Madden:I aim to please.
I can see he’s going to have to get the last word, so I let him settle in there.
It doesn’t work.
Madden:You sure you can’t squeeze in a dinner with me? For the sake of business, of course.
Me:I’m sure.
Madden:I want to know what happened between our fathers.
I freeze at that.
It’s out of left field and completely unexpected, but even if our fathers weren’t enemies, it would be a terrible idea to get involved with him.
Me:Then ask your father.
Madden:I did. I didn’t get anything out of him. I need to know what you know.
Me:Not my story to tell.
Madden:Why do you hate me?
This is getting deep for a text conversation with a man I hardly know, but maybe he communicates over text better than in person.
Me:You’re cocky, you’re annoying, you think you know everything, you’re a business rival. Do I need to go on?
Madden:You forgot one. You think I’m hot.
Me:See what I mean about annoying?
Madden:[smirk emoji]
He even smirks over text. What is with this guy?
Me:I need to get back to work. I have a big meeting I need to prepare for with a rival company.
Madden:I could help you, you know. Say…over dinner?
Me:In your dreams, mule.
Madden:See you in the morning, tiger.
I roll my eyes even though a little smile plays at my lips.
Wait a minute.
No. No smiles. I slap that smile right off my face, and then I get back to work.
CHAPTER 14: Madden Bradley
She’s Not My Type
I wasn’t nervous when recruiters came to watch me play football in high school.
I wasn’t nervous when I headed to the Combine.
I wasn’t nervous for the draft, my first training camp, or the first time I took the field as an NFL player.