Page 17 of Unexpectedly Falling
KINSLEY: Also I need details…
NESSA: I will after my meeting xoxo
My phone buzzes againbut this time it’s far less fun.
AGENT: Did you look over my email with the contract?
NESSA: Yes and I want better endorsement options and bonuses. I sent you one of the contracts for a player on the men’s team—it’s got to be closer to that
AGENT: Women’s soccer is not men’s soccer
NESSA: That’s why we need to be tactful before we shatter that glass ceiling
AGENT: I’ll see what I can do
NESSA: The more I get paid—the more you get paid (wink face emoji)
AGENT: As if I could forget
AGENT: I’ll text you when I know more
Throwingmy phone in my purse, I pull open the door and step inside. I’m met with a wall of warm air, and I’m suddenly thankful I didn’t take Jensen’s suggestion for a heavier coat.
“Can I help you?” a pretty woman behind the desk asks. Her hair is light brown and her smile is bright even if it doesn’t reach her eyes. She looks tired, and I have the strangest urge to hug her or buy her a coffee.
“I’m Nessa Hart. I’m looking for Coach Turner.”
A real smile stretches over her lips, and she nods as she reaches for the intercom and announces my arrival.
“There’s been a real buzz about you the last couple of weeks. Coach Turner has been workin’ on this for a long time now, and we’re just so thankful to have your expertise.”
Her praise has me blushing in a way that is completely foreign to me, and I barely get out a shythank youbefore Knox Turner bounds into the room with a grin and a hearty handshake.
“Welcome, welcome, Miss Hart. It is a pleasure havin’ you here.”
“Nessa, please,” I say and he nods, leading us out of the entryway and into the complex. “This setup is pretty impressive,” I say, taking in the space.
“It is. Our teams here are top-notch and the kids work damn hard to keep it that way. We’ve had more than our fair share of professional athletes over the years, but I’ve had a hell of a time getting our soccer program up and running,” he says, looking at me from the corner of his eye.
“And?” I ask, already knowing there’s more.
“And I find myself in the unique position that I don’t have to impress you,” he says with a cheeky grin. “You’re here as a favor, so I feel like we can skip over the formalities.”
“By all means,” I say, my interest more than a little piqued.
“Good, good.” He motions toward the banners hanging from the ceiling, championships forever memorialized on display. “I don’t need help building a winning program, Miss Hart. I’ve done that plenty myself. What I need is a younger perspective on the game. Women’s soccer is gaining popularity, and I don’t want to do these kids a disservice by not preparing them.”
“I’m not sure I’m following.”
Stopping, he turns and faces me, his expression serious. “Being a professional athlete is not for the faint of heart. Look at how your game—the industry—has changed since you started playing. I can’t just send talented players to the next level based on their skill anymore. You’re role models but now it’s not just for the girls who like soccer. The nation is tuning in and they’re wearing your name on their back. I need to prepare them because it’s not just about bein’ on the field anymore.”
“You’re looking for public relations?”
“I want to turn out the kind of athletes you want as your teammates. Tell them the things you wish you knew, how to navigate the stress of going viral and this new level of social media exposure. Yes, the world of professional sports has always been under a microscope but as times change, we must too.”
“Sounds like you’re offering me a job, coach,” I say wryly and he chuckles.
“Say the word and I’ll have a press release before you’ve made it to the lobby.” His eyes twinkle and I know that he’s not kidding, not even a little. “Help me advocate for this new generation of athletes.”
