“Yeah. Thanks.” I step out of the hug, still too humiliated to be consoled. “I’m fine. It was nothing. Clearly.”
Tenley looks like she’s going to challenge that statement but she doesn’t. She shoots me a sympathetic smile and offers, “You wanna come up to the main house and have dinner with me? I’m making veggie lasagna.”
I shake my head. “No I was hoping for alone time and a self-care day and now that my squatter is gone, I’m gonna do it.”
Tenley nods and heads towards the door. “Okay, well offer’s open all night. Or text me. Or whatever. I feel like… I should apologize for my relative.”
“No. Don’t. Honestly, it’s fine. I’m fine,” I assureher, hoping I sound more believable than Ross fromFriendseven though I don’t feel more confident in my words than him.
Tenley leaves and I stand there in my finally empty apartment. This is what I wanted, right? I walk into my living room drop onto my couch and lie there trying to wrap my brain around the last twenty-four hours.
Chapter 8
Conner
I’ve never seen my dad look genuinely disappointed before, and I didn’t even realize that until now. Because now, for the first time in my life, my dad is truly disappointed in me. And it feels way worse than I thought it would. I really shouldn’t have come home.
“I’m gonna head back to Brooklyn,” I announce when the silence in the kitchen is deafening. “I’m gonna have to pack up the loft and list it so I might as well start now.”
“Con, wait!” Dad says firmly. I stop walking around the massive kitchen island but I don’t turn back to face him. I can’t keep staring at that look on his face. “Can we talk about how you handled this? Why did you refuse to play? Why did you avoid me and go day drinking with Mac? None of that is going to fix this.”
"I never thought it would," I reply, still staring out at the great room attached to the kitchen instead of at him. "But that's the thing, Dad,nothingcan fix this.”
“A good fucking lawyer can fix this,” Callie says from where she is leaning against the counter by the stove. “What they did, how they did it, was a violation of the league’s policies. Yourunion should be all over this. That Landry asshole will be fined.”
“She’s not wrong,” Dad adds. “What did your union rep say?”
“I haven’t talked to them yet,” I grumble, and I don’t have to see his face to know I’ve disappointed him again because I can hear his sigh.
When I feel a hand on my shoulder, I know it's his. He turns me to face him. I avert my eyes. I look a lot like my dad, at least that's what everyone always tells me. His hair is lighter, especially now that there's gray at the temples and the blond has faded. But we have the same hazel eyes and dimple on our left cheek. His kind of disappeared as he aged, but mine is still deep. I’m taller than him but we, according to both my mother and Callie, have the exact same stubborn spirit. Now his mouth, also similar to mine with the full bottom lip and pronounced cupid’s bow on the top, is set in a grim line. “I wouldn’t have walked out with a game left to play. That will give them something to sue about.”
“I’m not you,” I reply. “And yeah you wouldn’t have because you wouldn’t have had to. No one would ever dream of waiving Devin Garrison.”
“Conner…” Whatever he was about to say gets cut off by the ring of my cellphone. I pull it from my back pocket.
“It’s Clark,” I say, and I don’t need to explain further. I turn my back to my dad again and answer my cell. “Hi.”
“Hey. How are you?” Clark asks, concern apparent in his voice.
“I’ve been better,” I admit and make my way out of the kitchen. As I turn the corner into the great room, I run directly into both my sisters. They were huddled up together against the wall by the bookcases eavesdropping, clearly.
They both jump back and try to act casual. Liv pulls out herphone and leans a shoulder against the fireplace like she is just casually cruising Instagram or something. Mayhem scrambles past her to the center of the mantle where she immediately starts examining the family photos there like she's never seen them before. I glare at both of them, flipping them the middle finger as I storm by.
“Well, here’s the deal,” Clark starts. “I don’t think it will make you feel any better but they’re going to pretend you had the flu. So this won’t harm your value when you hit the market because you won’t look like you walked out on your team. But that means you also can’t rat Landry out to the player’s union.”
“What? No! I have to,” I bark.
“They say if you do, then they’ll claim contract violation for not showing up to the game,” Clark sounds despondent. “Then they’ll likely get away with handing you a suspension and no one will pick you up because you’ll be labeled a problem child.”
“Fuck,” I hiss.
“What? What’s he saying?” my dad asks, and I turn and shush him and storm into the dining room to get away from him. I mean shit, I am a grown adult, I should be allowed to have a private conversation. Why the fuck didn’t I move out and get my own place?
Dad doesn't follow me, which is good, but I know, no matter how annoying it is, he only wants the best for me. So I kind of feel bad as I drop down into one of the dining room chairs. Almost as bad as I felt about storming out on Mac like we weren't just about to have sex. I stare out the massive bay window, at the snowy front yard and try to fight the guilt. "Clearly my team didn't need me."
"They won one game against a team that's circling the drain just like they are. It was dumb luck, not your absence that gave them that W," Clark replies tersely. "Anyway, I still say walking out was the right choice. Just shake this off andwe'll regroup on the twenty-seventh, okay? Don't worry. That contract of yours is hefty, so it's a bit unattractive, but someone out there will know you're worth the risk. Your dad is buddies with a lot of ex-players who went into management or coaching. Have him give them a call and talk you up as soon as that waiver announcement is made. Not a second before, Con, or it's a violation. Okay?"
“Yeah.” I rub my forehead. I am not going to beg my dad to help save my ass. I just… I can’t. I have made a point of not needing his help. I’m proud of that. I don’t want to give that up.
