Page 2 of Personal Foul

Not that it’s right. It’s not, but it is what it is. I’m thankful I found myself a job here. They gave me a shot to prove myself, which cemented my place here. I’m not just a woman here. They see past my gender and respect me for who I am and what I can do.

That doesn’t mean I don’t get the sexism from outside these walls though.

“I won’t tolerate you speaking to me like that. You will address me as Ms. Kelly until you’ve earned the right to use my first name.”

He lets out a quick laugh. “Still as feisty as ever. No college nicknames. Got it.”

Shaking my head, I quip back, “It’s not a nickname when you call just about every girl it.”

He steps closer. “I’ve never called another girl dove, but you keep on believing whatever you want. So are we going on this tour or what? Nice skirt, by the way.”

I grit my teeth, “How about we start with your welcome packet first. Then we can go our separate ways at the Coach’s office.”

“Sounds good.”

I turn on my heel and walk back into my office. With my back to him, I take a deep breath before blowing it out slowly.

Don’t let him see how much he affects you.

“Breathing exercises, huh?”

I ignore him and round my desk. I gather the folder with his name on it and flip it open.

“Usually our HR person handles all this, but let’s see.” I sigh. “Here is a list of places to eat, companies for different services you might be interested in.”

“Services, huh? What kind of services are we talking about?” He smirks.

I ignore him and continue, “There is a home game day schedule and a travel schedule.” I look up and stare him in the eye as I shut the folder. “You know what, I know for a fact that you can read, so how about you just take this and we can continue on our merry way.” I push the folder forward on my desk for him to take.

He’s sitting in the chair across from my desk, leg resting on his knee, body slouched. “But we were having so much fun catching up.”

I pick the folder up, suppressing my eye roll as I round my desk. I slap the folder against his shoulder. “Come on.”

I hear him shuffling to catch up. “Hold up, Kelly!”

I ignore him and keep walking.

* * *

Garrett

Reagan Kelly,the only woman to ever make me look twice and want to get to know her. When I saw her, I was instantly hard with her long black hair that looked almost blue and porcelain skin I wanted to turn red. Then she opened her mouth, and I was a goner.

Players weren’t required to wear helmets until 1943.

Hearing her talk about the history of the game made me want to know more about her. So I asked around.

Reagan Kelly, only daughter of Calen Kelly Jr., granddaughter of Calen Kelly Sr. Football Royalty. Calen Sr. was a first-generation Irish Immigrant who absolutely dominated the football field. Junior picked up the torch when it was his turn and lived up to his father’s legacy. The only place the Kelly men didn’t succeed in was love. Both married the girl next door only to lose them early on. If the news reports are anything to go by, they said fuck you to love and put everything into the game and raising Reagan together. She knows more about football than most players could ever dream of.

The amount of shit I was able to dig up on her by asking around should have been concerning.

Everyone knew her. All the guys wanted her. She shot me down at every turn, she shot everyone down.

I don’t date athletes, sorry.

My ego and my pride took a hit, but that’s okay.

Maybe this move to Seattle won’t be too bad after all.

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