Page 41 of Not My Coach
We step into the room, and silence consumes us.
“Donnelley, have a seat, please.” I take control of the situation. “I understand that what just occurred was not handled in a professional manner, and for that, I apologize.”
“You apologize?” Burnsy scoffs. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I let the comment go.
“When Evie and I met, we didn’t know who each other were in terms of this team. I had no idea she was related to you,” I explain.
He rolls his eyes and says, “Well, you do now. Yet here you are, blowing up on some dude next to her.”
“I won’t apologize for standing up for her.” My jaw tics.
“Stop fucking my sister,” he cries out. “For the love of God, stop!”
“I understand you’re upset, Brett. We will discuss this further tomorrow. My office, nine a.m.,” I tell him, my tone final.
He chuckles. “So, you’re done then? You’ll leave her alone?”
Tightening my tie, I admit, “I never said that.”
He throws his hands up in defeat. “Fuck?—”
But I stop him before he says something he’ll regret. “Look, I am still your head coach, and you will show some goddamn respect. I am not discussing this further with you in front of the team. We will handle this in private. As for Evie, I’m not staying away from her. I will quit this team if it comes to it, but I’m not leaving her.”
I turn around, and Monroe, now joined by my other assistants, side-eye me. I am about five seconds from reminding everyone where their place is on this team.
“Fuck you, dude!” Brett shouts as I walk out of the locker room and head to my office, my assistants hot on my heels.
“I think you dealt with that fairly well,” Coach Stewart says, and I smile at his compliment.
I definitely could have handled it much worse—that’s for sure.
“Can one of you check with HR to see if they can join Brett and me tomorrow morning?” I ask them, gathering up my things.
“Of course. I’ll text you what they say,” Monroe answers me.
“Thanks. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have someplace to be.”
“Of course,” they mumble and exit my office.
Grabbing my phone, I call Evie.
She answers on the first ring. “Hey.”
“Hey, where are you?” I ask, desperate to see her.
She scoffs, “Heading to my parents’ for a family meeting. Brett’s coming over too.”
“Do you want some backup?” I offer genuinely.
Being ganged up on by her family is not what I wanted this to turn into.
“As much as I appreciate that, I think I need to tackle this alone.” She pauses. “Can I come over afterward? I still have that bag packed that you asked for.”
My heart races. “Of course. Call me when you’re on the way?”
“You got it,” she breathes. “See you soon, babe.”