Page 101 of Nanny for the Athletes

“You really are clueless,” Suzie muttered. “I bet you sit around playing Dungeons and Dragons all day.”

Ken shot her a glare. “I’m currently in two D&D campaigns, yes.”

“Which campaigns?” Suzie demanded.

“Lost Mines of Phandelver,” he replied. “The other one is a home-brew game that I DM online for my old college friends.”

Suzie laughed derisively. “Yeah, figures. Phandelver is kiddie stuff.”

Ken rolled his eyes. “Throwing a ball for a living sounds pretty appealing right now.”

Christian smirked. “Try it when eighty thousand fans are screaming at you.”

“Can you hurry up and bring me that extra bottle of shampoo?” Braden shouted. “Woody is enormous. It’s like washing all the carpet in our football stadium.”

“The stadium doesn’t have carpet, does it?” I asked.

“Well, no,” Braden called back. “But like, imagine if it did.”

“I’ve got it,” Suzie said, grabbing the two-gallon jug of dog shampoo. “You can sit here and brush up on your football knowledge.”

“You know what? I will!” he snapped back. He glanced at me and whispered, “I don’t know what her problem is.”

I shrugged, but deep down it warmed my heart seeing everyone together. My two employees, and two of my boyfriends. It was like I had my own little dog-kennel family; the only ones missing were Logan and Claire. After growing up with just me and my grandma, it was nice having lots of other people around. Even if they were taunting each other half the time.

“Wow, your salary is enormous,” Ken said while scrolling on his phone.

Christian shook his head. “Supply and demand, I guess.”

“Looks like you maketoomuch money,” Ken added.

“A-fucking-men!” Braden shouted from the back room.

“What do you mean, too much money?” I asked. Something in the way he said it sounded strange.

“There’s an article here,” Ken explained, “talking about your future with the team. I guess the owner made some statements today about cutting costs next season?” He shook his head. “Either way, getting paid this much money to play a game…”

“Let me see that.” Christian took his phone and began scrolling.

Braden stepped out of the back room, hands covered in suds, staring in our direction with a concerned expression.

“Christian Baker expected to be traded,”Christian read out loud in a shocked voice, “along with other high-profile Colts players.”

41

Christian

Everything was going so well.

Until it wasn’t.

“They’re going to trade us?” Braden asked, aghast.

“It was an interview the owner gave,” I replied, scanning the article quickly. “The trade deadline for this season has already passed, so it wouldn’t happen until February.”

I saw Beth wince. That was two months away.

“I’m real sorry for stirring up trouble,” Ken said.

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