Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I snort at that as Dad rolls his eyes. He pats my mom’s hand. “Marcy, please.”
“Thomas! No sweet tea,” she stresses then looks at me. “How have you been living here?”
I beam at her, loving how ridiculous she sounds. I’ve missed her so much. “I don’t come out to eat much,” I tell her, and she groans loudly.
“Just let me get a Coke.”
“We have Pepsi,” the waiter says with a wince, and I know he knows it’s coming.
“For the love of God!” she complains, and then she sets him with a look. “Do you have water? Or is it that sparkling crap?”
Dad’s booming laugh only makes me laugh harder as the waiter basically runs in the other direction, promising the water is not sparkling.
“I hate it here,” she tells us, and I can’t stop laughing. She’s absolutely insane, and I’ve missed her so much.
“Good thing I’m going farther down, huh?”
I just got word that I am being transferred to North Carolina for a new contract with three teams I haven’t gotten the names of yet. Troy thinks they are professional teams, but I think that would be too good to be true. I’ve been doing great and bringing in more money with my success rate, but I haven’t gotten to work in professional sports yet. I’m excited and hopeful. This could really elevate my career, even though I’m already the best in my field in the short time I’ve been in it.
Troy has worked for the company for years, and his success rate is nowhere near mine. When I mentioned my dissertation during the interview process, I told them I had formulas and a program that I have scientific proof is effective. That’s why UT and Vandy wanted me, but I chose to come here. Sometimes I feel guilty, but then I’m also excited.
Troy knows how much I offer because he has mentioned branching off from his uncle’s company and starting our own. Each time I do a study on an athlete, I find new ways, new formulas, to help with the athlete’s range. Daddy doesn’t want me to go into business with Troy, but I don’t know. The work I’m doing is exciting, and if I do decide to go on my own, I can accept contracts anywhere and still return home to help with Mom’s and Dad’s athletes. Sometimes I miss home a lot, but at the same time, I am ready to see where this career will take me.
“Thank God. I bet they have sweet tea.”
“I’m sure they do,” I say to my mom.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
My upcoming move is why my parents are here. They’re helping me pack and are going to travel with me to get me settled. When I told them I was being transferred, of course they were excited—until they found out I would be even farther from them. Dad being Dad, though, he told me to let him know when moving day was, and they’d be here.
I sold all my furniture to the company that I work for so that they can use the furnished apartment for my replacement. They took over the lease and even leased me a place in North Carolina. It’ll be furnished, which makes me feel like I may not be there for long. I don’t know how I feel about that, but I’m just relieved it’s not South Carolina, where I know he plays.
While I’m supposed to be getting over him, taking my relationship with Troy to the next level, I find myself in bed watching the IceCats on ESPN. I zoom in on his face and allow myself to remember how those lips felt on mine, on my body. When he scored his first hat trick of the season the other night, I let myself relish the memory of the two he gave me.
Sometimes I wonder if he still has my hat. I’m sure he set it on fire by now. I follow his stats, and it’s becoming a very unhealthy obsession of mine. I’ve even analyzed him and have ideas for how to help his shot. Not that I’d ever get a chance to help him. I know it’s bad for me, but it feels like it’s giving me something of him but isn’t requiring me to give him anything of myself that I know I’ll never get back. I don’t know; I could just be a fucking psycho, which is probably the case anyway.
Once we get our drinks, we order some appetizers as Mom tells me all about the fall ball season. As I knew they would, her team won state and even regionals, but they lost the championship by one run. She’s obviously still devastated. But proud, nonetheless. “Did Granny call you the other day?”
I nod. “Yeah, we talked for a bit. Is her foot okay?”