Someone asks the terms of the Moriarty deal, and Bellamy enthusiastically responds while I pretend to listen and secretly spiral. I knew Jacob Moriarty would agree to new contract terms with the team one day, obviously. Statistically speaking, virtually all holdouts do. And I also knew the vast majority sign their new deals before preseason. But knowing all that in advance and witnessing it play out are two very different things. Now that the moment is here, I feel sweat forming on my palms and hairline, and bile rising in my throat.
“Has Moriarty been working out hard while he’s been away?” the offensive coordinator asks.
Bellamy frowns. “His agent was pretty vague about that, so I’m guessing we’re about to find out he’s woefully out of shape and rusty as fuck.”
Everyone groans at the same time.
“We’ll be okay,” Bellamy says. “We’ve still got the whole preseason before Moriarty needs to be in top form again. That should be enough time.”
Dad nods emphatically at that. And then, to my horror, he looks at me and says, “Chelsea, start working one-on-one with Moriarty, as of tomorrow.”
Is that a sign Dad is planning to cut Luca?Unfortunately, Raul expresses enthusiastic agreement with that idea and then, adding insult to injury, he nudges my arm and smiles at me, like he thinks we’re sharing a celebratory moment.
In a fit of panic, I catch Bellamy’s eye at the other end of the table and nonverbally plead with him to say something, anything, to get me out of this new assignment. He’s the only one at this table who knows my fate is now tied to Luca’s,thanks to the deal he offered me in the auditorium. But even more importantly, Bellamy recently praised Luca at an all-team scrimmage, so I know he feels like Luca’s come a long way, the same way I do.
When Bellamy receives my nonverbal message, he subtly shakes his head, letting me know he’s not going to intervene on my behalf. That, in fact, he’s perfectly happy with the new arrangement that’s just unfolded.
My cheeks flaming, I muster the courage to address the full table. “Moriarty won’t take direction from me, and we’ve only got a few weeks to whip him into shape. For that reason, I think you should assign him to someone else. Someone with more experience.”
Dad doesn’t hesitate. “No, I’ve got a gut feeling about this, and I’m sure this is the right call.”
Raul interjects, “Don’t worry, Chelsea. Jacob’s notorious for not being coachable for anyone, so if he doesn’t listen to you, that will be par for the course. Nothing personal.”
“Exactly.” Dad looks down at his iPad. “Now, back to Number Ninety-Five. Luca Maguire.” He looks at his linebacker coach. “You were saying you’re undecided about him, Raul?”
“Yeah, he’s a tough call for me,” Raul concedes as I sit next to him, feeling like I’m on the verge of losing my dinner. “There’s no question he’s fantastic for team morale. Everybody loves Luca.”
Uh-oh.If he’s starting with Luca’s personality rather than with his amazing progress over the past weeks of practices and scrimmages, Luca’s in deep trouble.
“Thanks to Chelsea working her magic with him,” Raul continues, “Luca’s significantly tamped down his loose-cannon/adrenaline-junkie tendencies and made remarkable progress on the field.” He shoots me a warm smile, but I canonly press my lips together and breathe deeply through my nose.
“He’s still got some improvements to make in a few key areas,” Raul continues. “But on balance, my vote is to keep Luca for now and see how he fares in the game on Sunday.”
Good lord. Would it have killed him to lead with that?
Deeply relieved, I let out a long, shaky exhale, hoping it’s not audible to anyone at the table. Luca’s not out of the woods yet. Dad might strongly disagree. But after getting Raul’s endorsement, no matter how tepid, Luca is one step closer to staying alive for at least another week.
“Chelsea?” Dad asks. “I’m assuming you’re in full agreement with Raul?”
That’s interesting. Dad didn’t assume that when we considered Jeremy Calhoun a moment ago.
“I am,” I admit, trying my best to sound calm and professional. “I predict Luca’s on a trajectory for even more improvement. He’s certainly been working his tail off. So, like Raul, I’d vote to give him some reps in the game on Sunday to see what he can do.”
Dad jots down a note before seeking input from some other people. And, to my relief, everyone who speaks agrees with Raul and me.
“Personally,” Dad says, leaning back in his chair, “I’m on the fence about Maguire. But I trust the people who’ve worked closest with him to lead the way at this stage.” Dad looks at Bellamy at the other end of the long table. “Are you okay with keeping Number Ninety-Five another week, Walker?”
Shit on a shingle. If Dad’s asking Walker Bellamy’s opinion, he must really be looking for a reason to cut Luca.
“I’m undecided on Luca, like you,” Bellamy replies smoothly. “But, yes, I’m good with the decision.”
Bellamy is undecided? What happened to the generalmanager seeing marketing gold in Luca? Apparently, now that Moriarty’s secured, Luca’s value has greatly diminished in Bellamy’s eyes. At least, to the point that Bellamy’s not particularly interested in Luca’s fate any longer. Shoot. Does this mean Bellamy will renege on his promise to give me that job in operations when Luca makes it onto the active roster? Because I still have faith that’s exactly what Luca will do in a matter of weeks, if only the men at this table will give him some more time to build on the amazing progress he’s managed thus far.
“Okay, we keep Maguire for now,” Dad declares. “But if he shits the bed against the Admirals this Sunday, let’s agree we’ll cut him that very night so he can hopefully get picked up somewhere else and play in the remaining two preseason games for another team.”
CHAPTER 20
Chelsea
