Coach Harper blows the whistle, and everyone congregates around him. “Good practice, everyone. You have the next two days off to rest. Practice Saturday and we play Pittsburgh Sunday. Don’t get into any trouble. I don’t need to remind you we’re only three games away from being Super Bowl champions.” Everyone cheers at his words then head into the locker room to shower and change.
Coach Harper pats Nick on the shoulder. “See you Friday, Son.”
Nick nods and smiles. “Yes, sir.” Coach Harper is the father of Nick’s fiancée, Olivia, and the grandfather to their son, Reed. You would think it would be awkward for Nick to be playing on the same team his future father-in-law coaches, but the truth is, Stephen Harper is more of a father to Nick than his own father is. He never gives him special treatment, but it’s clear they have a good relationship. When Nick was picked up last year, Coach spent every day helping him work out and get back into shape after his injury.
Once I’m packed up and ready to go, I turn my cell phone back on and see a missed call from my publicist. I give her a call back. “Amber, how’s it going?”
“Good, thanks for returning my call. I just wanted to remind you tomorrow night is the party with Bugatti to announce your endorsement deal with them. Several major investors will be there.”
I grin at the thought of signing a deal with Bugatti. My first big purchase I made after I signed with New York was a Bugatti Veyron, my dream car. I’ve owned several others since then, but the Veyron will always be my favorite. So when my agent, Mike Miller, was approached about me signing an endorsement deal with them, it was a fucking given. It’s common for football players to endorse various items and companies such as insurance agencies, clothing lines, and different health food companies. But being named MVP of the Super Bowl last year has opened endorsement gates I never imagined possible—including getting a special edition made of my favorite car.
Amber continues. “I’ll email you the details again, just in case you lost them.” The woman knows me way too well. I suck at remembering anything other than when to catch a ball. “Will you need a date?” she asks.
“Yeah, thanks.”
We hang up, and as I’m grabbing my gym bag, I spot Nick walking over to me, his own bag slung over his shoulder. “Ready to go?” I ask.
“Hell yes.” We head out of the stadium and toward my car. Because we live in the same building, we often ride together. Driving in New York sucks, which is why we only live about ten minutes from the stadium. “So listen, there’s a little get together Friday night for Giselle’s birthday. We’re going to dinner and then out afterward. Olivia knows we have curfew so we won’t be out too late. I know you and Giselle aren’t exactly friendly, but it would mean a lot to Olivia if you’d go. Giselle doesn’t have many friends.”
“How is that my fault? Maybe if she wasn’t so unpleasant to be around, more people would like her. Then you wouldn’t need me to increase your number of guests.” I know I sound like a dick, but I’m not lying. I have no clue how Olivia and Giselle are even friends, let alone best friends. While Olivia is sweet and soft-spoken and just an all-around nice person, Giselle is the complete opposite in every way: blunt, loud, and not at all nice.
“She’s not really that bad. You just have to get to know her. She’s like a Pitbull. She looks vicious, but once you pat her head, she’ll roll over, wag her tail, and lick you to death.” Nick shrugs.
“You realize you just compared her to a dog, right?” When Nick’s brows furrow in confusion, I shake with laughter. “A bitch?”
His eyes widen. “That’s not what I meant!”
“Well, if the shoe fits…or should we say paw?” I laugh harder at my own joke. “So, who else is going?”
“Her sister might come down, and Celeste will be there.” I start laughing all over again at the mention of Celeste.
“What?” Nick asks.
“I just can’t get over the fact that your current fiancée is friends with your ex-fiancée.” Nick glares, and it only has me cackling harder as I press the ignition and head out of the parking lot.
“Bro, shut the fuck up. Celeste was barely my fiancée.” He’s right, but I still have to give him shit about it. I met Nick and Celeste our freshman year of college. Nick and I shared a dorm, and Celeste was his childhood friend who was a few years younger but always hung out with us. She was and still is a gold-digger. She might be hot as fuck, and a huge model who owns a few successful businesses, but that doesn’t change the fact that her entire goal in life is to make money and marry a guy who will give her more money. I will never understand how in the world Nick has not only remained friends with her over the years, but almost married her last year.