our defensive end, Martin. Hopefully, Brown will look into Pickett from the practice squad.
Leaning back, I thought about my decision for CEO. It felt right for where the Coopers were. Standing, I gathered my things to head home; simultaneously, an echo of a knock resonated through my office.
“Hello,” I called.
Bre Stanton pushed the door open. “Vee, can I talk to you?”
Chapter 32
Fin
I stopped by my apartment on the way to Vee’s to grab my suit for tomorrow. On my way to Vee’s place, I made a quick stop at the supermarket. While I craved a thick porterhouse steak, my thoughts went vegetarian. Vee needed comfort food to get her through tomorrow. I found a recipe for creamy cashew tomato pasta. With the ingredients secure, I headed across town.
Ethan told me the main level of the Vine was almost normal. The reporters must have given up. Vee had the support of her neighbors. No one would give a reporter so much as a quote about the Coopers’ heiress.
After hanging my suit in Vee’s closet, I changed my button-down shirt for a Coopers t-shirt, kicked off my loafers, and started my culinary creation. If the beginning of a game reminded me of my dad, cooking brought back memories of my mom. She was never into gourmet recipes. Mom was a meat-and-potato or pasta cook, perfect for two growing football players. I can’t remember her ever measuring an ingredient. “You just know,” she would say.
When I was first signed to Atlanta, I shared an apartment for a brief time. My roommate was a newly signed running back who also enjoyed cooking. I suppose to anyone watching us play the game, they’d be surprised that brawny big men can also cook.
Back then, I’d call Mom for recipes, and she’d say something like, season the chicken and sauté. If I asked what seasonings, she’d laugh and tell me to use what I liked. I was working on the sauce for tonight’s dinner when my phone vibrated on the counter. As if I’d willed her call, my screen read Mom.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, answering.
“Fin, I keep worrying about Vee. Is she okay?”
“The best she can be, considering.”
“You know your dad and I are so happy you two found your way back together. It just seems this is a rough time.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “It is. I’m glad she’s not alone.”
“Did you know she was dating one of the Clarks, you know from Meadow Farms.”
“Mom,” I said with a grin, “are you spreading Bowling Green gossip?”
“No. Um, I wondered if you knew.”
“I did. They’re no longer together if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not. I’m concerned about Vee. I’ve been reading the sports news. Some of the prognosticators are downright mean about Vee taking charge of the Coopers. They’re ruthless.”
