Page 4 of Faking Ties

“You can and will. What are you really leaving? The diner that doesn’t pay you well? A town that’s been nothing but cruel to you? Yeah, real hard decision there. And as for your mom, I’ll come over and make sure she’s okay while you’re away.”

I wince, hating that she’s right. “But?—”

“No buts. The Spice Girls collectively dare you to accept.”

“You’d bring the Spice Girls into this?” I gasp. “How dare you.” If they’re involved, I have to accept. It’s the rules we agreed upon when we were eight for situations just like this where one of us is scared to do something that’ll benefit us. Like when I was too scared to try out for the track team or when Nina was uncertainif she should wear the clothes she sewed for the first time.

“What better time than now?” she asks. “If you don’t accept this offer, I won’t be responsible for what I do to you. Just start with tonight and see how it goes. If you hate it, then at least you tried.”

That’s actually a good idea. One night shouldn’t be that hard. I could probably get away with it by being myself and no one would know. It should be easy and straightforward, and I’ll get paid a shit ton of money to do it.

“Fine,” I say. “But I’ll have to leave soon to make it in time. I just need to drop off the muffins I baked for the diner.” It’s my passion, baking, and it’s the only bright spot about working there.

“Do it or leave the muffins at your mom’s and I can bring them for you. I’ll also call Greg and check in on Rose regularly. Go quit that job of yours and have your Cinderella moment. After that, I expect a detailed presentation, TED Talk style, of every second of it.”

“Details I can do, but Cinderella?” I grimace. “Come on, the prince couldn’t even remember what she looked like, and it’s not like she was wearing a mask.”

“Okay, good point. Then go to that gala and slay like the badass boss babe that you are, no prince required.”

I grin. “Now that’s more like it.”

HUNTER

“I’m too damn old for this shit,” I grumble into my phone as the hired car weaves through traffic, heading towards yet another obligatory charity event that my manager, Andrew, insists I attend even if I should be preparing for training camp.

“Well, thirty-four is practically ancient in the NFL,” Andrew oh so helpfully says. “We’ve got to hustle if we want to squeeze out another year on that contract of yours.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes even though he can't see me. “Yeah, well, rubbing elbows with a bunch of socialites isn't going to make that happen.”

“It will if Evren shows up.”

That makes me pause. Evren Kaya, the new owner of the Skyrise Sentinels, and the decision maker on my contract. He’s made it clear that he’ll be hands-on this season to turn the team around. Last season was anembarrassment for us all, and he bluntly stated a repeat won’t be tolerated. My contract extension should be a given since I’m one of the best tight ends in the league, but under Evren, it’s not.

He hates me and made that clear when he announced that any player who doesn’t showcase the team in a positive light will be reprimanded. Within ten minutes of him making thatstatement, Andrew informed me that I have five fines to pay for. Three for headlines of me partying, one for unsportsmanlike conduct at a game from last year where I threw my helmet on the sidelines, and one for being seen with five different women in one week alone. As far as I know, I’m the only one who was fined for past misdeeds. I’m not sure why Evren is punishing me for having a life and getting laid regularly, but he is and it’s fucking annoying.

“Evren can suck a dick for all I care,” I say, still angry about those fines from last week. “He’s a billionaire for fuck’s sake and doesn’t need my money. I’m a star on this team and?—”

“And you’re coming off an injury. When you put it all together, you’re screwed.” Andrew pauses, letting that tidbit sink in. Andrew is the best in the business, and he’s always been straight up with me. Unfortunately, this is not at all what I need to hear right now. “We’ve leaned into your current image and have been successful with it, but it’s not going to cut it anymore. It’s time to pivot because if we don’t soften yourassholeness, it won’t be just a fine we’re dealing with, but the end of your career.”

“Fine,” I grit out. “I’ll make nice with him.”

“And the team.”

“Do I really?” I’ve heard what my teammates say about me behind my back: that I’m an asshole who takes winning too seriously and is too critical of others. It’s not my fault my teammates don’t like to receive feedback. They don’t care about the game like I do. Winning is everything to me. My father drilled that into me from a young age, and he was right. Winning helped me through my parents’ divorce, gave me something to focus on rather than their fighting. Being on a football scholarship was also the only way I could go to college. Now, it’s how I’ve secured millions by playing in the NFL. I’ve carved a name for myself in this sport, and I refuse to give that up because of Evren.

“Yes, and that’s nonnegotiable,” Andrew says. “Making nice with the team will reinforce your image makeover.”

I clench my jaw, unhappy with this development, but extending my contract means everything to me. I’m nothing without football. Sure, I could aim for a trade, but with only a couple years left in me, I don’t want to start over with a new team. I also don’t want to leave Coach Shull. He’s the best coach in the league, and someone I respect.

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll make nice with the team.”

“Good,” Andrew says. “Text me when you leave the charity event tonight.”

“Are you going to be like this from now on? Putting me on a leash?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Andrew chuckles before hanging up on me.

The car pulls up in front of a swanky hotel in New York City, complete with a red carpet that leads from the drop-off area, up a few steps, and into the hotel. Paparazzi line both sides of the carpet and fans stand behind them. The car door in front of mine opens and out steps a slender leg followed by a woman’s profile that’s so beautiful, my entire body pulls taut at the sight of her. She’s taller than every woman here, which is striking enough. But there’s also an innocence about her with her pouty lips and pert nose, but it’s all in direct contrast to the navy, shimmery dress she’s wearing with sexy cutouts at her sides.

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