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I’m at the office, naturally, playing with the tablet from FDB. It does have some interesting features that helped us in our preparations against the Lions, and this week we’re heading to Cincinnati. I’ve been looking at different scenarios in particular with Brandon Fletcher, who could probably be great if he could manage to keep his personal life out of the headlines, and I have a solid game plan in place.
And that’s when a text comes through.
Jolene: Can I see you today?
Players aren’t in today, and my plan is to meet with my coordinators as we devise our strategy for the week. But I think it’s pretty solid given what I’ve been doing on this tablet, and I’m sold on the system.
Especially given what Jack told me.
Me: I have meetings from ten until one. I would love to see you.
What I really mean is I would love to tell you what Jack helped me do. I would love to show you that you can trust me. I would love to get you back in my life.
But I’ll tell her all that in person.
Jolene: Can I come by your office at two?
Me: I’ll be here waiting.
I meet with Mike and Andy. I meet with Steve. I call in a couple players and meet with them...including Brandon, who I inform needs to come up with a plan to correct the image regarding his personal life. I give him Ellie’s number so he can get some advice since clearly his own publicist is failing.
It’s hard to issue that advice given my own scandals, but his newest scandals are keeping my name out of the media, anyway.
I even squeeze in a workout.
By one-thirty, I’m back at my desk waiting for her. Nerves flitter around my chest as my eyes keep flicking to my clock.
I can’t wait to see her. It’s been far too long, and hope explodes within me that we’re finally going to get back on track. It might take some time for her to trust me again. It might take some time to rebuild what we had. But my father is out of the way now since I want nothing to do with him, and I want her to know that I will never put him or his lies first again. Ever.
The clock inches closer to two, and about ten minutes before she’s set to get here, Asher appears in my doorway.
“Asher,” I say, setting down my tablet. “You can’t be here. You’re suspended.”
His face is, well, ashen, and he looks downright terrified.
I’ve never seen him like this.
I lift to a stand, and some papers shift around on my desk. “Ash. What is it?”
“It’s Dad.”
My chest tightens. “What happened?”
“He’s in the hospital.”
“Jesus,” I mutter.
“It’s bad, Linc. Really bad.” He rubs his forehead. “And it’s all my fault.”
I don’t want to go. I want to stay here. I want to talk to Jolene. The last person I want to see is my father.
But Asher is panicked. He’s here in this building when he’s suspended, and he knows he could be fined for that. I need to get him out of here.
I’m doing this for my brother, not for my father.
“Let’s go,” I say.
We take the stairs down to the parking lot, and I hop into Asher’s car with him.
