Page 7 of Sealing the Deal

Mama shakes her head. “Commendable. But it won’t do any good. The likes of Grayson Ashborne won’t care about the fans.”

Jake drops his head into his hands. “So he cuts back the community outreach and sells the training ground, but what about the team?”

Mama squeezes Jake’s arm. “We don’t know, honey. My guess would be that the team will limp on, but he’ll start making trades of our best players.”

Jake looks up, and the sadness in his eyes hurts to see. “I’ve got two good years left if I don’t get injured. I don’t wanna play anywhere else.”

“Chase won’t, either,” Dylan says. “But you know as well as I do, it won’t be your choice.”

My shoulders tighten another notch. I hate seeing how much this news is destroying this family. The Stormhawks mean everything to them, as well as to me. Dylan was drafted to the Stormhawks straight from college and spent his entire career in the team. He might be a rancher now, but he’s still involved in their community outreach program, giving underprivileged kids access to football and coaching. I can tell by the worry in his eyes, he’s thinking of all the kids and families who are going to suffer when the program gets shut down.

And Jake and Chase won’t get to play side by side anymore, and could be sent anywhere in the country, far away from Oakwood Ranch and home and family. It isn’t right.

“Rookies will get rushed into starting roles because it’s cheaper, and we’ll be left exposed and torn apart every game,” I add, a lump forming in my throat. The Stormhawks might survive on paper. But they’ll never be the heart of Denver again once Grayson Ashborne is through with them.

We fall silent, lost to our emotions and spiraling thoughts. I drink my coffee, trying to process what the future is going to look like and failing.

Izzy swipes her phone. “He doesn’t look much like the devil, but I guess that’s the point, right?”

She turns the screen of her phone to show us a photo of Grayson Ashborne.

I freeze.

My mouth drops open.

My breath catches in my lungs as I stare at the photo, brain malfunctioning.

New York billionaire, ruthless businessman, new majority owner of the Stormhawks, and…

“You have got to be kidding me!”

All eyes turn to me.

“What is it?” Izzy asks.

“That’s the guy!”

Dylan looks from the screen back to me. “What guy?”

Jake snaps his fingers. “From the bar.”

“He was the guy who helped out last night,” I hiss.

Izzy gasps. “Grayson Ashborne was the hot guy? Why was he at The Hay Barn?”

I don’t have an answer. The only thing I know for sure is that Grayson Ashborne is currently the most hated man in Denver. And I’m the idiot who let him behind my bar.

FOUR

GRAYSON

The parking lot of the Stormhawks stadium should be close to empty at this time on a Friday morning. No team training here today. No events. Just management and backroom staff.

It should be close to empty. But instead, it’s chaos.

Trucks are parked by the entrance to the lot, creating a single path for vehicles to drive toward the imposing curved walls of the stadium, where a crowd is already shouting. Just like they were yesterday, and the day before that. My driver, Hunter, slows the black town car, which even with the tinted windows feels like a giant flashing beacon, shouting as loud as the protesters, “Here’s the idiot billionaire who bought a football team.”

In the crowd, placards bob above winter coats and knit hats. Stark white boards slashed with red lettering, big enough for me to read from all the way back here. Snowflakes drift in the air around them and settle on the icy ground.