Beauty and the Baller(22)

“Not rude. I don’t have time for this . . .” I wave my hands around at the office. “Extra stuff.” When I played professionally, I never had to worry about answering phones, arranging fundraisers, getting interviews. My agent did it. I just kept my body in top physical form, listened to my coaches, and performed.

Bruno juts his head back in. “Coach, the cheerleaders want to know if we’re doing a big pep rally before the Huddersfield game. Their sponsor wants to do this dance routine to ‘Another One Bites the Dust,’ and I was thinking, you know, we need to be lit too—like jazz it up a bit. Usually, we just walk around the gym in our uniforms and wave. Miss Tyler is nice, but she has certain ideas . . .”

Melinda planned pep rallies last year, but I asked Principal Lancaster at the beginning of the year to find someone else. It just created more time when she was around me.

I point at him. “Bruno. Where are those plays? Sit your butt down, and study. Worry about Wayne Prep, son. Cheerleaders and pep rallies can wait.”

“My girlfriend—”

“Has lice. I don’t care. Locker room. Now.”

He leaves, and I plop down with an exhale, then give Lois a long look. “My birthday party was over the top.”

“It was a small thing.” She tucks her file away in her big purse. “But I understand. I can’t always plan the perfect gig. Apologies. It won’t happen again. Also, I’ve been making sure we send meals over to Bonnie and Toby a couple of times a week. I heard you bought her house, then gave it to her.”

I narrow my eyes. Bonnie’s disability checks weren’t enough to cover her bills. I stepped in this summer to help. Toby needs to know his food and shelter are taken care of. A kid can’t perform if he’s worried about basic needs. “Who told you that?”

“Someone at the bank.”

“That’s confidential information.”

She gives me a half smile. “Nothing is secret in Blue Belle.”

Fine. I’m not surprised. I wave it off . . . “Lois. The women you invited to my house—”

“Were so sweet! Don’t you love how Texas girls can cook? Those coconut-battered shrimp . . . delicious! I saw you chowing down. It was unfortunate that Jenny showed up. I mean, y’all broke it off in New York—that’s what you told me—but she never got the message. It’s good she saw you with Melinda. Jenny really isn’t your type. You need—”

“No more matchmaking.”

“Don’t you get lonely in that big house? With that ugly dog?”

“Football is why I came to Blue Belle. It’s why you hired me. I don’t want every woman in town throwing their hat in for me.”

“Noted, but here’s the problem: Melinda is smitten. She’s a teacher here, and dealing with her is a slippery slope. Her dad is our biggest booster. Plus, you want to maintain a decent working relationship with her.”

“No relationship.”

She sighs. “We don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m still here, Lois,” I say in an exasperated tone.

“But I want you to stay forever. For Milo.” She pulls out her inhaler and toys with it.

“He’s going to be fine next year if I don’t come back. Hell, we don’t even know if I’m leaving or not, but you’re trying to set me up. And it’s not just you. Everyone is. The checkout lady at the Piggly Wiggly put three different phone numbers in my bag. A woman at Ace Hardware followed me out to my car last week. I can’t go anywhere without someone suggesting I meet their daughter or niece or cousin.” I exhale. “I was clear with the board from the beginning. I signed a yearly contract for a reason.”

“How do you feel about Escalades? In black? Or we could give you a bonus?”

“No.”

She bites her lip. “Fine, but I can’t stop a moving train, Ronan.”

“What do you mean?”

“Melinda claims to be in love.”

Jesus! No! That’s just not true. She’s just caught up in the competitive nature of being the one to snag the coach . . .

The landline rings, and I curse, pick it up, and then hang it up.

Lois gives me a smile. “What did you think of Nova? You know, as a neighbor?”

I pause, remembering that first kiss in the elevator, the fact that I hadn’t touched a woman in a year—

For the past few days, I’ve been circling around that night, waffling from being pissed off that she was part of a plot to wanting to, shit, atone for how it ended? Fuck if I know. The best thing to do is pretend we don’t know each other.

“She’s beautiful . . .” Lois keeps talking, but I’ve zoned out as I think back over the past few years with women. I’ve shunned commitments, isolating part of myself for simple self-preservation. No serious entanglements means no anguish, no responsibility for someone else’s safety. Jenny once said my heart was made of stone, and I guess she’s right. I’m just a lurker, watching the world go by as I coach football. I can easily go on like this for the rest of my life.

“Not interested in her.” I stand, grab my clipboard, and put the whistle around my neck.

She follows me out the door. “Funny. I didn’t ask you if you were interested.”