Page 151 of Lucky Shot

“You’re a long way from home.”

“I am, but I go where there’s talent.”

Talent. I glance over my shoulders at the thirty or so sixteen- and seventeen-year-old kids. These kids are the best of the best here, but none of them are ready to play at the professional level.

“And you came here?” Skepticism peppers my tone.

“I did.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “Why?”

A slow smile crawls over his weathered face. “I was warned you were a tough nut to crack.”

Warned?

“I’m sorry, Mr. Garrett, but I’m in the middle of a training session. I don’t mean to be rude, but is there a point here?”

“Yes. A substantial one. I’m here to gauge your interest in a coaching position with my organization.”

I think I must blink fifty times as I process what he’s saying.

“Um, take a water break,” I say to the players before turning back to him. “I think you have the wrong person.”

His smile is as bright as the white tufts of hair sticking out beneath his cap. “Nope. I don’t. I’ve watched film on you and done my research. I know exactly who I’m looking at, and I was hoping you’d allow me some time to discuss my findings and my proposal.”

“Right now?”

“I’m on your turf, Miss Barnes. Literally. You tell me when you’re available to talk, and I’ll be there.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

Hardy

I toss my keys on the table when I walk into the penthouse. My body is tired, and my head’s spinning from my conversation with Lennox.

So much to think about. So much still left in the air.

What I don’t expect is to walk down the hall and see Whitney sitting on my couch, looking like a steam engine about to combust. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and her eyebrows are raised.

Someone’s been stewing about something, and no doubt, I’m about to feel the wrath of it.

“Whit. Didn’t expect you home until later tonight. Didn’t you have a game?”

Her jaw is clenched, and her stare is hard. “So this was your plan?”

“What? To come home and take a shower? Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

I hold my hands up in surrender. “Whatever you think I did, I did,” I say playfully and chuckle. “Can we kiss and make up now?”

“You set this all up, didn’t you?” She rises from the couch.

“Care to let me in on what’s going on?”

“You set this up because to make this work, I’m supposed to cave and follow you. I’m supposed to give up the life and relationships I’ve built here.”

“Whitney? A little help?” I ask, but I’m now pretty aware of what happened today.