Page 1 of 4th and Goal
Lilly Geddes 1.
“She is so talented, Conner. You should see her tumbling passes.” I gush, speaking about one of our incoming freshman cheerleaders. “Daya Moul is Olympic level, but she has no desire to enter the international stage. She wants to be a schoolteacher!” I lean back in my chair, the sounds of the busy restaurant around us filtering back in. My boyfriend, Conner, mirrors my position across the round table, an indulgent smile on his classically handsome face.
We’ve been dating for almost 7 months. He’s an investment banker and I’m the Athletics Department Director of Public Relations at the university. I was a student first, then an intern, and when I graduated, they offered me a full-time job. About a year ago, before the prior school year began, I was promoted to Director once my boss was promoted to Director of Public Relations for the entire university after his predecessor retired.
“I did see her in action.” His smile grows. “You showed me the other night. Repeatedly.” He starts laughing while my cheeks heat, but I join him. I did do that, I forgot.
“I’m just really excited.” He takes my right hand in his and squeezes it.
“I know you are, sweetheart. And you should be. You’re doing great work.”
“Thank you.” I sip my wine. I’ve monopolized most of our dinner conversation, so I lean forward slightly and ask him, “How’s work? Have you heard anything else about the promotion?”
“I spoke to one of the managing partners yesterday.” He says, barely concealing his own excitement. His blue eyes light up and it makes me smile. This is an adult relationship. It’s not as passionate as my romance books would lead me to believe, but it’s steady, predictable, easy. We’re both focused on our careers, so we spend time together when our schedules line up. Our sex life is…satisfactory. He makes sure I orgasm before he grunts, fills the condom, and scurries off the bed to dispose of it. We kiss goodnight and sleep on our respective sides.
I stop myself from yawning. Jeez, that sounds so much worse than it is. It sounds boring. Is it supposed to be boring? Yes. Most married people I know, including my parents, have safe, stable relationships. Tuesdays is taco night, Thursday is card club, Saturday is a meal out on the town, and everyone’s in bed by 9pm. While I don’t know about their sex lives, because eww, I do know that my parents love each other. They lean on one another in tough times and rejoice in the good, they celebrate the wins and hold each other through the losses. That’s how it’s supposed to be, right?
Conner is romantic in his own way. I only have one other relationship to compare it to, but that was the fumblings of youth…8 years ago. Conner buys me flowers; he delivers them to me personally on his lunches. Seems interested in my job, where I work. He’s invested in me.
“And what did he say?” I prompt.
“My promotion is as good as done. I’ve been given a…troublesome client. If I can get them in line, the promotion, raise, and new office are mine.”
My brows furrow. “Get them in line? What does that mean?”
He waves off my concern. “She’s headstrong, thinks she knows more about money management than we do.”
“How so?”
“She’s insistent on investing in certain companies that we do not recommend.”
“It’s her money, though, right? Surely, she should have the final say about where it’s invested?”
His lips tip down in a pitying smile that turns my stomach. “You two would get along. But no. While we certainly take their requests under advisement, if it’s a poor financial decision, we won’t allow the investment to take place.”
I don’t understand. I must be missing something. If someone wanted to invest in a business, with their own money, isn’t it their call to make? Yes, an investment banker would guide them, push them toward sound financial decisions, but it’s still their money.
“Why are her choices unacceptable?”
“They’re…emotional decisions.” I stare at Conner, waiting for him to elaborate. With a sigh, he continues, “She doesn’t want to put any money into one of the most successful stocks on the market, because she disagrees with ‘their culture’.”
My lips turn down in a frown, “Is she racist?”
“No, she thinks the company will go under soon because of their unfair business practices, and lack of diversity.”
“So, the opposite.” I chuckle, then it hits me. “Wait, you want her to invest in a company like this?”
“I know you don’t understand how the market works, sweetheart, but believe me, this is a great company to investin, with a guaranteed return. She’s being stubborn, wanting to support women-led startups, inclusive businesses with sustainable initiatives. She’s a hippy with too much money. I’ll get her in line, and then I’ll get my promotion.” My stomach sinks at his words. This isn’t a side of him I’ve seen before. He squeezes my hand again. “And then I’ll finally take you on vacation to celebrate.” His eyes heat as they roam over my cleavage. “I’m thinking somewhere warm, I’d love to see you in a bikini.”
I’m not entirely sure how to respond, and gratefully, don’t have to when a shadow covers our table. I glance up, expecting the server, and am pleasantly surprised to find Brody Zeigler. I jump up and throw my arms around him, so happy to see him. He’s been on vacation with his family for a couple of weeks and I’ve missed seeing him around the athletic complex.
“Brody! When did you get back?” His thick arms wrap around my waist and hold me to him for a few beats, rocking us back and forth as he hums. He’s like a big bear. But you know, not deadly…at least not to me. I’ve seen him in action a few times around the stadium and he’s definitely a force to be reckoned with. And hot! But I would never tell anyone that, let alone him. That’s incredibly unprofessional. I’ve known him since I was an intern and we’ve become friends over the years. Honestly, one of my best friends.
I work a lot.
“Lilly? Let go of him.” I drop my arms from around his muscular neck and step back, my eyes wide in shock at Conner’s tone. “Thank you.” He grits out, pointedly looking at me, before schooling his expression into something bland and holding his hand out for Brody to shake. “Mr. Zeigler.”
Brody’s dark brows slant, his lips twitching. I bit my own bottom lip to stop from laughing. They’ve met several times, why is Conner being so formal? “Conner.” I snort but cover it with a cough.
