“I’m very clear on how they get, and it’s handled. Sort of. We’ll have plenty of food and beer in place when it’s time.” She looked at the DVDs her friend held. “Let’s get those into the player.”
They went upstairs to the large viewing room. There were oversize, comfy sofas and chairs, a massive TV and posters of the boys everywhere. There was also plenty of room for food and beer. Larissa loaded the first DVD and pushed Play. After a couple of seconds of blackness, images filled the giant screen.
A very young Jack stood in front of a reporter. Jack’s suit looked painfully new and the jacket pulled across his broad shoulders.
The reporter, a seasoned veteran used to rookies, guided Jack through the interview.
“The L.A. Stallions made it clear they wanted you,” the reporter said. “That must have helped you get through the process.”
Taryn watched as twenty-two-year-old Jack tried not to smile too brightly on camera. But what the hell—he’d just been a first-round draft pick for his dream team. The man deserved to celebrate.
He said all the right things, because someone had taken the time to give him a few pointers. Back then he’d been seen as a way for the losing team to finally start to win some games. But the older, more experienced quarterback had made a comeback, benching Jack for nearly three years. What the impatient young player hadn’t realized was he’d needed the time to refine his game and mature physically. When Jack was given his first shot at starting, he’d already been tested in safe situations and was ready for the responsibility. He’d taken his team to the play-offs six years in a row and had won the Super Bowl.
Taryn had met him the summer between his first and second winning seasons. He’d been hot, in every sense of the word.
Now she looked at the young man he’d been and wondered at the differences.
“He was a baby,” Larissa said with a laugh.
“That he was.”
The DVD played on. The scene switched to Kenny and then Sam having the same conversation, although Kenny hadn’t gone until the second round and Sam had been right after him. Rare for a kicker.
Taryn had seen the interviews dozens of times, but they were still fun to watch. Sam, not wanting to give anything away, and Kenny both excited and concerned. The former because he was going to be a star and the latter because of what was happening at home.
Twenty-two, Taryn thought, doing the math. Kenny was a father-to-be by then. Or so he’d thought.
The door to the TV room opened and the men in question entered. They were older now. All in their mid-thirties. Former players in suits that cost more and fit better. They weren’t as muscled, but they were all still fit.
Jack crossed to Taryn. “You remembered.”
She thought of the red notice on her computer and held in a need to wince. “I know this day is tough for you.”
“A lot of memories.”
She handed him the remotes. They would watch the coverage of their own NFL draft before switching over to view today’s draft live. They would drink beer and tell stories and get absolutely no work done. Which was okay. They’d earned the break.
Taryn left them and went back to her office. She glanced at her phone and saw she’d received a text from Angel. It showed a picture of a rock-climbing wall. At least she assumed that’s what it was. She’d only seen them in the movies or on TV. Next to the picture were a place and time.
She smiled. “You’re not one for picking up the phone, are you?”
A second text came through. You helped me. Now I help you.
A man with a sense of fair play, she thought. That was something she could appreciate.
* * *
LATE SATURDAY MORNING Angel arrived at the sports center by the Lucky Lady Casino and Resort. From what he’d heard, the rock-climbing wall was a new addition. There were plenty of cars parked out front. He maneuvered his Harley to the parking lot on the side, then tucked his helmet under his arm as he headed around front. He saw Taryn walking toward the entrance.
She’d dressed appropriately—a loose T-shirt and some kind of fitted workout pants that left virtually nothing to the imagination. His gaze lingered on the length of her legs and the curve of her butt. He barely noticed her athletic shoes or that she’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail. It was only when he realized she’d come to a stop and had put her hands on her hips that he raised his attention to her face.
Both eyebrows were raised. “Really?” she asked. “You can’t be more subtle?”
Caught red-handed, so to speak, and he had no one to blame but himself, he thought with a grin. “I’m unrepentant. You’re more temptation than the average man can handle.”
“And here I was hoping for better than average.”