Goals.
He needed something to strive for and he still was coming up with blanks.
His agent told him they already had some broadcasting gigs lined up. Sure, that was fine too, but nothing would be full-timeor major. It’d be seasonal and more like a game day sideline correspondent. He didn’t think he’d want to do anything more than that.
He might perform well in front of a stadium of over sixty thousand people, but he was in the zone for that.
Even talking in front of a camera after the game, he was great there too. It was a minute or so.
Hours in front of the TV with all those expectations and every move he made watched? Did he want to work so hard at another career with so many eyes on him?
Did he have it in him?
He didn’t think so.
But he had two years to figure it out. Or take time off and do it at a slower pace.
If he even understood what a slow pace was.
“There is nothing to be worried about,” he said. “I take care of myself and follow all precautions.”
Stephanie narrowed her eyes at him. “You can’t prevent this until you don’t play.”
“Every player gets a concussion,” he said. “Whether they know it or not. You’ve probably had a few when I dropped you on your head as a kid. I just didn’t tell Mom.”
Stephanie gave him a shove. “That’s not funny.”
“I thought it was when you were little until you wouldn’t stop crying.”
His sister rolled her eyes. “Stop being cute.”
“I can’t help it. I was born looking like this,” he said, rubbing his knuckles on her head and messing up her hair.
She pushed out of his arms. “Your head is so big I’m surprised anything can hurt it.”
“There you go,” he said. “And I’m wearing extra padding this year. It’s going to be fine.”
At least that was what he told himself every night.
3
RANDOM THOUGHTS
The following Saturday, Emma walked into the Bond Casino ready to watch some action on the screens in the back.
She got what she needed from her few days as a bartender.
What shocked her was the amount of tips she’d made. She never put much thought into what it could add up to at the end of the night. It wasn’t even the tourist season yet.
“Griffin,” Emma said to her cousin Eli’s head of security. She’d texted Eli and been told Griffin would arrange for her to go to a private suite and show her around. “I love the personal escort. Thanks for letting me do this. I won’t touch anything, I promise.”
“No worries,” Griffin said.
“Garrett,” she said when she saw her cousin walking toward her. “I haven’t seen you in a while. I heard you were on the island for a year.” He was an oncology doctor just like his father. She’d spoken to him a few times when she had research to do.
She was lucky her family was so broad and willing to help out.
“Nice to see you,” Garrett said. “This is Justine Keller. She’s a big fan.”
