Hawk had set me up to meet with Breen Lockhart, a player who’d been traded to the San Francisco Lions this season. He’d been setting all sorts of league records, including most goals scored in a single season. Hawk had continued to tell me to be cautious, and Everly had gotten on the phone and repeatedly told me to watch my back with him. I didn’t need a warning in that department. I was always cautious when it came to men, especially professional athletes.
I had a rule: All professional athletes were off-limits.
Mixing work and pleasure was a bad idea. I was already fighting to make a name for myself in a male-dominated field. The last thing I needed was to be accused of sleeping my way to the top.
Breen and I had been on this Zoom call for half an hour, and he’d refused to answer any questions. The man was determined to meet in person.
“Sorry, I prefer face-to-face interviews, especially if you’re going to write a big story about me. So we should spend some time together.”
“A Zoom call is face-to-face. I told you that I don’t live in the city anymore, and when we set up this meeting, you didn’t have a problem doing it over Zoom,” I reminded him because, so far, this had been a total dead end.
“Well, I don’t have a game next weekend, and I’ve been meaning to get out of town. I think a trip to Cottonwood Cove sounds like a great idea.”
I narrowed my gaze. “You’re coming here for me to interview you?”
“Yes. You can show me around town, we can get to know one another, and you can ask as many questions as you want. I’m an open book.”
“If we meet in person, then you’ll be an open book? Because you appear to be a closed book so far, as you haven’t answered one question yet.”
“All in good time, Brinkley Reynolds.” He smiled, and I was fairly certain his charm worked on most women.
Personally, I didn’t like it. It was a bit cheesy. He’d spent the entire time circling around my questions. Hell, I’d take that bastard Lincoln Hendrix’s closed-off personality over this guy. Because at least with Lincoln, you knew where you stood.
Mind you, he was a complete jackass, but at least he was a straight shooter.
I could work with that.
“Fine. Send me the dates, and I’ll reserve the time to meet with you.”
“Are you single?” he asked, which was not only completely unprofessional but nervy. He hadn’t answered one of my questions, now he thought he was asking the questions?
“I don’t date athletes.” Even though I was annoyed that he’d asked, I’d prepared for this after what Hawk and Everly had told me. I’d have nothing more than friendship to offer this guy. But building relationships with the people I interviewed was also important in my industry.
“And why is that?” he teased. He was used to getting his way.
“I find that most professional athletes are pretty full of themselves. You travel often and could easily stray, and you, Breen Lockhart, have a reputation for breaking hearts.”
“Ahhh… you did your research. Well, we can be friends, right? And friends can spend the day together, talking about their lives? That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
I rolled my eyes. “I would like to interview you and tell your story.”
I needed a damn job, and I wasn’t even sure this story would get me in the door. But I was fairly certain that I could sell it to one of the NHL magazines, and at least that would garner me some income while I worked on building my portfolio.
“Okay. I’ll send you the dates. See you soon, Brinkley Reynolds.”
I ended the call and got to work researching him more than I already had. His story was a decent one. His father and his grandfather had both played for the NHL, and he’d put on his first pair of skates as soon as he started walking. People would eat it up.
They loved a good legacy story.
So, all I had to do was get him to open up and share things that no one knew about him. Dig deeper. Find out the motivation. Did he truly love the sport, or had it become a job?
Lastly, I’d find out what had changed in his life since he’d hit this new level of success.
After I’d read everything that I could find about him, I made an early dinner and sat down to scan the internet.
The first thing to come up was a photo of Lincoln Hendrix, which of course, was trending at the moment. Everyone was biting at the bit to know where he was going to play. Several well-known commentators were making guesses about where he’d go, and no one thought he’d be staying in San Francisco. It was rumored that he and his coach did not see eye to eye on things.
I didn’t blame him for being unhappy with Coach Anders because the guy hadn’t done anything to protect Lincoln. He’d taken a real beating this past season. And even though they’d won the Super Bowl, it was known that he’d been the reason they’d pulled it off.
I’d always wondered about his background. He was one of the rare athletes that had managed to keep his personal life pretty private. Aside from a few chatty ex-girlfriends, there wasn’t a lot out there about him. His mother attended most of his games, and as far as I knew, he didn’t have any siblings. I’d never heard anything about his father, either.
I hated that I wanted to know more. Hated that I’d been thinking about him these last few days since I’d seen him on my run. Hated that every time I’d gone on a run since, I’d looked for him.
I read a few articles about all the predictions that people were making and wondered who would be the lucky one to break the news. Knowing Lincoln, he’d just go out and announce it without any warning.
Everyone in town was talking about how he was here and training hard for the new season. It was funny, here in Cottonwood Cove, no one would ever sell a photo or call a news station to say what he was up to. It was that quintessential small-town mentality. A respect thing. Everyone was a bit protective of the people here. Even if they were here for a short time.
But it didn’t stop them from being excited to see him around town.
I closed my laptop and finished dinner before changing my clothes and getting ready to head to my parents’ house.
Finn had gotten an early copy of the pilot episode, and we were going to watch it together tonight.
Aside from all the excitement about the famous quarterback being here, Finn’s new series, Big Sky Ranch, was the talk of the town. I was thrilled for him. He’d always had small roles in things, but this was the first time that he was the lead in a series. He’d been working hard for years, and I was excited for him because this felt like it was going to be his big break.
I walked the few blocks to my parents’ house, the home I’d grown up in. The water sat off in the distance, and it was a perfect spring evening. Not too hot just yet, but not cold either.
Large, overgrown trees curved over the street leading to my parents’ house, and I made my way up the cobblestone path to the front door.
When I stepped inside, Gracie rushed over and jumped into my arms. I carried her through the house to the large family room. Everyone was there, and Finn was messing around with the remote, but he looked nervous, which was rare for him.
We made our rounds hugging everyone and settled onto the oversized sectional couch. I sat between Georgia and Lila, and my mom had platters of food out on the coffee table. Chicken fingers and tater tots and pizza rolls.