Read The Final Score Page 2


  Coach slapped him on the back. "You sound just like your dad. We're going to miss him around here." Dad had retired. He understood the reasons for it. The Sabers had won the championship last season. His dad was thirty-seven and he wanted to go out on top, plus he had the knee issue that had cropped up. He'd fought through it all season, and the docs said he needed surgery.

  Sure, he could have rehabbed and come back. Mom and Dad had discussed it. Dad had even talked to Nathan about it, but in the end, it was his father's decision to make. Man, Nathan was going to miss watching him play.

  And now to step into his shoes, for this team, on this field?

  Yeah, that was the reason for the tight knot in his chest.

  One of many.

  "Let's go talk over the new season," coach said.

  Nathan pushed all those pressures aside and tried to remember to breathe. He plastered on his signature grin, the one that said "I've got this," even when he didn't.

  "Yeah, Coach. Let's do that."

  THREE

  MIA LIVED FOR HER PLANNER AND HER CHECKLISTS. At this moment she needed them more than anything, because she had a million things to do. The movers were supposed to be here an hour ago and they were late. She had a separate furniture delivery that was supposed to be here this morning, and it was almost noon and so far no one had showed up. She had a client coming in at three. If stuff didn't show up soon, she and her client were going to be sitting on the damn floor.

  Not good. Not good at all. Her heart beat like a jackhammer in her chest.

  She stopped and remembered her breathing. Falling to pieces wasn't going to do anyone any good.

  She pivoted and headed down the hall of her very spacious and very empty offices.

  "Monique, are you in here?"

  Monique, her best friend from college and her absolute lifesaver, was on the phone, so she held up a finger to silence Mia.

  "You need to be here yesterday," Monique said, obvious impatience in her voice. "We had a guaranteed eight a.m. delivery time and it's now eleven thirty and no one is here. So get it done and if you can't, then transfer me to the manager."

  Monique listened for a few seconds, then smiled, shooting Mia that look, the one that said she had it all under control. And when she nodded at Mia, Mia exhaled.

  This was why she'd begged and cajoled and pushed Monique into moving from Texas to San Francisco to be her executive manager. No one had better organizational skills or the take-no-shit demeanor that Monique did. When Mia had decided to start up her company, she knew she wouldn't be able to do this without having Monique on board.

  Monique finally hung up. "The movers are on the way. They got hung up in traffic, then thought they could stop for lunch. I made sure to let them know their movers could have lunch after they delivered our furniture."

  Mia exhaled. "That's why you're the best."

  "Now I'm about to crawl up the ass of the supply delivery people."

  "Monique Parker, will you marry me?"

  Monique laughed. "You are pretty and all, but I like dick. Thanks for the offer, though."

  Mia laughed. "Fine, then. Don't marry me. Just continue to be awesome."

  "Girl, I'm always awesome. Now go away and let me work my magic."

  Mia walked away and wandered through the new offices, still unable to believe she'd managed to get all this up and running just as she'd envisioned. She had her brothers and her parents to thank for a lot of it, especially her brother Flynn. She'd been so hesitant at first to set up her company in the same city as one of her brothers, but Flynn had been instrumental in helping her. He had contacts everywhere, and he'd hooked her up with an amazing real estate agent who'd found the perfect office space in the Embarcadero Center, right in the heart of the Financial District.

  The location and the space were ideal. They'd had the office re-carpeted and painted, and it looked fresh and new. Now all she needed was furniture.

  Her phone buzzed with a text. She smiled when she saw Nathan's name come up.

  How's it going?

  She typed back: Insanity here. How about you?

  He replied with: Intense. But cool.

  She could well imagine. She was as excited for Nathan's new beginnings as she was for her own.

  She typed back. Let's decompress together. Dinner tonight?

  Yup.

  She grinned. How does 7 work? Going to be crazy here.

  It took him a few minutes to reply: Sounds good. Later.

  She was still thinking about their lunch yesterday, and her response to his touch. It had been brief, but she had been surprised by the intensity of it. It was probably just her heightened nerves. She'd been wired lately because of all of . . . this. That had to be it.

