Page 8 of Tackle

According to that birth date, Nora Olson was twenty-one, making her Oz’s junior by nine years. If his father had bailed because he’d gotten some other woman pregnant, the dates did seem to align perfectly.

“Not to mention she’s from your neck of the woods.”

Yes, Kansas City was a hop, skip, and a jump from his hometown of Topeka. Everything seemed to add up, making it more than plausible Nora was his half-sister.

Rich kept talking, knowing Oz would jump in if he had any questions. “From where I’m sitting, you have three options. First, you can reach out to her yourself. Or, second, I can call to feel her out first. Or, last, you ignore her all together.”

He was not going to ignore his sister. “I’ll reach out.”

“Word of caution. Just because she’s legit on paper and most likely is your sister, doesn’t mean she’s not trying to make contact in the hopes of a handout. You’re a wealthy guy, Oz, and this world is full of people looking to make a fast buck.”

“She’s not out to use me. Not everyone is as avaricious as jersey chasers.”

Emerson had returned, setting a plate of food down in front of him while giving him a curious look. Probably because she’d never heard him raise his voice before. He gave her a sheepish smile and held up a finger, signaling so she wouldn’t leave.

“Avaricious? Someone’s been using their word-of-the-day calendar.”

Oz ignored that. He’d gotten a damn fine college education thanks to football. Despite all appearances, he wasn’t a stupid jock. “Is that all? I’ve got to go.”

“I'm not looking to make you mad, Oz. The fact is, you don't know this woman from Adam. Sure she shares DNA with you but so does your shithead of a dad. I get where you're coming from, man, we've been through a lot together. I'm only saying, be cautious. Other than that, I've got nothing else to add.”

Oz sighed. He was taking his stress and frustration out on Rich and it was uncalled for when all he was trying to do was help. “I’ll be careful. And… Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“Talk to you later.” Oz hung up, directing his next comment to Emerson. “Sorry, that was my agent.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah,” Oz said, his mind on the phone call he needed to make. For the last thirty years he’d thought he was an only child, so the idea of a sister was a lot to process.

“Listen, if that was about me, I want you to—”

“What?” Oz interrupted, startled out of his musings. The last thing he wanted was for Emerson to get the idea he thought she might be a gold digger. “No. Not you. My sister. Well, my maybe half-sister.”

“Maybe?” She sounded slightly bemused. “You don’t know?”

“Not exactly.” As he’d already inadvertently said more than he’d intended, he went on to explain the situation. “So, you can see why my agent is leery.”

“Are you going to call her?”

“Yeah.” Oz nodded. “She’s my sister. I’m not naïve, but I’d like to give her the chance to prove she’s after more than just my money.”

“Good.” Emerson grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “You have a big heart, Oz Olson, and I think you’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t.”

Startled, first by the contact, then more so once the compliment had sunk in, he looked down at her hand covering his. “You think I have a big heart?”

“I do.”

He looked back into her eyes and said what he’d wanted to say since he’d first walked in. “Listen, our, um, opening game is this Sunday. If I got you a ticket, would you maybe want to go?”

His heart pounded so hard he could hear it thumping in his ears as he waited for what felt like forever for her to answer, all the while, hoping like hell she wasn’t trying to think of a nice way to get out of it.

“If I can get one of the waitresses to fill in for me behind the bar, I’d love to go.” She looked and sounded as though she meant that.

“Really?” At her nod, a relieved smile stretched his face. “Great.”

He wasn’t sure what he’d been so worried about. Asking her out had been a breeze.

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