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“Looking for Dad? Like he disappeared?” I’m confused as I try to clarify what he’s asking.
“I guess he told her he was meeting me for drinks and he was out longer than she was expecting and not getting back to her. So she hit me up.”
“Was he with you?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Not sure why he would’ve involved me in whatever lie he’s telling.”
“Yeah, that seems a little suspect, but let’s not jump to any conclusions. What’s the second thing?”
“Wait. You don’t want to, like, dissect what the fuck is going on with our parents?” he asks.
I chuckle. “Not really. If Dad’s getting some ass on the side, that’s between them and not something I need taking up space in my brain.”
He makes a face like he’s going to barf at the thought of it.
“See? That’s why I don’t need it taking up brain space. So what else did you need to discuss?”
“Can I borrow some cash?” he asks.
I lean back in my chair. “Borrow some cash? For what?”
“I may have made a dumb bet and gotten myself into a little trouble.”
I heave out a sigh. Maybe bringing my little brother to Vegas wasn’t the best move, but once camp starts in a few weeks, he won’t have time to make stupid bets. “How much are we talking?”
“Two fifty.”
“Two hundred fifty dollars?” Yeah, that I can swing.
“Two hundred fifty thousand dollars,” he clarifies.
I balk at that. “What the fuck kind of bet did you make?”
“Look, I could go somewhere else and get more people involved, or you can just fork it over and we call it a day.”
“You say borrow as if you’ll pay it back,” I say.
“And I will. You know I’m good for it.”
I sigh. He signed a contract with guaranteed money, but the signing bonus is to be paid out in equal installments. So he’s gotten some of his guaranteed money, but not all of it yet.
I don’t want to get involved, and my gut tells me this is a dumb idea…but he’s more than just some player on my team. He’s my little brother, and I feel responsible for him in a way that I don’t feel about my other players.
I want to take care of him…and I don’t want him causing trouble in the off-season when we’re weeks away from making our first impression as two brothers on the same team. It’s the first time a head coach has coached his brother, and people will be watching us closely this season because of it.
“Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll talk to my financial manager and get it to you by the close of business today.”
“Thanks, man. You’re a real lifesaver.” He stands to leave, and I shake my head.
I give him the look that says sit your ass back down, and he does.
I lean forward and lower my voice to a hiss. “I’ll give you the money, but I need to know what kind of bet you made that costs a quarter of a million dollars. It’s not just you out there, you know. You’re representing me, too, and I don’t need you making me look like an idiot because you can’t handle yourself.”
“I know, I know. I fucked up, okay? I got in over my head in a high-stakes poker game.”
“Yeah, I’d say that’s fucking up pretty badly.”
“I started with a good run, and it just…” he shrugs. “It got out of hand fast. They were pros and they saw how they could shake me down.” He’s pleading innocence, but I don’t buy it.