  Because good friends were hard to come by, so she didn't want to screw it up with sex. Sex could ruin a great friendship, and she never wanted to lose Nathan.

  And if that hot spark of attraction still remained between them, they were adults and they could handle it.

  She shook it off and went in search of Monique to check on the status of those deliveries.

  FOUR

  AFTER TALKING TO BOTH HIS PARENTS ON THE PHONE, as well as his little brother, Sam, who never missed an opportunity to FaceTime, Nathan got to work. He'd leased a town house in Santa Clara, near the stadium. When he'd first moved here last season, his parents offered up their house for his use, but he knew they'd come and stay there as well, and while he loved his family, he craved independence. And privacy. God he'd really wanted some privacy.

  He'd shared plenty of apartments in college, sometimes with several guys. There was nothing worse than three guys sharing one bathroom. This was his time to be alone. As he walked into his bedroom and bathroom, for the first time in his life he actually felt like an adult. It was about damn time. He'd stayed the extra year in college, not only to finish up his dual degrees in finance and mathematics, but to win the national championship again.

  He'd been offered the chance to enter the draft in his junior year at Texas, but his mom wouldn't have it. Education had been more important to her than football. His coach had told him it wasn't a good year for quarterbacks in the draft that year anyway.

  It turned out they were both right. He'd finished up his degrees, and he'd been drafted in the second round by his dad's team.

  It was all good now.

  His phone buzzed. He grinned when he saw Jamal's name.

  "Sup?"

  Jamal laughed. "Chillin'. You?"

  "Doing some paperwork. Hey, I went to the stadium today. Talked to coach."

  "You did, huh? That's cuz you're the hot-shit new quarterback, so you're special as fuck."

  Nathan laughed. "Yeah, baby, that's me. And you can't wait for me to throw you a pass since you're the hot-shit wide receiver."

  "You know it. And now that the other hot-shit receiver is gone, it's my time to shine."

  "'Bout damn time, isn't it?"

  "Yeah. And I've been waitin' on you for a year now. You as good as your dad?"

  That was the million-dollar question, wasn't it? Or the multimillion-dollar one. "You caught passes from me for three years in Texas. What do you think? You've seen my awesome rocket arm."

  He heard Jamal's infectious laugh. "We're gonna blow it up this year, Riley."

  Jamal was exactly what he needed right now. He was so damn glad his best friend was on the same team. "Hell yes we are."

  "Now get your ass over here and let's play some games."

  He looked down at his phone. He had a few hours to kill before he met Mia. He looked over at his computer and the bills he needed to pay. Yeah, that could wait.

  "Be right there."

  MIA WAS WIPED OUT. THE FURNITURE HAD BEEN PUT in place just in time for her three o'clock appointment with one of the hottest new cornerbacks in the league. She left all the details about office stuff to Monique, and brought Clyde Motts into their "Oh my God we finished setting this up thirty minutes ago" fantastic conferen
ce room. And then she sold him on how amazing her company was and what they could do for him from a management standpoint. That part, at least, she had together, from financial to contractual to promotion. She already had Clyde's agent as part of her company, so she sat with them. Mia brought in her finance and marketing team to do one hell of a presentation, and thank God the tech team had managed to hook everything up, because the video was a knock-you-right-out-of-your-cleats demonstration.

  She name-dropped a high-profile basketball player and hockey player who they'd already signed, along with an award-winning pitcher. Then she added on the tight end she'd signed, also a huge name. She could tell Clyde was trying to play it cool, but he was impressed. By the time he left the office, she knew he'd sign with MHC Management.

  She still smiled whenever she looked at the letterhead with those initials. MHC. Mia Helene Cassidy. It was her. Her baby. Her company. She sucked in a breath. So much pressure to succeed.

  She could do this. She would do this.

  She found Monique in her office, and leaned against the open doorway.

  Monique looked up and pulled off her tortoise-frame glasses. "Well?"

  "He didn't commit, but he will."

