“My Iris?” My question shoots out like bullet.
“Well …” Jared dips his head from one side to the other. “That’s up for debate.”
“This is not the time to play games with me.” I stand, anticipation humming through my blood, breathing life into parts I didn’t know were dormant. “Did she say where she is? Where she’s been?”
Jared heaves a huge sigh, like he might regret this. “No, and I got the distinct impression she didn’t want to,” he says. “She was more concerned about the future.” He fixes his eyes on me and then rolls them. “She called about a job.”
“A job?” I fire back. “With you?”
“Yeah.”
“Here?”
“Yeah.”
“And you gave her one, right? You said, ‘Yeah, I’ll find a job for you if I have to because my brother will peel my skin back if I don’t.’ Did the conversation go something like that?”
“I still don’t think she realizes we’re related, so you didn’t come up, but yes, I offered her a job. An entry-level job.”
“Entry level?” I flop my arms up and let them fall to my sides. “Is that supposed to entice her?”
“I wasn’t trying to entice her,” he replies. “She’s a sharp girl, smart and ambitious, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s never worked in the industry beyond college. I told her I was no longer with Richter, but that I had my own agency now in San Diego.”
“We have our own agency,” I correct. “And? This entry-level position, is she accepting it?”
He tosses his eyes up to the ceiling, dropping his head and running his hand through his thick hair. “Yeah, she accepted.”
“Holy shit.” I start pacing, my arms and legs conduits for all the nervous energy zipping through me. “After more than a year, she’s coming back into my life. She’ll be right here in …”
My words die a quick and painful death. Iris will be in San Diego, and I’ll be in Houston with my championship ring and my forty-five million dollars.
“We did just agree that Houston is the right basketball decision, Gus,” Jared reminds me. “Don’t do anything rash.”
“Yeah, it’s the right basketball decision, but I’ll retire from basketball at what? Thirty-five? Thirty-six years old? And the rest of my life will be ahead of me. I’ll spend more of my future off court than on. Basketball isn’t my whole life.”
“Isn’t it?” Jared gestures around the luxurious office. “Aren’t we building Elevation around your credibility as a professional athlete?”
“If the last year has shown me anything,” I say softly, “it’s that I need more than ball to make me happy.” I take a deep breath, struggling to slow my heartbeat. She’s not even in the room, not even in the state yet, and she’s got me twisted.
“When does she start?” I ask.
“Three weeks.”
“And would the Waves be open to me staying?” I hold my breath while I wait. If the Waves would rather leverage me to get other players than keep me, I don’t have much choice in the matter.
“The front office would probably be thrilled to keep building around you. I know Deck would.” Jared shakes his head and rubs the back of
his neck. “But I’m begging you not to make a hasty decision you’ll regret.”
I know about regret. I regret not getting her phone number the first night we met. I regret not trying harder to make her see what a jackass Caleb was. I regret not kissing her sooner—not figuring out a way to make her mine. I regret not being the father of her first child.
But with the same instinct I had that night at the bar, the one that told me she would be important to me, that we would be right together, I know I won’t regret this.
“Kill the deal.”
“Gus.” Jared lowers his face to his hands and speaks through his fingers. “Don’t do this. You don’t even know if she’ll want a relationship with you.”
Is he right? No. He can’t be, not when I remember the ease Iris and I shared every time we were together. Confessions, hopes, dreams, fears, insecurities pouring out of us. I’ve never felt that connected to anyone else. And the way that kiss in the closet still scorches my memory and gives me a hard-on. God, I’ll never forget how she tastes—sweet and tangy.