“It was probably closer to three years if we’re being honest, but who’s counting?”
I wink and Keeley’s lips press together in a frown, but she lets me off the hook, dropping the issue as promised, both of us falling back into a comfortable existence, and an ease takes over me.
I’ve always been able to go it alone, to get things done, to do what I had to do without getting others involved. And I liked it that way. Until I didn’t. Now, I have to admit, it’s nice having a teammate.
It’s nice getting to share the load.
Zane’s a formidable force over the next couple of months, and while football is a team sport, he’s a big contributor to our success in the lead-up to the playoffs. I’d go so far as to say he channeled his rage into the game, and it shows. With the media furor surrounding Landon’s death finally dying down—now that they have other topics to focus on—we’re all working hard to put that chapter behind us.
If only I could put all the Storm chaos behind me. Instead, I have new problems to tackle almost every day, each accompanied by a giant billboard that says, “you can’t avoid this anymore” and a flashing red danger sign.
I used to think Paige would be the death of me. Now I’m not so sure. The Storm franchise is working its way up to that top spot.
As though my thoughts conjured her, Paige calls as I’m hanging up with the Storm chief financial officer, and I smile as I answer. “Hey, Kid. How’s your day?”
“Busy as always with an almost five-year-old. How are you?”
“Busy as always surrounded by five-year-olds.”
“Oh, dear. Who was it this time?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’d much rather talk about thealmostfive-year-old that can actually do things that are asked of him.”
“There’s a bit of a difference between brushing your teeth and running a billion-dollar empire.”
“Hey, I’m the one running those empires. Their jobs are to control their fucking departments. Oh, ship, you don’t have me on speaker, do you?”
“Nope, I learned my lesson the hard way. Let’s just say that Isaac doesn’t say ‘ship’ when something goes wrong.”
“Ah, fudge. I’m sorry.”
“No need to be. It wasn’t you. It was Mom.”
“Oh, good.”
“Good?”
“Yep. I want to be the favorite grandparent on your side.”
“I’m happy to hear that because Isaac asked if you could come over for dinner tonight. He said something about a secret club?” Her voice is hesitant, and I laugh out loud for the first time in what feels like weeks.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no club.”
“What did he say?” Isaac’s sweet little voice filters in from the background, and my heart fills with so much love.
“He said there’s no club,” Paige tells him, and I bite back a smile.
“Good. Is he coming over?”
“I sure am. Give me an hour.”
“He’s coming.”
“Yay.” Isaac’s cheers work to chip away at the wall I’d erected to get through this week, and I make a mental note to thank him for it.
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Thanks, Dad. Maybe you can stay after he’s gone to sleep? We can chat about your work?”
