Page 22 of Quarterback Sneak

Claustrophobia threatened to sideline Sam and he raised his hands and lowered them in a quieting gesture. Voices slammed into him from all angles and he forced his mind to concentrate on the red light of the news camera directly in front of him. On the other side of the cameras, sitting in thousands of living rooms across the country, diehard fans who he entertained every season and who were interested in his career, would be watching this broadcast. For many fans, football proved a bright spot in their year by bringing together family and friends. Currently, he was the teams shining star and he couldn’t let them down. He had to remain composed and not allow the anxiety to ruin his calm façade. Granted, he often participated in public appearances, but the situations had been controlled by the team coordinators or by the P.R. division of Howler’s company. Public speaking had never been a favorite activity of his but he had no choice except to push through it.

The media was his friend over the years and had been instrumental in furthering his career. On the flip-side, the invasiveness of some of their ilk had been a burden on his past relationships, Raina being the latest casualty. The reminder added an extra element of strain. Instinct told him to make some excuse to avoid answering the inquiries tossed at him and run far and fast. These were field reporters, not sports reporters and their questions tended to focus more on a personal nature. If he avoided them completely, however, then they’d come back at him twice as hard. He stood his ground, his stubborn side unwilling to give into the irrational fear.

Hopefully, neither of the reporters associated Ivy with him. How much the cameras had caught before she left his side was hard to tell. He dared not search the crowd for her familiar face lest he drag unwanted attention her way. If luck were on her side, she would have made it back the restaurant without anyone noting.

“Sam,” the woman reporter shouted over the din of noise.

Sam really got a good look at her and his stomach dropped. Cassandra Smith, the reporter Raina had accused him of having an affair with. The one Howler slept with then dumped. Great.

“I hope you are all as excited as I am about the upcoming season,” Sam blurted out, surprised to find his voice steady and self-assured. Years of conditioning proved helpful in more ways than football.

A murmur of agreement spread throughout the crowd and anticipation lingered in the air. Sam forced a calming smile and waited for the questions to begin.

The male reporter, a smallish man with thick glasses, asked the one question everyone wanted the answer to, including Sam.

“Are you staying with the Pioneers or going to one of the California teams?”

“Despite the business of football, I will do whatever it takes to bring the Pioneers to the Super bowl again this year. Seattle is a great city, one I call home. I have no plans to change that.”

“So you’re staying?” Cassandra asked.

“I will continue to live in Seattle, yes.” Sam tamped down a rush of frustration at the forced deception and wished he could admit the truth. Unlike those around him, Sam couldn’t afford to speculate what would happen if Miller refused to sign him. He had to remain positive least anyone detected the crack in his confidence. “At this particular moment, I’m more concerned about the team and our performance in practice. We’ll be playing the Scorpions in the first preseason game and their defensive line is strong this year.”

His attempt to deflect the line of questioning worked for a few questions but like any good offense, the subject inched its way back up the field. “Is it a personal affront to you that Miller hasn’t signed?”

“No, it’s a business first and foremost. While the contract is important, it comes secondary to the game. I love playing football and will play football as long as I can for the fans.” Bitterness over the potential loss of his livelihood stung but he meant every word he said.

“Can you describe what goes through your mind while your agent is negotiating on your behalf?” Cassandra marched into the forefront and by the way that she tilted her head, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, she hadn’t forgotten Howler’s insult. Shit.

“I try not to focus on the business end when I’m preparing for the season. I let others handle the negotiations so I can focus on the upcoming game. I’m glad to be here and play for such a great team, no matter what the future brings.” Sam pointed to his feet where water pooled around his ankles. “It appears the water main issue is getting worse. I’ll let these workers get back to work. Thank you all for your support.”

Cassandra stepped closer, obstinate jaw jutted out. “How does this affect the dynamic of the team and is it fair to the other members of your team for you and your agent to push for a bigger piece of the salary pie? It does take eleven men to win a game.”

The emphasis on agent spoke volumes. Damn, Howler. A prevailing silence seemed to settle around him and outrage on Sam’s behalf showed in the face of many of the fans.

Sam responded before the angry mumbles turned into something more. “You are correct. Every man on the field is valuable. We depend on each other and I can say with emphatic confidence my team has faith in my leadership and me. In four years, I’ve not let them down, nor have they let me down. We are a team first and foremost and I know they wish me well.”

He’d developed bonds with his fellow team members over the years, ones that would last a lifetime. But there were some hard truths about the game. The quarterback garnered the most attention and subsequently the higher pay. The success and failure of the team often rested on his shoulders whether he had control over the circumstances or not. Sam took his role seriously and he’d continue to do his very best, regardless of the impending end of his contract. He owed it to his fans and he owed it to himself.

Ivy glanced up from the stove at the sound of squeaking shoes on the tile floor.

“Hey gorgeous.” Sam stepped through the double doors and into Vicenzo’s kitchen. He stripped off his black hoodie to reveal a white tank that clung to the bulging muscles of his chest and bared his powerful arms. “It’s raining like hell out there.”

She bit her lip, nearly dumping too much stock into the Arborio rice. Lifting the ladle from the homemade stock, she began to stir it into the risotto. It was already late and tomorrow was her segment for Seasoned Chef, not her first experience with a food critic but the most critical for her budding career.

He tossed his jacket aside and sauntered over to the stove, faded jeans hugging his thick thighs. “Is that risotto?”

“I’m cooking several versions of the same dish to see which one I want to present tomorrow.” She waved to the discarded dishes from her previous attempts and tried to gain a bit of equilibrium. In the past few months, she’d revisited the idea of applying for a spot on a different cooking show on the EN network. While she loved the restaurant, part of her wanted to dip her toes into the larger pool of life, to challenge the ties of home and see what the world had to offer.

Sam slipped behind her, the scent of his soap cut through the savory smells emitting from her dish. The heat of his body touched her back before his solid chest pressed close, his arms coming around her waist. “It smells delicious,” he said, lips nibbling at her neck.

Goosebumps traveled along her limbs and she bit her lip, her head coming to rest against his shoulder. Her relationship with Sam added another ingredient into the mix. His future was still up in the air. If he signed with one of the California teams, he’d be living there, at least a large part of the year. And the two biggest food industry networks with the most popular televised cooking competition shows were located in California as well. Would she have the nerve to move with him?

“No fair, I’m trying to cook here.” She was jumping head first into uncharted waters without identifying the rocks hidden beneath the surface. After two weeks, she’d hadn’t really learned much about him other than surface things. He was most definitely sexy, a great listener, and smart. She enjoyed being with him, longed to kiss him, and ached to have sex with him. He was also guarded and kept a part of himself back. She had a sense he might not even be aware he did so. If that were the case, she’d have to be patient with him. They hadn’t been dating for long. Time was on her side. She had to stop rushing things and let the relationship unfold, otherwise it would drive her crazy.

“What’s wrong? Am I distracting you?” Laughter enveloped his words along with desire and need. “Because I couldn’t concentrate on anything but you all day.”

The wooden spoon nearly slipped in her fingers and she clutched the instrument more firmly. She’d dreamed of being with someone for so long, she wanted immediate resolution. Unfortunately, human nature rarely worked that way. “Really?”

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