“And we’re back on you,” Drew says with a chuckle.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I hadn’t thought of it that way.” I shake my head. “Fuck, he sure does know how to throw a wrench into things.”
Drew chuckles. “He sure does. But don’t do anything yet, okay? Just keep your head down and your nose clean. Let me see what I can do, okay?”
I nod. “You got it. I’ll let you tackle this one for me. Maybe, just maybe, you can convince him that you deserve this. You’d have a better shot at convincing him of something like that than I would,” I say bitterly.
He nods. “We’ll see about that.”
We sit in silence for a moment while I check through all of the emails that I’ve been receiving while out here with him.
“We have that gala coming up soon. Another dog and pony show for Dad,” I say sourly.
“This one is for a good cause. He donated some money to the hospital, and now we’re going to some silent auction dinner as well. Did you do what you were supposed to and create a silent auction package?” He eyes me carefully.
We both know I forgot.
“Come on, brother, you may be in love with this one, but you have to make sure you are paying attention to work. You can’t be so fucking distracted all the time. It’s not going to help things in the long run,” he scolds.
I nod. “I’ll put something together from the Blaze. Get a blank jersey and have all the girls sign it. If it’s looking like a home playoff game, then we can offer some tickets or something like that.”
“Good boy. Make sure you get it all together in the next few days.” He sips on his beer and then asks, “Are you bringing her to the gala with you?”
I stare at him for a moment. “I’ve really thought about asking her, Drew. How bad do you think it would be if she came along?”
He shrugs. “Dad won’t make a scene in public, you know that. He’s all about appearances, so you should be okay the night of. It’ll just be the morning after when you’ll have to maybe gird your loins.”
I nod in understanding. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d be amazing at creating a new team. I think you should fight for it, Drew. Dad respects you. He’ll reward you for it. I know he will. If he can let me run a new team, he can do the same for you.”
Drew nods. “Thanks, man. I’m going to see what I can do with him, before he goes too far down the rabbit hole on this one.I think he’s planning on letting you finish with the Blaze before he makes any changes, so I have some time.” He sips his beer and grins at me. “Make sure that you guys last in the playoffs so that I can have some extra time, got it?”
I shake my head, laughing, “The girls and I will see what we can do.”
“Thanks, man,” he says, clapping me on the back.
I watch him, grateful that he’s willing to talk to Dad about this. I know he’s got a better chance than I do in making him change his mind. But I feel bad for him because clearly he’s interested in this opportunity and he’d be great. With all the shit that Dad gives me, it makes no sense that he’d give me this opportunity twice and simply ignore Drew. It’s not right. He deserves it, I do not. If Dad doesn’t listen to him, I’ll make him listen to me. Drew deserves that much.
Chapter Twenty-Five
~HENDRIX~
The away crowd was loud, but the field felt louder. The cleats clicking on the sidelines, shouts echoing across the pitch and the thump of the ball traveling across the ground. Gotham’s stadium always had electric, slightly hostile energy that I feed off of.
“Hey, Hen!” Cassie calls as she jogs back into her position with the backs. “Tell me you saw that defender trip over her own feet.”
I smirk. “I saw it. I’m choosing to believe that she was shitting her pants when I came out of the box to steal that ball from her.”
“Pure intimidation, huh?” Cassie asks me. “Your resting bitch face scares her that bad, huh?”
“My resting bitch face and imposing stance are our secret weapons,” I say, grinning at her.
“Your resting face could be called a felony sometimes,” she says, agreeing with me.
The ref blows a whistle and signals that it’s a Blaze throw-in.
It’ll be Cassie’s throw-in. I watch as she wipes her palms on her shorts before picking up the ball.
From the sideline, a Gotham fan yells, “Hey, eight, you dropped something! Your first touch.”
