When Rick Douglas steps through the doors, he stalls for a split second as he sees me. The subtle shake of his head, as if he’s disappointed, has me confused, but he pushes whatever it is away and approaches me with a warm—but I’m guessing fake—smile.
“Jackson.”
“Mr. Douglas.” I shake his outstretched hand and try not to wince when he grasps my sweaty palm.
And then? Nothing but silence. Brilliant.
“Umm, sorry, I don’t even know what this meeting is about.”
He narrows his eyes. “You … you have no idea why we’re here?”
“I can venture a guess, but I don’t understand why we’d be doing … that here. Without my agent.”
Now he cocks his head as if I’ve confused him somehow. “You really don’t know, do you? I thought … Uh, never mind what I thought. But—”
“Mr. Huntington will see you both now,” the receptionist says.
I gesture for Rick to go first, and we’re welcomed by Noah’s father holding the door open for us. Even though Noah Huntington II is only in his late fifties, he looks mid-sixties at least. I wonder if politics has aged him, or perhaps that’s part of Noah’s doing with his refusal to conform.
“We’ll get straight to the point,” Mr. Huntington says as we take our seats at his desk. “Rick has an offer for you.”
“So why hasn’t Rick gone through my agent?” I ask.
“We’re all friends here,” Noah’s dad says.
Rick passes me a sheet of paper with a sum on it. An amazing sum. Like Tom Brady type of money.
“And the catch?” I grip the armrest of my chair with my free hand and prepare for what I already know is coming but am hoping I’m wrong. I’m not dumb. I’m not worth that much.
“You move out of my house,” Noah’s dad says.
My brow scrunches. “What, you worried I’m going to try to make a claim for it if something was to happen to Noah? That townhouse has been in your family for generations. I wouldn’t—”
“He’s not worried about the house,” Rick says, and my suspicions are confirmed.
“You know there’s no future with my son. Move out, buy your own place, and play for the Cougars. It’s no secret in the football world that no one wants you.”
Rick glances between Mr. Huntington and me. “Right.”
“You get what you want, and Noah stays out of the spotlight,” Noah’s dad says.
I want to tell him to fuck off, but Rick-freaking-Douglas is sitting next to me, and while I’m not going to accept his tainted offer in a million years, he’s a big deal in the NFL. I have to be professional.
But Noah’s dad’s trying to get rid of me the same way he did Noah’s college boyfriend, and that pisses me off.
Even if this money would set me and my siblings up for our entire lives, it’s not worth losing Noah over. Not to mention every time I’d put on a Cougar’s jersey, I’d be wearing my guilt. My shame. My sellout.
Fuck that.
“Thanks, but I’m gonna have to politely decline. If Noah doesn’t want me around anymore, it’s up to him to tell me.”
“You don’t have to answer right away. Sleep on it,” his dad says.
“I don’t need to. I’m not accepting a bribe.” I turn to Rick. “You’re lucky if I don’t go to the league about this.” I stand from my seat and place both my hands on the oversized desk that’s probably overcompensating for something lacking in his life and lean in to get in Mr. Huntington’s face. “I can’t be bought. You forget I grew up poor. Money means nothing to me, because I know I’ll survive without it.”
“Will you be able to survive without football?”
I falter, because I don’t know the answer to that question. Football has been my everything for as long as I can remember.
“I know you care about Noah,” Mr. Huntington says. “So do I. Which is why it’s best for everyone if you step back. I’d hate to think how he’d feel if you gave up football for him when you two don’t have a future. You wouldn’t want to come between him and his new charity, would you?”
I’m not sure if that’s a threat or actual concern for Noah’s new venture that he’s extremely invested in. Noah once told me he doesn’t care about anything. He doesn’t have a passion. But ever since he came home and told us about the charity, I’ve never seen him more focused.
I want to ask him to clarify what he means, but before I can, he says, “Think on the deal. You want back in the NFL, and this is your in.”
I turn to Mr. Douglas. “No offense, but you look as happy about this situation as I do.” I look back to Noah’s dad. “There’s no point being in this city if I can’t be with Noah.”