She smiled. “Attaboy.” She went to move a chair closer to him.
He got up and brought it closer, waiting until she sat down.
“Now, tell me about your real problem,” she said once he sat down again. “The one you were trying to avoid telling me.”
“You know that I have people living in my house whom I can’t get to leave.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know who they are or what they’re into.” He rubbed his neck, trying to figure out how to explain it all. “My dad invited them. In Ghana, where my dad’s from, everyone is your brother, and you treat them as such. Even people you’ve never met before.”
Her brow furrowed. “So your dad’s invited these people, who are of questionable background, to stay in your house?”
“Yes.” He swallowed thickly. “It’s my fault. I travel a lot for the game, and it was easier to just let it go and let him do what made him happy. But the more I let it go, the more ingrained they’ve become, and now they’re bringing drugs into my home.”
“Holy cow,” Lottie breathed, almost in wonder. “You’re living a Netflix show.”
“It gets better.” Or worse, from his perspective.
“Of course it does,” she said sympathetically, patting his knee.
“I do work for a charity for kids.” Sighing, he shook his head. “My best friend growing up and I founded it. He runs the operations and programs. I’m in charge of the finances and investing the money we receive to grow it for our projects.”
She looked him over. “You saying you’re a financial genius?”
“Yes,” he replied simply.
“Does Jamie know?”
“No one knows. Especially my father,” he said pointedly. “He’d try to convince me to use the money to support all these guys. He says a man takes care of his family.”
“Even if they aren’t actually family?” she asked.
“Even still. A man doesn’t turn his family out into the street.”
Lottie shook her head. “It amazes me how many men spout off ideas about what it means to be a man without knowing. When did that knowledge get lost?”
“Me wanting them all to leave created a lot of tension,” he continued. He propped his elbows on his knees and folded his hands between his legs. “MacNiven asked why I hadn’t called the police to evict them, but if I do that, they’ll find the drugs and it’ll stick to me. With my foundation—”
“They’ll wonder if you were laundering money through the organization. It’d bring a lot of scrutiny down on your heads.” At his surprised look, she shrugged. “I’ve seenBreaking Bad. I know how this all goes down.”
“There’s more,” he warned her.
“Tell me.”
“I don’t want my half brother Kofi to get mixed up in any of that. I had him come to London so he could go to culinary school. He loves to cook. But our dad’s subverted that. I need to get Kofi out.”
“Does he want to get out?”
He blinked. “Of course. Why wouldn’t he?”
“So you have this mess on your doorstep,” she summed up, “and you need help asserting yourself, like I assume you do on the field.”
“Exactly.” He sat back, relieved that she understood. “It’s why I came here to MacNiven, despite him being my nemesis, because I knew he’d be able to coach me.”
“Do you know what ‘nemesis’ means?” she asked.
Surprised by the question, he shrugged. “It’s your enemy.”