Page 5 of The Silent Count
Ladybug:Forty-Two minutes on the dot.
Ladybug:You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes.
The cornerof my mouth inches upward, knowing ‘Ladybug’ has no idea that I’ve seen her sneer hundreds of times over the years.
Ladybug:How many clients are you coaching today?
Lucky Charm:Only one today. New client. Haven’t met with her before.
Ladybug:Oh, they’re a girl?
Lucky Charm:You jealous, Ladybug?
Ladybug:Never really been the jealous type.
Lucky Charm:Noted.
* * *
There’sa twisting sensation in the pit of my stomach as I approach Lea’s office. While it might be our first time talking one-on-one in person, we’ve had countless conversations hidden behind a screen over the last few years. The knot forming in my stomach might have to do with the fact that she has no idea I’ve been the person on the other end of our messages this entire time.
Her coworker. One of her father’s star players.
It all began around three and a half years ago when I responded to a post in a football gossip forum that was inquiring about a player who was traded from Miami to New York. Rumors had been flying around The League, suggesting our new cornerback at the time had been distributing pictures of Miami’s playbook. The original poster was looking for proof. Concrete evidence that could get the guy fined, remind him he isn’t invincible, so he doesn’t pull that kind of shit again.
It must’ve been the poster’s lucky day, because I was one of the few people who had the proof. Now, I’m not one who typically spends my time perusing on rumor forums, but during free agency it’s hard not to let curiosity get the best of you. It isn’t a secret that people in and around The League pop into this forum from time to time. They want to ride the high from being the first to brag about unreleased information. If anyone was going to be the first to find out about me getting picked up by a new team, I wanted it to be me. Even if it meant I had to go searching for it myself.
I’m not typically in the business of getting caught ratting out my teammates, so I lied to Lea and told her I was a former strength and conditioning coach for the team. She might’ve bought it, considering one of our longtime trainers was let go the week before. And I didn’t feel bad about releasing the information because that cornerback was a jackass.
What I didn’t expect, though, was for the conversation with a stranger to flow so easily. Nor did I expect the two of us would continue talking about players we knew, and scandals they got themselves into for days after that initial conversation. Even now, what surprises me most of all is that we’ve continued talking nearly every day. For over three years straight.
The biggest shock of all came right after signing when I realized Ladybug—my pen pal, my friend—was the fiery redhead who I had my eye on when I walked in the building.
My heart pounds in my ears as I rap my knuckles against Lea’s door and poke my head through the doorway. She must not hear me, because she’s laser focused on her computer screen, tongue pushing into her cheek as her fingers fly across her keyboard. The corner of my lips lift and I can’t help but wonder if she takes a similar stance when she’s messaging with me at night.
There’s a part of me that hopes she’s smiling down at the screen instead. That she lets out huffs of laughter the same way I do when we banter back and forth. I like to think that’s the case, but any time I try to catch a glimpse of her when she’s on her phone, she always maintains the same expressionless look. If she is being unprofessional, like texting friends on the job—which I know from experience that she does often—she never lets it show on her face. Instead, she always keeps the same poised composure no matter the circumstance.
I step into the room, clearing my throat to grab her attention. When she finally looks up at me, she sucks in a sharp gasp. “Hi,” she breathes out, a bit flustered, like she wasn’t expecting to see me yet.
“Coach said you wanted to talk with me?”
“Right. Why don’t you take a seat?” She gestures to the bucket chairs in front of her desk, and I drop into one, making myself comfortable.
I’ve eavesdropped enough on locker room talk to know most players who end up in one of these seats are in for a long day. The only difference is they’re called in here because they made shit decisions that Lea has to clean up. I’d venture to say most of these guys deserve the wrath filled lecture she gives them.
“First-time offender. How does it feel?” Lea leans back in her chair with a pleased smile, folding her arms over her chest in a way that makes her cleavage more prominent. She rakes her gaze over me like a battalion commander performing an inspection.
I enjoy having her eyes on me. Being the focus of her concern for once. Maybe this is why my teammates continue to act out repeatedly. So they can spend a couple of hours being the focal point of Lea Sterling’s attention.
“Not entirely sure what to expect, but I’d like to believe it won’t be as bad as my teammates led me to believe.”
“Don’t worry, Parker, I’ll go easy on you.” Lea shoots me a teasing wink that makes my pulse race. Damn, do I wish I was hearing those words breeze past her lips in a different context. Preferably one where she’s on her knees, looking up at me with those whiskey eyes as she undoes my belt.
The two of us hold eye contact for an extended moment, tension filling the room with each passing second. Her office isn’t big by any means, but the walls suddenly feel like they’re closing in on us. While I highly doubt I can fluster the queen of composure, I’m willing to take my chance.
Lea keeps her eyes on mine as I sink back into the chair, but drops her gaze to the thumb that’s trying to brush off the overly smug smile passing over my lips. A smirk slides up one-half of her face as she leans forward and taps her fingers on the edge of her desk. “Well then… let’s get started, shall we?”
There’s a manilla file folder next to her mouse with my former name written across the top in swirly cursive letters. The file itself is maybe a quarter of an inch thick, if that, which I can only assume is thanks to my effort to stay out of the media’s eye. Makes me wonder how mine compares to some of my other teammates, though. I’m sure I’d get a kick out of seeing October’s folder stacked next to mine. Although, he’s kept to himself since the season started, which is a surprise considering his reputation. I’ve got a feeling it has something to do with the legs for days blonde whose pool house he’s been living in for the last few months.
