Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 40420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
But then again, we’re not strapped for cash. Whatever we want, we get.
And I could always use an extra million dollars.
“Okay then,” I say finally. “I’ll take your offer.”
“Make the playoffs, and I’ll make you rich.”
I can’t help but grin. We shake hands and he turns away, walking back into the club.
I watch him go. Maybe I was too quick to judge Atlas. He doesn’t seem angry or resentful of Leah, or if he is, he’s doing a good job about hiding it.
That offer is insane. I’ve heard about coaches getting offers like that before, but I was working at a tiny liberal arts college before this. There was never any real money involved…
Until now.
I sigh, shake my head.
Money. Fucking money.
It’s always about money.
Back at Monray, it was about pride. It was about winning and the love of the game.
Now it’s about money.
I sigh, shaking my head. No reason it can’t be about both.
I walk back into the clubhouse, head spinning. I don’t even think about where I’m going as I move through the halls.
I find Leah in the tub room. She’s filling a cold bath for Sean while he sits on a bench nearby.
He looks up as I enter. “Hey, Coach,” he says. “You looking to get cleaned up?” He grins at the water.
I shake my head. “Had my shower for today. But you better get in there. I can smell the booze coming out of your pores from here.”
He grins at me. “Ah, c’mon, Coach. Not every day you get to beat the Pats, right?”
“Sure,” I grunt. Leah’s glancing at me the whole time, eyes darting between me and Sean, wondering what I’m going to do. “Listen, can I borrow Leah here?”
Sean shrugs. “Go for it. She was just about to torture me anyway.”
“Don’t be a baby,” she says to him. “When I come back, you’re getting in there.”
He groans, but doesn’t fight it.
I lead her out into the hall. Instead of turning toward my office, we head in the opposite direction, back toward the exit.
“How’s it going?” she asks me softly.
“I heard about Atlas.”
She goes still somehow, despite keeping pace with me. “Oh. You did.”
“You broke the news to him.”
“Yeah. Well. He needed to know.”
“I’m…” I clear my throat. “I’m glad you did it.”
She gazes at me as we step out into the parking lot. We move past the other people just coming in for the morning, nodding as we go.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks, a little playfully.
“Somewhere away from here,” I say.
“Really? Why?”
“I just…” I take a sharp breath. “I just want to be away from here for a little while. Together.”
She bites her lip and nods. “Okay.”
We reach my truck. I open the door for her and she climbs inside. I climb in behind the wheel and hesitate.
I look at her, grinning like a moron. “Know anywhere good to go?”
She laughs. “I have some ideas.”
“Just tell me where,” I say, and pull out of my parking spot.
We ride together, my heart beating fast.
15
Leah
I direct him to the only place I really love around Fargo.
It takes about a half hour. We talk a little bit as we drive, mostly staying on easy topics. I keep looking at him, unable to tear my eyes away.
I feel this strange thing in my chest. It’s like excitement, but much more than that. It’s big and intense and it keeps pulsing, pulsing, pulsing away. It’s pushing me along, banishing my fears.
It’s making me sure that I want to be with this man, one way or another.
He glances at me as we pull down a little-used stretch of highway and smiles. “What?”
“Nothing. You just don’t look like a North Dakota boy.”
He laughs. “What’s that look like?”
“Cowboy boots and a black eye.”
“Why the black eye?”
“Because you skipped work to get drunk and your wife punched you in the face.”
He grins, shaking his head. “It can’t be that bad out here.”
“It’s not,” I admit. “We locals have a very self-deprecating sense of humor about the whole thing, but really, we’re fiercely proud of this place.”
“I can understand why.” Rolling hills and small scrub brush extend all around the highway. Most of the area around here is farmland, although trees don’t grow huge on the prairie anyway.
“People look down on our state,” I tell him. “You know, we’re a flyover state, nobody wants to come here, that sort of thing.”
“I’ve heard it,” he admits. “Hell, I’ve said it.”
“We know people feel that way, and I think some folks around here like it. Honestly, a lot of people living in this state just want to be left alone to do their own thing.”
“I can see that. It’s real conservative.”
“Not just politically.” I sigh a little, remembering the way things were when I was growing up. “It’s a miracle I got out, to be honest.”