Page 7 of The Playmaker
"What you saw was the league trying to sweep brain damage under the rug," another player says, his voice low. "Not many writers have the guts to call that out."
Ann beams at me like a proud parent. "Avery doesn't lack courage. Just social skills." The players laugh, heat creeping up my neck. Ann doesn’t sugarcoat anything.
"Speaking of courage," Ann continues, lowering her voice. "The commissioner just walked in."
All heads turn toward the entrance where Richard Keller, NFL Commissioner and notorious hardass, surveys the room like a general inspecting troops. His presence instantly shiftsthe atmosphere—conversations quiet, smiles forced, backs straight.
"Think he read your article?" Coleman asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"If he did, I doubt I'm on his Christmas list." Ann's hand lands on my shoulder, her grip strong. "Actually, Avery, this is perfect timing. I want you to introduce yourself."
I nearly choke. "You want me to walk up to the man I called negligent and corrupt in print last month?"
"Exactly." Ann’s eyes sparkle with mischief. "The magazine needs access for the upcoming season, and you need to show you can do more than hide behind your keyboard."
"I don't hide?—"
"You're wearing the expression of someone contemplating jumping into the Hudson rather than making small talk," she interrupts.
Before I can protest further, she gently pushes me toward the commissioner. I glance back wanting Pen, but she’s deep in conversation with the chef, gesturing enthusiastically.
My heart hammers as I navigate through clusters of people. Commissioner Keller stands alone, his expensive suit and rigid posture radiating authority.
"Mr. Commissioner," I say, extending my hand. "Avery Monroe, NY Sports Mag."
His eyes narrow slightly as recognition dawns, his handshake cool and brief. "Ah, Ms. Monroe. Your work has been... memorable."
"That's one way to put it." I force myself to maintain eye contact. "I'd use other words, but we're at a charity event."
His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Do you enjoy burning bridges, or is it just a cultivated talent?"
Heat rises to my face—embarrassment mixed with indignation. "I shine light in dark corners."
"Poetic." He takes a sip of his whiskey. "And naive."
"Truth often is." I straighten my spine, determined not to be intimidated."I'm not here to argue—I actually recognize and appreciate the work you've done on player safety this year."
His eyebrows rise slightly, perhaps surprised at my diplomacy. "Public pressure accelerates change. Though I suspect you'll find our new protocols insufficient as well."
I open my mouth when a sudden shift in energy draws everyone's gaze. Heads turn. The crowd parts, and I understand why—Jaxon Carter has arrived.
The air electrifies. Even if I didn't recognize the star wide receiver from billboards, his presence commands attention. He towers over most guests, clad in a tailored charcoal suit that probably costs more than three months of my rent. Dark hair styled effortlessly, the famous sleeve tattoos peeking from under his cuffs.
"Speaking of problems," Commissioner Keller mutters, his expression souring. "Your magazine should do an exposé on him next. The man's a walking PR disaster."
Carter flashes his trademark grin at a group of women drawn toward him like moths to a flame. Everything about him screams entitled athlete—the precise type I love to take down in print.
"What's he done now?" I ask, my professional curiosity piqued.
"Besides showing up late to an event honoring him as Offensive Player of the Year?" Keller shakes his head. "It's the attitude. Last week he nearly brawled with his quarterback at practice."
I mentally file this information away, already composing potential headlines.
"Sounds like typical star athlete behavior."
"It's more than that. The league needs role models, not liabilities." Keller leans in, lowering his voice. "Between us, I'm concerned about his off-field activities. There arerumors..." He stops as Carter approaches, clapping a hand on Keller's shoulder casually.
"Commissioner! Sorry I'm late. Traffic was murder." "Carter's voice is deep and smooth, with just enough grit to make women weak in the knees."
