Ballers: His Game (Ballers Series Book 1)(31)



I can’t blame Tamara for not saying she loves me back. I haven’t shown her that I have a right to her love. I keep messing things up.

I rushed out of the weight room as soon as Tamara told me what was going on. I didn’t stop to shower or change. Meaning I’m pissed, I smell, and I have on workout gear. I never thought I could be more pissed than when my baby cried in my arms because that little snot nose kid called her a name. This tops that ten times over.

I tug on my baseball cap and throw on a pair of shades and jump out of my truck. When my security guys spot me they rush to usher me into the school. When we step inside there is a little redhead standing in front of the receptionist desk. She is patting her hair and fidgeting with her clothes.

“Hello, Mr. Monroe. I’m Daly Cynthia,” she blushes ten shades of red. Her eyes pinch shut and she brushes her hands down the sides of her jeans. She clears her throat and holds her hand out. “Excuse me; I’m Cynthia Daly the program coordinator. I have Brielle in my office with one of the teacher’s assistants. She is still quite upset.”

It is clear that she is nervous and possibly a fan, but I need to get to my little girl. I nod at her curtly and she turns on her heels to lead the way to her office. When she opens the door I spot Ellie right away in the arms of a woman that is trying hard to sooth her with no success. Ellie peeks up through her tear soaked lashes and jumps from the woman’s arms.

I catch her as she leaps in the air toward me locking her in my arms where I know she is safe. Her little body is shaking in my arms, tearing at my heart. Her little sobs are destroying me.

“Daddy, I’m so happy you’re here. I was so scared,” Ellie sobs.

“It’s okay, Sugar. You’re safe now,” I murmur as I kiss her head repeatedly.

“I want to go home.”

“First you have to do daddy a favor and quit all this crying. Then we can go home and sneak some chocolate ice cream. That’ll get that pretty little smile back on my baby’s face, won’t it,” I ask looking into those eyes that are so much like mine.

“Can I have sprinkles?”

“We’ll see,” A laugh rumbles in my chest.

I pull my wallet from my pocket and hand over my ID to the nervous redhead, who is watching Ellie and me with wide eyes. She snaps out of it and takes the ID, rushing out of the room. She is back a moment later with a photo copy in one hand and my ID in the other. I take the ID back placing it back into my wallet.

“Is there anything else,” I ask.

She swallows nervously and nods her head waving me to follow her. We walk back to the reception desk where she retrieves a white binder from the receptionist. She scribbles in some information then turns the book to me.

“Please sign here.”

I scroll my name in the book and put the pen down. The director is chewing on her lip looking like she is going to be sick. I pull my shades off and look at her quizzically.

“This has never happened before and I’m afraid we aren’t prepared to handle something like this. I think maybe it’s a good idea if Brielle stays home a few days until things settle down,” she says blushing beet red.

“I think it is fair to say that this will be Ellie’s last day here. I will make a check out for the month for any inconvenience, but as you aren’t prepared for this type of thing I think its best her mother and I find some place that is,” I retort.

The poor woman looks deflated. She starts to wring her hands and nods her head. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Brielle is loved here. We will be sorry to see her go. I guess we should go get her things,” she says with sincere sadness.

I start to feel that I may have been a little harsh and rash in my words. I know putting Ellie in a different day care now would be best, but I also know Tamara would have wanted to make that decision. I can’t seem to stop digging holes today, but this one is about our baby’s safety. I will stand on my decision now.

Cynthia leads us to Ellie’s class and we clean out her cubby. The teacher and assistants all fawn over Ellie, wishing her well and saying their goodbyes as news spreads that Ellie will not be returning. Their words to Ellie are heartfelt and sincere, but it does not stop them from ogling me. It is a little uncomfortable to have my daughter’s teachers drooling at me.

Once Ellie’s things are packed up I scoop her up in my arms and grab her now overstuffed bag. Cynthia walks us toward the door looking like she is going to faint.

“Excuse me Mr. Monroe, but I am such a big fan and if I don’t ask it is going to haunt me. Can I please have your autograph,” Cynthia asks as we near the door.

I chuckle. “It’s Brad and sure no problem.” I am in a better mood now that I have Ellie and she is calm.

“Brad, okay,” she gushes pulling a sticky pad from her back pocket and a sharpie from another. “Thank you so much. I’m so glad you decided to come back home and play. I followed your career in college as well.”

I autograph her sticky note and hand it back to her with the pen. “Thanks for the support. Miss. Daly –,”

“Oh please, Cynthia,” she interrupts me.

“I would appreciate if you and everyone here would respect my family and our privacy. Please don’t go out there sharing anything disclosed to you in confidence and if your staff could do the same it would be great. Maybe I can get the kids here in for a field trip at the stadium for your cooperation,” I offer.

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