Page 57 of Necessary Roughness

“I get up early.”

“Not for the past eight months you haven’t. Want to talk?”

“We are talking.”

Harrison let out a breath. “So this is how you want to play it. Listen, tough guy, at some point you’re going to have to talk about it, and I want you to know I’ll listen.”

“I really appreciate it, but things are fine.”

“Why don’t I check in at a somewhat normal hour, then?”

“Yeah.” Even if he was determined to tough this out on his own, he didn’t need to be an ass to his best friend. “Thanks for the call.”

“Got it.”

Harrison hung up, and Tanner glanced at the clock on his phone. He still had an hour and a half before he had to pull on some warm-ups and get over to the physical therapy clinic.

Five minutes before he was due to walk out the door of his house, his phone rang again.

“It’s probably Harrison,” he muttered.

It was the head coach of Atlanta’s team, otherwise known as Tanner’s new boss. He hit Answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Tanner, it’s Coach Peterson. I hope you won’t mind the short notice, but I’d like it if you’d join a conference call. We’re going over what the schedule looks like next week, and the information might come in handy.”

All NFL head coaches made every request of team personnel sound like the other person had a choice. They didn’t. Those who learned this fact stuck around.

“That sounds great. When’s the call happening?”

“Ten minutes from now. Can I count on you?”

“I’ll be there. I’ll need the number, though.”

The coach laughed like he’d said something hilarious.

“I’ll text it to you. There’s a code you’ll have to use too. See you in ten minutes, Cole.”

“I’ll be there.”

The coach ended the call.

Tanner pulled up the contact for the physical therapy clinic and hit the number. He had to miss his appointment. At least he could let Jordan know he wasn’t going to be there.

An unfamiliar voice picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Is this Eastside PT? This is Tanner Cole. I won’t be able to be at my appointment this morning because of a work commitment. Would you please let Jordan Mueller know?”

“Yeah,” the guy said. “Thanks for calling.” He hung up.

Tanner’s phone alerted him that a text had arrived. He clicked on it to see the conference call number and the code he’d need for access. He wanted to see Jordan one last time, but he had to be on the call. He hit the number.

***

JORDAN SPENT SOME of her workday puzzling over whether Tanner cancelled because he didn’t want to face her, or if he had an actual “work commitment.”

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