  "If he's smart he will. And that boy is smart as hell. What did Victoria say?"

  "I haven't heard back from her yet. I'm sure she'll text me after she has a chat with Clyde."

  "He'll sign with us. Why wouldn't he?"

  "And yet another reason I need you with me, Monique. That positive attitude."

  "I'm just a ray of sunshine and utter beauty in your life, Mia."

  Mia laughed. "That you are."

  "Hey, do you want to have dinner tonight? I have a date and he has a really gorgeous friend. We're going to try out this new Korean place that everyone's talking about."

  She shook her head. "Thanks, but I already have plans."

  "Ooh, a hot date?"

  "No. Dinner with Nathan Riley."

  Monique arched a perfect brow. "So it is a hot date."

  The only person she'd ever told about her onetime hookup with Nathan was Monique, because she was the only person Mia trusted with all her secrets. "Not ever going to happen again."

  Monique leaned back in her chair and shoved her pen into her gorgeous afro. "I don't know why. The man is delicious."

  "The why is because we're friends."

  "Oh, and you can't fuck a friend?"

  Fortunately, Monique's office was at the other end of the hall, away from everyone else, so no one could hear them. "No, I can't. My friendship with Nathan means too much to me."

  "Pff. Bullshit. You're just afraid it was too hot for you and you might fall in love with him."

  "I am not afraid, and falling in love with Nathan is the last thing on my mind." She walked in and slid into the chair across from Monique's desk. "Though it was very hot sex. But love? I don't have time for love. I'm building a dynasty here."

  "Uh-huh. You can build all the dynasties you want. But you can still jump on Nathan Riley."

  She shook her head. "What if I want to bring him on board MHC?"

  "Do you?"

  "I don't know. The thought just popped into my head. But if I did, I can't have sex with him and then sign him as a client, too."

  "Why not? Wouldn't that be just an added incentive, like a fringe benefit?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Monique. You have like . . . zero boundaries."

  Monique grinned. "I know. Isn't it great? How do you think I landed a date with third-floor hottie?"

  Mia arched a brow. "Your date tonight is with elevator guy?"

  Monique nodded. "Yes. Hot business-suit elevator guy."

  "He is extremely sexy."

  "Yes he is, in that buttoned-up, tie-wearing, you want to take all his clothes off kind of way."

  Mia laughed. "Been thinking about that, have you?"

  "I have. I intend to explore him in depth after dinner tonight. Maybe loosen up that designer necktie he wears, along with some of his other clothes."

  Mia shook her head. "I can't wait for the details."

  She got up and went back to her office. She finished up for the day, and she and Monique locked up the office. They took the elevator downstairs and walked outside.

  "You sure you don't want me and elevator guy to come to dinner with you? I could point out Nathan's fine ass and remind you of how great he was in the sack."

  Mia turned Monique in the opposite direction. "Oh my God no. Enjoy dinner alone with hot elevator guy. Try to call him by his real name."

  "Are you sure?" Monique asked as she started to walk away. "I can recall you damn near reciting poetry about all of Nathan's fine attributes. Don't forget about his enormous--"

  Fortunately, whatever Monique said was drowned out by traffic sounds.

  Mia slid into her jacket, loving the feel of the cool, crisp July evening breeze. Having grown up in Texas, summers were always hot and humid. San Francisco summers were entirely different. She loved everything about it. She could get out and walk, and there were always people around. There was a pulse to this city like it was a living, breathing thing, and she enjoyed all of it, from the clanging of the trolleys whisking their way down the street to the honking of the boats in the bay to the fast hustle of people going to and from their jobs. It was high energy while somehow also being laid-back.

  The first time she'd visited Flynn several years ago, he'd taken her sightseeing through the city and she'd known she had to live here someday. She just fit here.

  She got on the train at the BART station, rode a couple of stops and got off, then walked the block to her town house, a charming Victorian she'd fallen madly in love with on first sight.

