Page 45 of Mad Rivals (The Bradley Legacy #1)

We’re a Family

I blow out a breath as I answer the call, glancing in my rearview to see her pulling out of the parking lot.

“Hey, Coach,” I answer.

“Madden, I need you in my office in one hour.”

I glance at the clock. I can be there, but it’ll be tight. I don’t tell him that. I guess I’ll just speed. When Coach calls, you show the fuck up. “I’ll be there.”

I have no idea what this might possibly be about, but I had to answer.

It’s not like I could’ve stood in the parking lot arguing with Kennedy when I saw Grace walking out the front door and around the side of the tasting room.

She didn’t need to see Kennedy glaring at me with all that fire in her eyes, and she didn’t need to hear our argument, least of all when this bid is clearly going to come down to the two of us.

I hate that we’re competing here in California. This was supposed to be our safe space, and it’s turning into something else.

Not for the first time, I wonder at the possibility of us working together.

We’re going to run into a problem here if Newman wants us to draft new bids with their notes.

I only have a month of the offseason left before training camp begins, and I won’t be able to dedicate the sort of time to this project that this vineyard deserves.

Kennedy, however, can.

Her ideas were genius and on point for the demographics, but it just depends what Newman is looking for. If it’s luxury, they’ll choose VBC. If it’s sustainability with a focus on the vineyards, they’ll go with mine.

One thing I know for sure is that Cal-Wright is out of the picture.

He didn’t bother to do any market research first or he would’ve known that Newman Winery is a bit more reserved than the plans of splendor Jason presented this morning.

Lavish and exclusive craftsmanship? Hand-laid Venetian mosaics? Is he fucking nuts?

I dial Kennedy after I hang up with Coach, and she doesn’t answer. I leave a voice message anyway.

“Sorry, my coach was calling me, and I had to take that. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I knew. I didn’t want it to feel like we’re competing here in California. This was supposed to be our haven, you know? But I should’ve told you, and I get that now. Can I see you tonight?”

I leave it at that and hang up, and then I spend the rest of the drive toward Coach’s office pondering how things feel like they’re going up in smoke right now and trying to figure out how to salvage what felt like the most important thing in my life.

I arrive at the practice facility that houses Coach Brian Dell’s office, and I make my way to his secretary. Coach Clark is waiting outside Coach Dell’s office, and so are Spencer, Clay, and DJ. Trey and Zach are absent, but this was an emergency meeting, and it’s possible they’re not in town.

I glance around at everyone, my brows pushed together. “What’s going on?”

“Did you just come from a funeral?” Clay asks, his eyes moving along my suit as I glance at his athletic shorts and sleeveless Storm shirt that tells me he came here from workouts .

He’s putting in the work to be better, faster, and stronger ahead of this season.

I, on the other hand, am spending my time chasing after a woman and trying to manage a company that will eventually become mine when I really don’t have the time for it.

Maybe my priorities are in the wrong place. Or maybe his are.

“A business meeting,” I murmur.

“You can all head in,” Coach’s assistant says.

We do, and we find Trey already sitting in Coach’s office.

There aren’t enough chairs around the desk for us all to sit, so the four of us receivers stand near the back of the room while Coach Clark takes a seat next to Trey, who isn’t looking up from the fixed spot he’s staring at on the floor in front of him.

“As you all know,” Coach begins, “here at the Storm, we’re a family. We celebrate each other’s victories and mourn each other’s losses. And when one family member makes a mistake, together we all pay the consequences. Trey, I’ll hand it over to you.”

Trey looks despondent as he glances up at the rest of the receivers gathered here in the office today. “Last night, I was taken into custody on suspicion of drunk driving.”

Silence meets his confession.

“I made a mistake, and I shouldn’t have gotten behind the wheel. I’m so sorry,” he says, and he truly does sound horrified by his own actions. “I was very lucky that nobody was injured, and I have made a promise to serve whatever punishment the team and league decide upon.”

“The league will suspend you for one game, and the team has already decided that they will hand down a mandatory substance abuse program,” Coach Dell says.

