“Frankie?”
“Yeah,” she says, finally. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Worried about Nakamura? Don’t be. I think we’ve got it in the bag.”
“No, it’s not that,” she says, finally twisting around in the water, her hair slicked back, and I try to focus on that and not that she’s clearly swimming in her bra and panties. It doesn’t cover any less of her than a bathing suit would, but still, my dick doesn’t care: it knows the difference.
“Then what’s up?” I ask, settling down on the pavers, with only my boxer briefs on, letting my feet dangle into the pool, the water perfect as it laps against my shins.
“I got fired.”
The words at first don’t actually register for me.I got fired. They’re absolutely the last thing I ever expected her to say, but then when they hit me, the only thing I can feel is pure unadulterated rage.
“Dan Wilson. I’m going to beat the shit out of that motherfucker.”
“No, not Dan Wilson,” she says, lifting herself up out of the pool, and I’m so enraged that I don’t even fully appreciate the long line of her body glinting in the moonlit. “Me. It was my fault. Nobody’s fault but mine.” She wraps a towel around herself.
“You’re telling me he didn’t have anything to do with it?”
“He definitely did. I’m sure, while we were watching the game with Nakamura and handing him watered-down minor-leaguebeer and shopping-center tacos, he was on the phone with every single member of the Eagles board, who then called Hannah Vinch to let her know I blew the deal and that’s that. I’m done and it’s no one’s fault except mine.”
That has me on my feet in an instant. “Bullshit. He’s just a dick who’s afraid his star player is going to take less money to sign with the team he wants, instead of the team Dan tells him he wants. The one that would earn Dan a bigger cut.”
“Yeah, but that’s the job, isn’t it? Dealing with assholes like Dan Wilson, making sure you don’t alienate them, making sure you woo themandtheir clients. That’s what I was supposed do, that’s what Stew entrusted me with, and I didn’t do that, so I lose, game over.”
“No, no, I don’t accept that.”
“You don’t have to. It’s already done.”
“Fuck, well then I’m gone too.”
“No!” she practically shouts, but then shakes her head and continues, her voice lower, “Don’t do that. Don’t make it like that. I want you to stay with the team. Those boys, they need you and you need them. I know you’re gonna do great things with the Eagles and you deserve your ring.”
“You deserve it too. More. You’re the one who started this, building the team since last season. It’s your team, Francesca.”
“It was supposed to be.” Her voice hitches and, as I take a step closer and then another, it’s clear the droplets of water now running over her cheeks are tears. “But it’s not anymore. It’s yours.”
“C’mere,” I say, reaching out for her, a hand at her shoulder gently guiding her forward into my chest. She takes a small step and then just collapses into me, her body heaving in quiet sobs as she cries, her tears hot against my skin.
“You have to promise me,” she mumbles against my shoulder, as her arms come around me, holding tight ,and I press a hand toher back to keep her close, her towel rough against my fingertips. “You have to promise me you’ll win the whole damn thing.”
“Okay, okay,” I say, as I feel her breathing start to even, warm exhales over my chest that make the hair there stand on end while goosebumps rise over my skin. “I promise.”
“Good, and wherever I land I’ll be doing my best to make sure that doesn’t happen,” she says, leaning back in my arms and looking up into my eyes, her gaze satisfied, but still not shining with that brightness I love.
Love.
Shit.
I love her.
I don’t even know when it happened.
There’s no moment I can pinpoint, no bolt of lightning to my heart or tidal wave of feelings.
It’s been there for so long, I didn’t even notice, until right now when she was crying in my arms, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to fix it.
The last of her tears fall and I reach up to wipe one away with the pad of my thumb