  The location was perfect, near Dolores Park, with a variety of restaurants and plenty of shops nearby. She adored everything about it, from the original brick steps to the gorgeous forest green front door with its stained-glass inserts. Inside was a beautiful original oak floor and plenty of living space. The owners had renovated the place so it was fresh and modern while still retaining its eighteen hundreds charm. She had fallen instantly in love with the bay window in the living room that let in so much light, the lovely stone fireplace and the small garden out back. San Francisco was tight on space, so to get even a smidgen of an outdoor area was a bonus.

  She walked up the stairs to her bedroom and kicked off her shoes, then lay back on her bed, taking a few minutes to re-center herself. It had been a long, fairly stressful day, so breathing was important. She laid her hands over her stomach and closed her eyes, focusing on the ceiling as she inhaled, then exhaled. If she had more time she'd go into her spare bedroom and do yoga, but she had to get ready for dinner, so she did about ten minutes of focused breathing, then got up and went into the bathroom. She washed her face, redid her makeup and changed clothes. By the time she went downstairs she felt immensely calmer. She had Monique to thank for getting her into yoga.

  When they'd first met, Mia was all about school and studying, and Monique had told her she was a ball of nervous energy and anxiety. Then she'd dragged her to a yoga class and changed her life. Mia changed her diet and exercise routine and had slept better than ever before in those months following.

  Of course, she'd like to think she taught calm, centered and all-about-Zen Monique how to cut loose and party. Reluctant at first, Monique had eventually taken partying to a new level and the two of them had been inseparable all through college. And now Monique was here with her as her right hand. Mia smiled. Sometimes the fates worked in your favor.

  The doorbell rang and she went to answer it. It was Nathan, looking entirely too delectable in his relaxed jeans and a gray Henley, his muscles straining against the dark cotton of his shirt.

  Friend zone, Mia, remember?

  Yeah, yeah. With all the work she'd been doing over the past year, she hadn't made time for fun. Fun being sex. Which was why she was ogling Nathan like she was sex starved.

  Because she was.

  "He
y," she said. "Come on in."

  He wandered in and started looking around. "Nice place. If you like old shit."

  She punched him in the shoulder. "Shut up. My place is amazing."

  "Yeah. If you like old shit. How old is this place anyway?"

  "It was built in the eighteen hundreds. But you know, it's been modernized since then, asshole."

  He stopped and turned to face her. "You mean you can actually use the bathroom indoors?"

  She laughed. "You are such a dick."

  He shot her a grin. "That's why you like me. Because of my dick."

  "No. I do not."

  He gave her that look, the one where his chin came down, and he slanted a heavy-lidded gaze at her. It was sexy as hell and it made her quiver.

  "Come on," he said, "show me your awesome old place."

  "Vintage, Nathan."

  "Sure. Vintage."

  She took him on the tour and she had to admit he at least acted like he was interested as she pointed out crown moldings and arched doorways.

  They had worked their way upstairs. He stopped in the doorway of her bedroom. He glanced at her bed, then looked over at her.

  "Nice big bed. Expecting nice, big company?"

  "No. I just like to stretch out."

  He leaned in closer to her. "Uh-huh. Hiding a boyfriend you haven't told me about?"

  "No." He smelled entirely too good so she stepped away. "Let me show you the bathroom."

  She caught his smirk and wanted to slap it off his face. The problem with having a friend who knew you so well, and having said friend be someone you'd once slept with, was he also knew you well enough to know when you were thinking sex things about him.

  And now that they were living in the same city again, this was going to be a constant problem. At least until she got laid again and she stopped thinking about Nathan in a sexual way.

  She'd have to put "Have Sex" on the top of the To-Do list in her planner.

  "Okay, so it's kind of cool, in a girlie way."

  She rolled her eyes. "There isn't a single spot of pink in the entire place. It's not girlie. It's just not all black and white and chrome like your place. Which, by the way, is decorated like a garage."

  He laughed. "Is not."

  "Seriously, Nathan. You need an interior designer to put some color in that place. It's so stark."

  He shrugged. "It's fine. It's not like I spend a lot of time there anyway."