The Wife Win

“Shut your fucking mouth, Reuben,” I bark tersely, tilting my head and raising my brows in a manner that clearly states my displeasure. “What you say about women in this industry says a lot about your character. And I can promise you, players on my team aren’t drafted on skill alone. You hear me? I look at the entire picture and select players who share the same values as my organization. If I ever hear you speak in a demeaning manner about Miss Conrad or any female in this business, I will take action.”

I glare each of them down to prove the veracity of my statement. Reuben looks properly admonished and bows his head with a frown.

“Y-yes, sir.” Reuben’s eyes stare at a spot on the floor between our feet, his head bent in apologetic remorse.

The very idea that I can turn a six-foot-eight man into a frightened little boy in a blink of an eye with just my tone of voice and threat makes me want to laugh. Except this is not a laughing matter. Even if it hadn’t been Harper Reuben was undressing with his eyes and disgracing with his words, I’d still step in and put a stop to it. Because if not for men like me at the top, then who will do it? Certainly not these kids.

I can’t expect for others to lead the way if I don’t take a stand and show them how.

I reach out and lay my hand on top of his shoulder. “Good. I’m glad I’ve made myself clear. That goes for all of you.”

I point my finger around the circle and the players all bob their heads in agreement and then disperse in a hurry, leaving Reuben standing on his own to go toe to toe with me.

It’s a perfect time to give him some real-world advice. He’s a nineteen-year-old kid who’s had one year of college, probably put on a pedestal and worshipped like he was king. I get it. I was there once myself. Thankfully, I did have coaches and leaders who guided me with more than just tips for the court.

“Listen, Reuben, you and I both know you’ll be drafted this year. First round or second, it’s anyone’s guess. But you’ll experience something not many young guys do. With that comes a lot of fun, women, some pretty good money, and a lot of responsibility.”

Reuben smiles. “I know, right? Just look at your boy, Jaeger. He has the world at his feet, man’s living like a king.”

I chuckle, shaking my head before securing an arm around his back and guiding him over to the line of chairs. I noticed from afar that Harper was just wrapping up another interview with Tra’Von Matthews, a soon-to-be draft pick out of Arizona.

“Sure, you can do that. If all you want is pussy and press, then by all means, follow in Jaeger’s footsteps.”

Reuben rears to the side and gives me a look like I’m the crazy one. “Huh?”

I snicker. “I like Jaeger Matlin. He’s a terrific ballplayer. On the court, he’s everything we wanted in a rookie. J gets the points, the rebounds, is a playmaker, and plays hard every single night. However, there are things off the court that he does that haven’t quite fit with our team philosophy.”

Reuben rolls his eyes and laughs. “Yeah, he’s a playa a’ight.”

“Among other things,” I hedge, not planning on sharing any more details because those are to be held confidential. Plus, we’ve now made it to Harper’s spot where she lifts her head from her notes when she sees us standing behind her. “Anyway, Reuben, just remember what I said. The game of basketball is a profession, and we expect to hire professionals. And speaking of which, let me introduce you to Harper Conrad, one of the sports broadcasters covering the events this weekend.”

Reuben very sheepishly tips his chin forward and reaches out his hand to Harper, who stands and smiles, shaking it with enthusiasm.

“Reuben, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been waiting to talk to you about your impressive stats today. Please, take a seat. I promise this will be less painful than going to the dentist.” She laughs lightly and waves her hand for Reuben to sit down.

Before she sits, she gazes up at me with raised eyebrows.

“I didn’t realize you were the unofficial press runner today.”

The humor in her voice makes me want to kiss every funny bone in her body. Instead, I give her a bow and a hand flourish. “At your disposal, mademoiselle.”

She giggles and then realizes we’re in public, quickly clearing her throat and running a hand over the slacks covering her thighs. She’s dressed in a very modest navy blue suit and white blouse, but it doesn’t stop me from fantasizing about peeling it off her the minute we get back.

Which reminds me, we aren’t returning to our love nest tonight. We’re heading straight to the airport to catch the plane since my coaching and scouting staff have meetings first thing tomorrow back in Seattle in preparation for the draft next weekend.

“When will you be wrapping up here?” I ask, checking my watch and wondering if we’ll get any chance to be alone anytime in the next two hours before our flight.

“Reuben here is my last scheduled interview. I can be ready to go in thirty minutes.”

I nod, pulling out my phone to contact the driver and let him know to pick us up in an hour. I have plans for that extra half hour of time.

“Perfect. I’ll be back for you then. Have a good interview.”

Giving both Harper and Reuben a wave, I move out of the arena and down the mostly deserted hallway in search of a private spot where I can express to Harper just how much I missed her today.