Page 44 of The Rookie's Sister

Starting with having a brutally honest chat about where his skills are lacking. Then reviewing game tape to analyze what slows him down on the field. And finally, coordinating extra practices with Xavier to sharpen Jeff’s abilities before next week.

My pulse kicks up, plans and contingencies already churning in my mind. This is my element—work the problem, find solutions. It’s the only way I know to grapple with challenges too big to face head-on.

If I can somehow get Jeff up to speed before next Sunday, we might just survive this.

The weight of the revelation presses down on me, making my office feel claustrophobic. Every rational part of me screams to dive into work, to lay down strategies to ensure Jeff’s success on the field. But the emotional turmoil of the situation—the genuine possibility of not just Jeff, but myself being uprooted and the budding relationship with Xavier being severed—threatens to overwhelm me.

I need to tell Jeff. He deserves to know. But how do I drop such a bombshell, especially with Dad’s recent health scare? The stress could be detrimental to his recovery.

Distractedly, I grab my phone to check for any new messages. Maybe there’s a reprieve, some good news waiting for me. But all I see is a missed call and a message from Holly. She wants to know how last night went. I’m not in the mood to rehash the details, but the offer for lunch is tempting. Perhaps some distance from the office and a chat with Holly could provide some clarity.

A half hour later, seated across from Holly at our favorite restaurant, I prod at my salad, appetite all but gone.

“Alright, out with it. You’re glowing, but you also look like you just lost your best friend,” Holly says, eyeing me from across the table at our go-to lunch spot. The ambiance is usually soothing, but today it feels stifling.

I smirk, sipping my iced tea. “Let’s just say last night was... eye-opening, in more ways than one.”

Holly grins, but then narrows her eyes. “Okay, you’re clearly dodging the main issue. What’s up?”

I sigh, setting down my glass. “You remember how I mentioned Jeff’s shaky position on the team? It’s gotten worse. They’re talking about trading him.”

“Damn, Emma. That’s heavy,” Holly says. “I’ve heard rumors, but I didn’t know it had escalated to that point.”

“Yeah, well, it has,” I reply, my voice tinged with bitterness. “And if Jeff goes, I go. Say goodbye to whatever is budding between me and Xavier. Not to mention Dad. How am I supposed to tell him this without making his heart condition worse?”

Holly pauses, contemplating her words. “Look, I get that you’re in the middle of a perfect storm right now. But let’s be real—you can’t control the business side of football. All you can do is make sure Jeff is as prepared as possible for next week.”

I nod, taking a deep breath. “You’re right. It’s just that my mind’s a mess right now. Between my father’s health scare, Jeff’s career hanging by a thread, and whatever is happening with Xavier, it’s a lot to process.”

“I can imagine,” Holly says sympathetically. “But hey, you’ve got some sway in the office, and so do I. Let’s use it to our advantage. What can we do to make sure Jeff nails it next week?”

“We?” I ask, my eyebrows rising.

“Yes, ‘we,’” Holly says, rolling her eyes. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, even if you are dating Mr. Hotshot receiver. Besides, I don’t want my best friend shipped off to another city.”

I chuckle, grateful for the levity. “Well, if we’re brainstorming, first things first: Jeff needs more field time. We need to work on his reaction time and his playbook knowledge.”

“Got it,” Holly says, pulling out her phone and making a note. “I’ll talk to the coaching staff. We’ll get him extra practice sessions.”

I nod, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “I’ll sit him down for a film review. Maybe Xavier can join. He’s been mentoring Jeff.”

“See? You’re already formulating a plan,” Holly says, giving me a reassuring smile. “This is doable, Emma. It will not be easy, but it’s doable.”

“Yeah,” I agree, feeling slightly less overwhelmed. “It’s just a lot riding on one game.”

“Welcome to professional sports,” Holly says, raising her glass. “Where everything can change in a single play.”

We clink glasses, sealing our pact to do whatever it takes to keep Jeff—and by extension, me—where we belong. It’s a long shot, but it’s a shot. And right now, that’s all I can ask for.

TWENTY

XAVIER

The shrill blast of the referee’s whistle pierces the humid air as I run through passing drills with Jeff on the empty practice field. He’s drenched in sweat but laser-focused, snagging each bullet pass I fire his way. The kid’s clearly been hitting the gym, his lanky frame filling out with taut muscle.

“Nice grab,” I call out as he twists and leaps to catch a high floater. His hands clamp down and cradle the ball into his chest before he lands in a controlled three-point stance.

Jeff grins, panting as he tosses the ball back. “Getting the hang of this whole ‘catching impossible passes’ thing.”

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