He studies the rest of us standing in the back of his office.

“In addition, we’d like all six receivers to band together with some community outreach specific to at-risk youth and local charity events sponsoring addiction recovery.

We have several opportunities in mind that Deb will distribute on your way out, and you will be required to sign up for a minimum of two, while Trey will be present at all six events.

Zach was unable to make it here today, but he will be expected to attend as well. Any questions?”

Nobody says a word, and in a different setting, I could see these men here grumbling about how it’s not fair that we have extra responsibilities on our plates because one of us fucked up.

But this is a team. When one member fucks up, we all pay the price just as we all celebrate our victories as a family.

Besides, I’ve been meaning to get more involved in the community, and this feels like one place to start.

It’s as I’m heading out to my car that Spencer stops me. “How’d the bid go this morning?”

I’m glad he brought it up instead of me. It feels like mixing business with…well, business, and something about it feels off.

“It went well. I haven’t heard back from Grace just yet, but she seemed to like our focus on sustainability.”

“Her great uncle has taken quite the interest in eco-friendly construction lately, so I’m guessing he’ll be pressing for your bid.”

“And Grace?” I ask.

He shrugs. “She envisions this resort where she can get away for the weekend with friends or take a romantic trip for two…you get the picture. A one-stop shop where she can stay all weekend and have everything she could possibly want right at her fingertips.”

That’s exactly what Kennedy delivered, and it probably would have done me well to have this conversation with Spencer ahead of the bid meeting. I couldn’t take that advantage over Kennedy, though.

I don’t have a call back yet from Kennedy after I sign up for my two events and head out, but I need to get back to the office, brief John on today’s bid, button up a few other projects, and then get to the gym since I slept in with Kennedy and didn’t get a workout in before the meeting this morning.

I’m just pulling into the office when my phone starts to ring, and the number flashes as Newman Winery .

“Madden Bradley,” I answer.

“Madden, hi. It’s Grace Nash from Newman Winery. I’m calling to let you know that we were very impressed with two of the three presentations today, and I have just a few notes that I’ll send over your way with the request for new bids by Monday the sixth.”

Monday the sixth. It’s over two weeks away.

The Monday after a holiday weekend.

Two Mondays until I need to be at training camp.

It felt like I had so much time spread out in front of me just a few weeks ago, and suddenly everything feels like it’s teetering on a very tight timeline.

“I’ll get it to you before the holiday,” I say confidently, and as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them.

The woman I love is mad at me, I have new service activities added to my already full plate, I have two weeks to get into the best shape of my life, and I’m in a new place trying to build an image of myself that appeals to both my sports world and my business world.

I don’t have time to get it to her before then, but I suppose if I pull late nights and early mornings, I can get everything done.

“I know the season is starting for you shortly thereafter, and if you need to pull someone else to work on this project, I understand,” Grace says.

“This one’s important to me,” I say. And it is.

It’s a chance for me to prove how worthwhile I am to this company.

I have connections in this world, and that could be quite advantageous for Bradley Group.

“John, the man running the California branch of Bradley Group, is fully invested in all aspects of the bid, and he’ll be able to take my place in the event of my absence, but I truly don’t believe that will be a problem. ”

“Madden, it’s okay,” she says. “I get it, right? My husband is your teammate, and he was new to the Storm not so long ago. I know what it takes to build a reputation in a new town, so if you need to pass this off—”

“I won’t be passing it off. I want you to know that I will be here every step of the way.”

“Okay,” she says, but the way she says it tells me she’s pretty damn skeptical about that…which she has every right to be considering she knows what the next half a year will bring.

I head inside, brief John on how it went, and open the files Grace sent over to start editing our original plans.

As predicted after my conversation with Spencer, she liked my sustainability ideas and Kennedy’s luxury resort ideas, and she’s looking to sort of combine the two into one perfect project.

It hits me once again how much easier this would be if I could just work on it with Kennedy instead of against her…but the longer my phone call goes unreturned, the less likely that seems to be.