Page 13 of The Perfect Pass
“A cup of coffee sounds great, but we’ll have to grab it someplace else.” Jackson opened the door to let Cade inside where the stench from the Mr. Coffee still hung in the air.
Cade wrinkled his nose. “No worries. I know just the place.”
* * *
“Do you want to talk about it?” Bailey winced as she slid a Touchdown Toffee Latte across the counter toward Calla.
“Not really.” Calla took a sip of Bailey’s latest on-theme, caffeinated creation. Much to her mortification, she loved it, just as she did everything else on the Huddle Up menu.
“At least you got your first feature. That has to be good, right?” Bailey held up the front page of theLone Star Gazetteand waggled her eyebrows. Sure enough, Calla’s editorial was splashed above the fold—not on the cover page of the sports section, but on the front page of theentirepaper.
“This isn’t how I ever imagined going viral.” Calla’s gaze darted over Bailey’s left shoulder to the portrait of Ethan that hung in a place of honor above the fancy espresso machine. Calla’s brother was everywhere and nowhere, all at the same time. Would it always be like this? She hoped not, for Bailey’s sake as much as her own. “I never meant to drag Ethan into this.”
“I know you didn’t, hon. And none of this is your fault. Jackson Knight is the one who injected your brother into the mix,notyou,” Bailey said.
True, but Calla had reacted terribly when he’d mentioned the turf logo. She should’ve just kept her mouth shut and played the game like Stan wanted her to do. Instead, she’d done the exact opposite. She’d poked the bear, and now here she was, all over the morning papers and sports entertainment talk shows.
Right on cue, Calla’s face flashed on the television in the corner of the café. The camera quickly spun toward Jackson, and a banner appeared at the bottom of the screen.
Jackson Knight hopelessly fumbles first day on the job as a high school football coach, thanks to confrontation with local sports writer.
“Reporters aren’t supposed tobethe news. We’re supposed to write about it,” Calla said, echoing the words of her boss from the day before.
Stan, predictably, had been apoplectic when she’d arrived at the office after the press conference. But as the day progressed and the story of her confrontation with Jackson began popping up on national news sites, he’d begrudgingly changed his tune. Like it or not, she’d put their local paper on the map. Subscriptions had nearly doubled overnight. He’d had no choice but to lean into the attention and run her column just under the masthead.
Bailey scrambled for the remote control and aimed it at the television. The screen went dark, and an awkward silence fell over the café. A few patrons slid sympathetic glances toward the two of them.
If there was one thing Calla hated more than football, it was pity.
“Don’t mind them.” Bailey reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Everyone will forget about all of this in a few days.”
Not likely. Friday night was just three short days away, and not only would the Bulldogs be playing their first game of the season, but it was also a home game. All eyes would be on Jackson Knight, and subsequently, on Calla, too.
What have I done?
She drained her coffee cup. There simply wasn’t enough sugar in the world to deal with this mess. On the plus side, things couldn’t get much worse.
Could they?
The chimes on the front door to the coffee shop jingled, and Bailey called out a greeting like she always did to customers as they crossed the threshold.
“Welcome,” she said, then her eyes went soft as her gaze landed on whoever had just entered. “Oh, good morning, Cade.”
Calla kept her eyes glued straight ahead and her back to the door. Born and bred in Bishop Falls, Cade Montgomery worked in the athletic department at the high school. She’d known him all her life, he’d been Ethan’s best friend, and he was a perfectly nice person, but she wasn’t ready to face the coaching staff…or anyone else who’d been at that press conference.
“Hey, Bailey,” Cade said, and as soon as the words left his mouth, Bailey’s smile froze in place.
It was then that Calla knew things were about to get much,muchworse. Bailey and Cade had always been good friends. There was only one reason she’d have that deer-in-headlights expression on her face.
Calla’s gaze flitted toward the espresso machine, and sure enough, she spotted Jackson Knight’s reflection in its shiny silver surface. She would’ve recognized those wide shoulders and muscular arms anywhere—even when they were mirrored back at her in industrial stainless steel.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.Why him? Why now?
Seriously, sometimes this town was too small for its own good.
“Coach Knight,” Bailey said tightly. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Jackson said, and a riot of goosebumps broke out all over Calla’s arms, which she promptly blamed on the coffee shop’s aggressive air-conditioning.
