Page 11 of Gridlocked on the Gridiron

Her two laptops sat in front of her, one running diagnostics on the software she was trying to finish by the end of the season—though that appeared to be a lofty goal—and the other displaying game stats. The large screen hanging on the left side of the room showed the game in crisp high definition, which was good because she could hardly see who was who from all the way up here.

She clicked through the different views on her second laptop, making sure her all-22 view and replay options were both working before kickoff. Now was when the adrenaline usually hit, though she was still technically in training, learning her new team’s processes. She’d been told to shadow the other analysts to get a feel for how different her old procedures were from what they did, and to focus her attention on Colton’s performance.

In the first quarter, Lucia watched the team as a whole, taking in the sloppy offensive line and an asleep-at-the-wheel defense. As she already knew, Colton was not the only reason this team was trudging painfully through preseason.

After she’d made some shorthand notes for herself to review when looking at film, she focused on a very unfocused Colton. He seemed oddly out of sync compared to where he’d been in February of that year. To the untrained eye, he still seemed to have a semblance of rhythm, but she could see that the lack of offensive line protection wasn’t the only issue. Sure, the collapses were messing up his timing and confidence, but his reads were predictable. He was making it easy for their opponents to pick off the ball.

Despite that, Lucia had to admit that his mechanics were nearly flawless. Every once in a while, he’d release the ball too early and miss his mark, but for the most part, his motion looked solid. She wondered how he would do without pressure. If he were just to throw a long pass without giant linemen descending upon him. She made a note to herself to have him do some drills alone the day after next.

After a particularly bad drive, he stomped off the field, tossing his helmet to the side. Lucia couldn’t be sure what he was saying, but his hands were waving wildly. What she wouldn’t have given for a Mic’d Up episode right then.

Halftime was busy as the analysts ran data and numbers to the coaches and broadcasters. Through the hustle and bustle, she offered to proof the numbers. Instead, they had her take the physical copies over to the coaching box. She smiled (read: bared her teeth) as she took the sheets of paper from them, cursing whatever high being decided to make her love this sport so much.

The second half was slightly better. Cooper Hayes, Colton’s favored receiver and Charleston’s beloved tight end, had finally been cleared to play again after a pretty bad concussion in the first quarter of the first preseason game. It appeared to give Colton the confidence he needed to send up two beautiful passes for seventy yards, setting up a first and goal at the three-yard line. After two failed rushes by the running back, Colton ran the ball into the end zone himself.

The crowd roared, finally seeing their star quarterback tapping into his potential and giving the Sabertooths their first lead of the game. A few minutes later, near the end of the fourth quarter, Colton connected with Cooper for another touchdown, putting a nail in the Lions’ coffin.

It had been a hard-fought win. Everyone, from the players, to the fans, to the coaches and analysts, knew the Sabers should’ve obliterated the Lions. Even so, fans filing out of the stadium yelled and cheered and stomped to show their support for a team that had brought their city so much success in previous years.

It was an ugly win, but it gave them hope that the season might not be over.

Colton was late. Again. Forty-five minutes late, to be exact. Lucia wasn’t surprised, but she was annoyed. It was a Saturday, and while she normally worked weekends, having a Friday game meant Saturday was optional for staff. She could’ve worked from home, at the very least. She’d gone out of her way to be there today to help Colton, and he didn’t even have the courtesy to let her know he was going to be late. Or not come at all.

She checked her phone again before walking out of her office and down the hall. She stopped, quieting her steps when she heard a voice.

“I told you I’m busy right now. I have to—” Silence.

Colton must’ve been on the phone. Lucia wondered if she should back away, sit down in her office, and wait for him to finish his conversation. She’d overheard his call with his sister two days earlier—though, to be fair, that was his fault for barely stepping outside of her office. This eavesdropping was on her. Maybe she was nosy, or maybe she was tired of him snubbing her and strolling into their sessions late (or never), but she didn’t move away.

“Yes, Dad, I understand. I played poorly and am lucky we won…Yes, I know you moved to Charleston to come to my games…” A sigh. “Yes, I’m sorry I’ve been playing in a way that disappoints you.”

Lucia’s eyebrows pinched together. His father sounded like a grade-A douche.

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, she mused.

“Yes, I’ll be in the gym twice a day this week. I’m well aware that, starting now, the games count, Dad. I’ve lived and breathed football my entire life. I think I know the difference between preseason and regular season.” There was that hint of temper in his voice, and Lucia wondered how he kept a hold of it so well with his father but seemed unable to with her.

Lucia was so focused on her own thoughts that she didn’t hear his approach. Around the corner he came, phone still to his ear, and his eyes fell to her. Oh, and he was pissed. There was the wrinkle between his brows that always accompanied their encounters, and his frown was more pronounced than usual. Her eyes fell to his jaw, which had clenched quite a bit since he’d found her listening to his conversation.

She wagged her fingers in a pitiful wave, a faux-innocent smile curving her lips. She tried to look apologetic but had no idea if it came across that way.

“I’m gonna have to call you later, Dad. Something’s happened at the facility, and I need to go.” His eyes searched her face as he listened to his father.

Colton stepped closer, and she stepped back, her body pressed to the wall. She couldn’t put her finger on what he smelled like, but whatever it was, it was good.

“Yeah, I’ll come by sometime this week.” Suddenly, the phone was in his pocket, and his full attention was on her. “Why am I not surprised that you don’t know how to mind your business? Snooping to see if I’d give up something valuable for you and the Vipers to use against me?”

Lucia swallowed, and his eyes tracked the movement. “I was coming to drag you up here since you’re late. Again. It’s not my fault you have private conversations out in the open.”

She shouldn’t have been listening in, but she was fed up with all the men in her life treating her like she didn’t deserve a seat at the table. She didn’t know what else she could do to prove she’d earned her place in Charleston and in the NFL, but she wasn’t going to keep taking it lying down. Especially not from Colton.

Colton’s eyes narrowed. “How much did you hear?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Not much, I really was just coming to see where you were.” She crossed her arms, trying to appear confident. “I’m tired of you acting like showing up to our meetings is optional. I have been waiting here since our agreed-upon time. I could’ve been at home.”

“Yeah? You have plans you’re missing out on?”

“My life outside of work is none of your business.”

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