Page 23 of Blindsided

The woman at the desk in front of Lincoln’s office looked between the two of us, wearing an expression that was painfully neutral. The only sign she had heard anything of what we’d said was the way she blinked a number of times before greeting us.

Tom shot me a look that told me to behave and I reluctantly kept my mouth shut as he introduced himself and told her that Lincoln was expecting us.

The woman nodded, checked something on her computer screen, then picked the phone up and used one of her bright pink fingernails to press a few buttons. A few seconds went by before she spoke. “Mr. Barrington? Misters Cernak and Lafferty are here to see you.”

Lincoln must have responded because a moment later she hung the phone up and headed toward the door. “This way, gentlemen.”

As we walked toward Lincoln’s office, I leaned over to whisper in Tom’s ear. “If it all goes sideways in here, just mention that you and your fiancé hooked up with a guy basically Brax’s age while on vacation last year.”

Tom sputtered in shock, tripping over his tongue as he asked, “How?” and “When?” and finally “Who?” He was still coughing when the door to the office opened. Lincoln and a beautiful woman who I figured was Daisy Christianson, the GM of the team, stared at the two of us.

Leaning into Tom, I whispered, “Brax says your voice carries.” I gave my best approximation of an angelic smile and for a split second, Lincoln’s deer-in-the-headlights expression gave way to an amusement I remembered from college.

Daisy’s voice had his blank expression returning and I wished I could make the smile return. “Let me get you a water.” She stood quickly and hurried over to the tray holding the water bottles. “There’s also coffee and bagels here.”

My stomach chose that moment to rumble, reminding me that I hadn’t had anything in nearly twenty-four hours. Between the failed dinner, the events in Lincoln’s room, and my rush through a shower that morning, making time to eat had barely crossed my mind. Now that food had been mentioned, my appetite had decided to return with a vengeance, but I was also trying to be polite. “Perfect, thanks so much.” I held my hand out to her when she returned with Tom’s water bottle already uncapped for him. “Nice to meet you. Easton Lafferty.”

She gripped my hand with impressive strength. “Nice to meet you. Daisy Christianson. We were in Boston around the same time. I remember watching you play for the Bulldogs. Shame they never gave you a chance to shine for them. Blew a great opportunity.” She shook her head slightly, her braids falling over her shoulder with the movement. The bottom six or eight inches were shades of pink, purple, and blue.

“Love your hair.”

With a flick of her hand, the braids landed behind her back again, and she shot me a wink. “It was a bit of a rebellion at a homophobic comment made when I was coaching last season. Kinda stuck, I guess.”

I nodded in understanding. “It suits you.”

She beamed at me and my stomach decided to give another rumble of protest. “Go get some food. Sounds like you’re overdue.”

There was no denying it, so I headed to the little table toward the back of the room to catch up to where Tom was already grabbing a bagel and cream cheese. In the assortment, an everything bagel caught my eye and I snatched it quickly. “These are the best. No meeting ever has them.”

Tom rolled his eyes at me. “Because they make your breath stink and no one wants to deal with that.”

I started to tell him it wouldn’t be that bad, but my eyes fell on the garlic and chive cream cheese and I swiped the container off the table. “I’ve died and gone to heaven! Best meeting ever. If every meeting has these options, I’m signing the contract, no need to read it.”

The look of disgust Tom gave me was identical to a face Brax made when he was repulsed by something. There was no denying their shared genetics.

We started toward the end of the table where the coffee was and my eyes fell on a blueberry bagel and a small thing of strawberry cream cheese. Without much thought, I grabbed the bagel and cream cheese and placed them on a second plate.

It wasn’t until I saw the pot labeled Dark Roast that it occurred to me the items in my hand were not a coincidence. They had been an intentional choice by the man that knew me better than anyone else in this room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Lincoln was studying a piece of paper in front of him, his brows turned downward in concentration and his lips pursed. Whatever he was looking at had him oblivious to what was around him and clearly confused.

With my coffee poured and one plate balanced precariously on top of the mug while holding the extra plate, I made my way over to where Daisy and Tom were seated in front of Lincoln’s desk. He didn’t notice anything until I slid the plate with the blueberry bagel in front of him. When the food appeared, he startled and looked between the bagel and me and back again before a small smile appeared on his face.

“Thank you.”

At my wink, he blushed and dipped his head. I hadn’t thought about how out of place it was for me to give the man a bagel randomly, but just like he’d still known my bagel preferences after all the time that had passed, I hadn’t forgotten his either.

An awkward silence fell over the room until Tom cleared his throat and shot me a stern look. “Easton.”

I inclined my head toward him at the sound of his voice and he raised an admonishing eyebrow in my direction. The sudden laugh that bubbled from me was a surprise to me and the entire room. “Sorry,” I said, still laughing as the three stared at me in confusion. “It’s just, you know I’m not Brax, right? Like, if you want me as your assistant coach, you can’t go treating me like your kid.”

Lincoln snorted a laugh he tried to hide as a cough and Tom sighed. “I’m having second thoughts after all. I think it’s time to revisit the potential assistant coach pool.”

Daisy put a stop to the banter by raising her hand and interjecting before anyone could add anything else to the mix. “Oh, hell no. Tom, you chose Easton. Easton, you’re here. We’re talking about this contract now. I want a coaching staff by the end of this week and if we have to start a drawing board, the inaugural season will be over before we have a coaching staff.”

Tom gave a put-upon sigh. “Fine.” Rolling his hand like he wanted to speed the process up, he focused on the group of us. “Let’s get this thing figured out.”

The laid-back mood in the room shifted when lawyers and my agent walked in. Daisy’s guilty smile told me she was the one that had called Eric. Judging by the look on my agent’s face as he took a seat, I was going to be on the receiving end of a tongue lashing before the day was over.

Hours of detailed, line-by-line contract analysis followed. Most of the time, Lincoln said nothing, either taking notes on his legal pad or staring at us in confusion. Occasionally he would speak up, but usually it was something to do with a word or phrase in the contract that was unclear. Most of those side conversations went straight over my head, but I could see the ease with which Lincoln discussed the contract language with the attorneys.

---