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I swipe at an errant tear that escapes at his words. “Yeah, Dad. Thank you. I need to get down to the press conference.”
“Good luck,” he says.
“Thanks. Love you.”
“Love you more.” He cuts the call, and my eyes move back to the chair.
My dad’s words linger in my mind. Do what you have to do to keep that position.
He’s right.
I’m just not sure what exactly I’ll need to do to keep it…or how I can use it to run Lincoln Nash out of my town.
CHAPTER 15: LINCOLN
I can’t pretend like I wasn’t affected by seeing her again.
I can’t pretend like I’m not curious what her life is like now.
Is she married? Does she have kids? Is she happy?
Those are all questions I lost the right to know the answer to back when I was forced to end things with her.
I’ve avoided following her life story even though curiosity has pulsed in me on more than one occasion.
I’ve thought about looking her up on social media, but I didn’t have the heart to type in her name. Because what if she is happy? What if she’s married with kids and enjoying life…without me?
So what if we were young? We still made plans. We still believed our future was one.
Instead, our families tore that future into two totally separate paths that were so painful I couldn’t bear knowing whatever became of her.
I knew certain things—that she was in Vegas, that her father opened a restaurant, that she was in journalism. But the Bailey name didn’t cross the Nashes tongues once the court case was settled, and eventually we got to a point where it was history buried in the past. Nobody on the Falcons knew about my former relationship with her once I got into my coaching position there, and all the details sort of just faded away with time. Nobody brought her name up to me anymore because nobody really knew there was a history to bring up.
I sit in my office in silence for a few beats, regrouping and focusing on the press conference ahead.
There’s a knock at my door, and when I glance up, a woman I’ve never seen before stands there.
“Lincoln Nash?” she asks.
My brows knit together as I stand. “Yes?”
She stumbles a little as she walks into the office, and she glares back at the spot of the offense as if there was someone standing there that leapt from the floor specifically to make her trip.
“That dang snag gets me every time,” she huffs a little as she walks toward me.
I can’t help a little chuckle. I have no idea who she is, but I already find her to be charming, and clearly she’s been in this office before.
“I’m Ellie Dalton. Luke’s wife, Jack’s sister-in-law. I believe he mentioned to you that I’m a publicist?” She stops at the backside of my desk and reaches across it to offer a hand to me, and I shake it.
“He did, and it’s nice to meet you.”
“You too. Are you looking for representation?” she asks, cutting right to the chase.
“I don’t currently have publicity. I didn’t really need it as an offensive coordinator. Do I need it as a head coach?” I sit, and she does, too.
I realize asking that question to a publicist is probably dumb, but I want to hear her spiel and figure out if she’s a good fit for the job.
“Look, I know you have a press conference to get to, so I’ll be quick. My job is to present my clients in a positive light to the general public whether that’s in managing socials, coaching prior to press conferences, bridging relationships with the media, smoothing over any potential blunders, and assisting with marketing and sponsorships. There are really so many advantages to having someone on your side who knows the field, and I’ve been doing this for a few years now exclusively with the Aces, so I’m privy to some insider tips that could help manage team relations, too, if you’d be so inclined as to want that.” She offers a grin, and I can’t help but smile back.
