Page 40 of Well Played

“Because she was using protection?” Willow asks the question that’s haunted me.

“I know her affair started before our wedding, and as much as I hate what it did to me, I’m happy they’ve found each other. I just wish she’d been honest with me. I think she didn’t want to risk another pregnancy.”

“So, if and when this thing between us becomes public, we can talk about having children?” Willow asks and I want to fist pump the air.

“Absolutely, although I’d prefer to put a ring on your finger before the little terror comes into the world and disrupts our sleep.”

“I like the sound of that.”

I want to tell this woman, I love her, I really do. But now isn’t the right time.

“I have to go,” I say, stretching out and kicking away the sheet.

“To this mysterious job that you can’t talk about.”

“To a mysterious job that I will tell you about as soon as I am legally allowed to.”

“Oh, I forgot to ask … have the Flying Foxes changed their mind about offering you that coaching position?”

I freeze, my heart pounding. “Why? What have you heard?”

“Only that they're about to make an announcement today. Rumors were trending online last night after you fell asleep. Does that impact you?”

I consider how she phrased the question. Does it impact me? “It could. I'll talk to you tonight.”

By the timeI reach Lloyd’s office, a recently retired player and one I respect the hell out of is sitting in my usual seat.

“Bronx,” Lloyd says, standing. “Come on in. I assume introductions aren’t necessary?”

“Bronx Parker, good to see you again bro,” BenedictMaverickChristenson extends his hand. “I hear you’re going be our new coach. Congrats.”

The handshake turns into a solid bro hug. “Good to see you, been a minute.” I look at look Lloyd for an explanation. “I thought Maverick retired.” News of his failed recovery after surgery and his subsequent disappearance has trended for weeks.

“Retired as a player,” Maverick agrees with a smile. “But, let's just say, while you’re fighting the battles on the field, I’ll have your back in the boardroom.”

“Gentlemen, let’s sit.” Lloyd motions for us to join him at the conference table that is already filled with stacks of files markedBranding, Governance, Launch, andFinancials. “Later today, the Flying Foxes are going to hand back their rugby league license. I have it on good authority the national commission will invite me to put together a team for next season.”

“It's happening,” I say, bolting upright and punching the air. “Hell, the fuck, yeah.”

Lloyd doesn’t smile, pushing a copy of an email towards me. “Not so fast. We’ll get the license. The Southern Mavericks will field a team, but they want us to go to Vegas for the season launch.”

My stomach plummets. “That takes the logistics to a whole new level. We’ll need to get the players there early and acclimatized. We need to arrange training facilities. We need to …”

“Logistics are my responsibility,” Maverick says. “I’ll work closely with you and the other coaching staff to make it happen.”

“You might as well tell him,” Lloyd says to Maverick. “It’ll save confusion in the long run.”

“I don't go by Maverick anymore.”

“The Southern Mavericks are named after Maverick and will build on his reputation on the field. But this is Benedict’s new career and comes with a new name.”

“Outside of football, my friends have always called meBenz.”

I stare. The name suits him. He’s replaced the training sweats with a suit and even his hair screamsboardroom. “Okay then, good to meet you,Benz.” I offer my hand. “I'm still Bronx, the same asshole who kicked your ass on the field and the same asshole who’ll turn individuals into a team of Mavericks.”

“Then welcome to the world of thirty-hour days and eight-day weeks.” Benz meets me eyeball-to-eyeball and he’s not joking. “We have one hell of a job to do.”

It takestwo days for Benz and I to agree on a top thirty list of players we want to target.

---