Page 23 of The Quarterback
How did that turn intothis? An empty house and no football to fill his days. No teammates hang out with. He couldn’t even toss the ball to himself. And he had no one to distract him from himself.
Colton chewed on his lower lip and closed his eyes.
Chapter Eight
Colton shiftedhis weight from foot to foot in the lobby of Nick’s office. Not just an office, but the executive suite lobby on the top floor of a tower Colton could see from every corner of campus. Jesus, he hadn’t realized Nick was that high up in his company. Though, if he could simply decide Colton was going to be an intern with him, he had to have some kind of pull in the place.
He just hadn’t known how much.
Thank fuck he’d bought all new clothes.
He smoothed his tie down the front of his button-down again. Nick’s executive assistant was an older Hispanic woman, her curly salt-and-pepper hair pulled back off her handsome face and sweeping cheekbones. She watched Colton with a smile while she worked at her computer. Across from her were two other cubicles in a wide empty space in the middle of five offices that lined the far wall.
One of the office doors opened, and Nick and an older man stepped out, both of them smiling as they finished their conversation. The older man was in a suit that looked like big money, and Nick was in dark dress pants, his own crisp button-down, and a pastel tie. His gaze swept the lobby and landed on Colton. A smile broke over his face.
“Jim, here’s the man I was telling you about. Colton Hall, my intern for the summer.”
“I know all about Mr. Hall.” Jim crossed the office and reached for Colton’s left hand in a backward handshake. If it was an awkward move for him, he didn’t show it. Smooth seemed to radiate from him, from his fluffy, scissor-cut silver hair to his double Windsor tie knot. And was that a Rolex on his wrist? “Fantastic job out on the field. You’re one hell of a quarterback. I’m at every game, watching from my box.”
In his box. Of course, this man would have his own executive suite. They started at $50,000 per season. “Thank you, sir.” He swallowed. It was hard to take compliments on his quarterbacking when he was broken.
“You’ll be back out there in no time. We’re happy to have you here for the summer. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. We’ll do everything we can for you.” He gripped Colton’s uninjured shoulder, smiled, and then slapped Nick on the back. “Later, Nick.”
Nick waited for Jim to disappear into his corner office—the one with the CEO door sign—and shut the door behind him. “Jim is a good guy. Effusive, but all top sales guys are.” His gaze raked over Colton, from his tightly knotted Texas tie and his white button-down to his pressed black pants and shining dress shoes. “You did great. You look perfect.”
He puffed up beneath Nick’s praise, like he always did whenever someone older and wiser noticed him and said he was good. He couldn’t stop his smile. “Told you I was fashionable.”
“You did.” Nick held open his office door and gestured for Colton to head inside. “Let’s get you set up. HR sent some documents for us to go over, and I’ve got a laptop to sign out to you. That desk over there across from Lizbeth is yours. For most of the week, you’ll be shadowing me.”
He followed Nick past his giant desk to a leather couch that overlooked a panoramic view of Austin. He whistled as Nick sat at one end of the couch in front of a glass-topped coffee table that held a laptop and a stack of manila folders.
“You like your views.” He sat beside Nick, twisting around to take in the rest of the office. NoMad Men–style bar, but there was a decorative bookcase lining one wall, filled with awards and photos of Nick with what had to be important people. There were photos of Justin, too, as many as there were of Nick. Pictures of him as a young boy and pictures of him now, with Wes. Even a picture of him dancing, regal under a spotlight on stage at one of his practices in ratty leggings, leg warmers, and an oversize Texas T-shirt that definitely belonged to Wes.
“When I told Jim I was moving down from Dallas, he surprised me with this office. I can work from anywhere. I worked from my home office when I lived in the DFW area, since the commute into Dallas was so abysmal. But now that I live downtown, I can walk in.” He smiled and gazed out the window. Colton could see the university bell tower, the edges of the stadium. “I do a lot of thinking looking out there.”
“I can see why.”
Nick pulled the folder between them and flipped the top open. For the next hour, they worked their way through gobs of HR forms, including, to Colton’s surprise, his pay schedule and tax form. He hadn’t realized he was getting paid. For being a know-nothing ergonomics major and a broken quarterback, as well as a twenty-two-year-old with no professional experience, he was making twenty-four dollars an hour as Nick’s intern, working thirty-five hours a week.
“Thanks,” he said, signing the form. “That’s unexpected. And awesome.”
Nick smiled and moved on. He signed out the laptop to Colton, along with a keycard that gave him access not just to the main office but to the executive floor and Nick’s office. Nick handed over a parking pass, too. “Parking downtown is terrible. Did you drive in?”
He nodded. He’d circled for twenty minutes to find a spot, eventually parking in a hotel’s garage and paying thirty dollars for the day.
“This is a pass to the garage beneath the tower. You can park anywhere from the third to the sixth level. Just fill in your truck’s details and your license plate…”
This was way more than he’d expected. He’d thought he’d be filing papers, or working in a mail room, or playing gofer. Spending his summer one-on-one with a copy machine. He hadn’t expected all this. He watched Nick out of the corner of his eye as Nick flipped through the stack of paperwork, checking to make sure everything was signed and complete.
“Great.” Nick checked his watch. “Just in time. In twenty minutes, I’ve got a meeting with my team. You’ll sit in and listen, and after, we’ll review everything. I’ll give you a rundown of my accounts and my pipeline. And I’ll take you to lunch with my account executives, too. But since we have a few, do you want to grab coffee before the meeting?”
Colton smiled. “Yeah, for sure.”
* * *
By the endof the day, his head was spinning. He’d tried to take notes during the meeting, but Nick waved him off and told him to just listen and take his time with everything coming at him. So he did, listening as Nick’s team of four account executives and eight account managers ran through a comprehensive update on Nick’s book of business. It was mostly for his benefit, since some of the accounts the team talked about were in a holding pattern, trucking along as happy customers. Nick seemed to have a lot of happy customers.
He, Nick, and the account executives went to lunch, walking a few blocks to the Capital Grille, a place Colton had never been in the three and a half years he’d lived in Austin. He’d never been dressed nicely enough to walk through the doors. Until today.
