Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Now granted, I’ve had more than a couple false Chelsea the Mathlete sightings over the years—times when I was positive it was her, but when I sprinted closer, I discovered my mind had been playing tricks on me. But this time feels different than those times—every bit as electrifying and real as that one infuriating time I thought I’d spotted Chelsea in the stands at my game against Northwestern right before the snap and then couldn’t find her again when I had the chance to look again.
“Hey, Chelsea!” Coach Parker shouts to the young woman when he notices her arrival. “I’ve got a job for you, kiddo!”
Holy shit. Chelsea. That confirms it. It’s really her.
“Coming, Dad!”
Dad?
Did I hear that right? Coach Parker is Chelsea the Mathlete’s … father?
As my brain processes this new bit of information, my hands involuntarily loosen their grip on the bar, and down, down, down my big body goes, crashing in a crumpled, flabbergasted heap onto the grass below.
CHAPTER 7
Chelsea
IN THE DISTANCE, Luca pops up from the ground like a jack-in-the-box that’s just been freed. “I’m fine!” he shouts to nobody in particular. To emphasize his point, he yanks both arms up the same way Olympic gymnasts always do after sticking a landing, and all the players surrounding him, along with Ms. Williams and a whole lot of fans watching from the spectator areas, cheer and goad him on.
“So much for Maguire not being as much of a class clown anymore,” Dad mutters as he comes to a stop in front of Bellamy and me. He looks at Bellamy. “Did you see that stunt, Walker?”
“The tail end of it, yeah.”
“Did it change your mind about bringing Maguire here to make Moriarty question his negotiation stance?”
“Not at all,” Bellamy says smoothly. “In fact, I’m even more certain it’s a great strategy. Listen to that crowd, Jack. They love him. Surely, this story is going to get back to Moriarty somehow. When it does, let him believe we might be stupid enough to pick a player with some potential marketing appeal over a Pro Bowler.”
Dad runs a palm over his rugged features. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that.” He turns to me. “Which is why I called you over here, Chelsea. After that stunt, it’s now clear Luca the Manchild is going to be an even bigger pain in my ass than I originally thought. So, I need you to do me a favor and babysit him for me. Do whatever you have to do, as long as you keep him away from me, out of trouble, and off the uprights. I don’t want to remember he exists till Moriarty returns and it’s time to cut his unserious ass.”
I feel like barfing. It’s a complete catastrophe. Worst-case scenario.
My plan to survive training camp with Luca Maguire here was to stay under the radar and as far away from him as humanly possible during his short stint. And now Dad is commanding me to stick to Luca like glue? Fucking hell!
“And while you’re babysitting him,” Dad continues, “you might as well coach him, too, to prepare him for his next team, whoever the poor bastards might be.” He winks at me, clearly thinking he’s doing me a favor in front of Bellamy. “I don’t know if it’s possible to get that wild card to fly right, but if anyone can work miracles with a player, and especially with a linebacker, it’s you, Pop-Tart.” He turns to Bellamy. “Chelsea’s a fantastic coach. A real whiz with linebackers, especially. Both my sons wouldn’t be where they are today without her.”
Oh, Dad. He knows all about my ultimate career goals, and he’s an extremely supportive and proud father. Plus, he knows all about that upcoming job opening in operations, so he’s clearly now doing his part to convince Bellamy to give me a shot without realizing that ship has already sailed, as of a few moments ago. No, actually, it’s sunk to the bottom of the sea.
“Don’t you think someone else would do a much better job with Luca?” I ask feebly, feeling sick to my stomach and determined to weasel myself out of this horrific predicament.
“Absolutely not. On the contrary, I think you’re exactly the right person for the job.”
“But why would Luca listen to me, Dad? You know what I can do, but to Luca, I’m nobody but the head coach’s daughter.” I glance at Bellamy. Like I am to you.
“Okay, so part of the challenge will be earning his respect,” Dad says. “If anyone can do that, it’s you. And the truth is I want that motherfucker out of my hair, and everyone else will be too busy to babysit him full-time for me.” He returns to Bellamy again. “You’d be curious to see what Chelsea could do with Luca as his personal coach, wouldn’t you, Walker?”