Page 102 of Nanny for the Athletes

“Not your fault,” I said, handing him back the phone. “I’m going to go inside and see what they’re saying on TV.”

Braden and Beth followed me out of the kennel and into the house. As soon as we reached the front porch, Logan’s car came rushing up the driveway. He and Claire hopped out.

“I’m going to say hi to Suzie!” Claire said, running straight to the gate.

“You see what they’re saying on TV?” Logan asked urgently.

“We heard,” I replied.

Braden was on his phone with his agent. “No, I’m not calling about Alpha Milk! I’m calling to talk about the trade rumors. Why weren’t you aware of this?” A pause. “I don’t care if that’s two months away! A little warning would be nice.”

“Why would they trade you and Braden?” Beth asked. “You’re two of the best players. The team would be terrible without you!”

“That’s the idea,” I explained while turning on the kitchen TV. “The owner wants to dump all the expensive salaries. Then he’ll tank the team for a season or two, which will allow him to collect a few good draft picks. Then he’ll rebuild the team in a few years.”

“This is bullshit,” Braden spat, hanging up the phone. “We’re competitive now.”

“We’re six-and-eight,” I said, stating our team record. “We’re mathematically eliminated from the playoffs. And we’ve lost four games in a row.”

“Yeah, because our defense has suffered a few key injuries,” Braden argued. “The offense is strong. We’re playing better than ever!”

“Doesn’t matter if we can’t take home wins.”

“A good offense helps fill the stadium with fans,” Braden continued. “If you and I are traded, there won’t be any reason to watch the team.”

“Tell the owner, not me,” I muttered.

Beth was rubbing my back reassuringly, but I could see the fear in her eyes. Logan was quiet. That was a bad sign; he must have been fuming on the inside. This was just like last time. Our job was taking us away from the woman we loved.

Love.

I felt something strong inside my chest when I looked at Beth. The kind of feeling that was too powerful to ignore, especially when she was in my arms and our hearts were beating in sync. I hadn’t said the words, neither to Beth or to myself, but I knew I loved her. And I was certain Braden and Logan felt the same, or close enough to it as to make no difference.

What if it all went away because of a billionaire owner’s whim?

“Maybe you’ll be traded somewhere close,” Beth said hopefully. “Chicago, Kansas City, and Nashville all have teams that are only a few hours away…”

“Kansas City and Chicago already have established quarterbacks,” I replied.

“Not to mention we’d probably be traded to different teams,” Braden muttered.

There was another sound outside; a car was coming up the driveway. Beth cursed and said, “I’ll be right back.”

Logan glanced out the door after her. When I gave him a questioning look, he said, “Just making sure it’s not her cunty ex, Trip.”

“There!” Braden said. “Turn the TV up.”

I grabbed the remote and unmuted the television. The white-haired owner of the River City Colts was speaking to a reporter outside of a grand staircase with a gold banister. He was wearing a tuxedo; it looked like he was at the theater.

“I’m just as disappointed with the season as anyone,” he was saying to the reporter. “We had all the pieces in place to win the division, but we couldn’t make it happen. We’ll absolutely be making moves in the off-season to ensure we’re doing what’s best for the franchise long-term.”

“Does that mean trading some of your more expensive pieces?” the reporter asked.

“Absolutely.”

They didn’t need to call us out by name; I was the highest paid player on the team, with Braden second, and our running back third. But the reporter decided to spell it out for anyone watching.

“Are Christian Baker and Braden Clark on the chopping block?”

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