Page 35 of The Backup Plan

“We were given a two-year runway,” Grant says. “One to build—that was last year—and now one to prove we belong in this league. That’s not a lot of time for any giant to be fed and then learn to thrive, but we’ll meet the challenge.”

“Why the ridiculous parameters?” a man with a sun visor low on his forehead asks.

“Because the league has had a few bad years of PR with some significant injuries on the field—and on camera. Yes, this is America’s pastime and sport, but it’s also now under scrutiny for so many other reasons. They want something to be able to overshadow some of that negative press, and one of those things is the unprecedented success of the new Lone Star Rebels and the Washington Grizzlies

“That’s still ridiculous. What’s their definition of success?” a man standing against the wall asks. He’s red from the sun, and he has white sunscreen not completely blended on his ears.

“A breakout star? A break-even record? It’s as ambiguous as that.” Grant shrugs. “We’ve brought in an incredible social media team to help market us to the public. We’ve done ‘collabs’ with celebrities and influencers to get our gear trending. We’re trying to make this a whole experience so that people root for and want to represent us regardless.”

The majority of the room nods their heads.

“And if we aren’t deemed a success by year end?” Coach asks, and I’m not sure if he knows the answer and is asking because no one else will, or if he genuinely doesn’t know.

“If we’re not, then the league has the authority to relocate us. Or fold us.”

The words land heavy. No one speaks as they digest his words.

“I doubt it,” someone scoffs on the far end of the room. “That’s a shit ton of money for the league to invest in us to then blow us off that quickly.”

“While I agree with that assessment,” Grant says, “I have to go off what we’ve been told—scare tactic or not.”

There are a few murmured agreements and questions.

My gaze drifts to the field out the window where the guys stand now, helmets off, laughing in a circle. My eyes shouldn’t focus on Lucas, but they do because he looks like the polar opposite of what he did in my office earlier. He seems relaxed, laid-back, and confident.

His grin is wide and there’s something about him like this—crinkles at his eyes, skin tanned, a stain of sweat down his shirt, the avid attention of those around him—that screams all-American boy next door.

I stare longer than I should. He’s clearly not doing anything physical that I should be assessing, and yet it takes Grant’s voice at the front of the room to pull me back to where my focus should be—the meeting.

“We don’t have the luxury to get bad press or slow starts. Every injury. Every rumor. Every damn headline matters.” His eyes sweep around the table and meet squarely with mine. “Especially medically.”

I straighten slightly. “Understood.”

“We’re already under scrutiny,” he says. “Expansion teams don’t get patience. And they don’t get second chances.”

Coach nods. “Which means we need to know when a player can’t perform.”

“And when they shouldn’t, despite what they say,” another person farther down the table says.

How I hope I can learn all their names soon . . .

Grant’s gaze remains steady. “Your reports will be critical, Dr. Porter.”

Not Emery.

Dr. Porter.

Formal. Intentional.

God, it feels good to be acknowledged professionally right off the bat.

“As you would expect, your reports, along with Owen’s, will influence lineup decisions, contracts, media messaging, and yes, careers,” Grant finishes.

My pulse ticks up a notch. “I report facts,” I say evenly. “Range of motion. Strength. Recovery trajectory. Risk. My objective is to form a relationship with the players under my care and get them to trust me so I can help them get out on the field faster. And yes, that is always a priority, but I’m also well aware that beyond my expertise in helping a player get game ready, my loyalty is to this team and its overall success.”

Grant lifts his chin some. “Good, because we need objectivity.”

Objective. A clean word. A dangerous one.