Page 33 of The New York Nighthawks, Vol. 2

DEMPSEY

My phone vibrated on the top shelf of my locker, and I stopped undressing to grab it. “Hey,” I greeted my agent, Gil, when I answered. I’d been waiting for this call for a week.

“So I got a call from one of the Best Sports reps—a friend of mine.”

“Did they offer?”

Best Sports was a huge chain of sporting goods stores.

They started out as one mom-and-pop shop and practically grew into a dynasty.

But the company was still family run and owned, which was one of the reasons I loved the idea of being their spokesperson.

I knew they wanted the face of the company to be someone without scandal or anything that would be damaging to the company.

I’d always been all about my job. I hadn’t even gone on a real date in more years than I could count, so nothing in my past would keep me out of the running. After meeting with the owners, I was confident that I had an excellent shot at being signed for this deal.

It was also a long-term gig, which was exactly what I was looking for. They wanted someone who would represent them long into their old age, who would become a member of the family.

This endorsement would get me what I needed to finish a project I’d had in the works for nearly a decade.

I came from a low-income area of New York City.

My parents had me in high school and worked their asses off to make sure I had a good education and kept me out of trouble with community sports.

Although the center had some state funding, the teams and equipment weren’t free, so my parents had scrimped for every penny.

I’d been lucky to get one of the limited spots those first years.

A lot of kids hadn’t been able to afford it, or simply missed applying until they were already full.

Not all of those kids had gone on to become troubled youths, but there were more than there should have been.

My best friend had joined a gang by the time he was twelve.

When he was killed at fifteen during a retaliation shooting by a rival gang, I swore to do whatever I could to help as many kids as possible.

I wanted to build centers that offered more competitive sports options, classes that taught basic skills as well as nutrition, and even some job training.

A few places provided similar classes and activities, though not all, but not only were they few and far between, they cost more than a lot of families could pay in those areas.

My goal was to open centers with an alternate funding source so that almost everything they offered was free. And I wanted a lot of them.

I’d been drafted at eighteen, and it hadn’t taken long for my skill to earn me a high salary.

But even before I had money to put into the project, I started working on it.

Even when I became one of the highest-paid receivers in the NFL, I knew I couldn’t make this happen on my own.

Still, I’d kept working on it, buying up land, making deals, finding donors, anything I could do to pave my way toward my ultimate goal.

I could have paid to build a few of the centers on my own, but I wouldn’t be able to sustain them long-term on my income, especially after I retired.

And though I had a long list of donors, the centers needed a continuous stream of money.

I’d been smart with my money over the years, and I would be able to live out my retirement very, very comfortably.

There were other long-term endorsement deals that I’d secured, but when I found out Best Sports was looking for a new face, I was willing to jump through any hoops they wanted.

Every penny they paid me was going right into the coffers for the community centers.

The signing bonus from the deal would be enough to build and furnish over a dozen, and the income would go a long way in keeping them funded.

Gil sighed, bringing me out of my thoughts. “The rep was doing me a favor and called to warn me. You’re the one they want. They think you’re the perfect fit, except for one thing. And it’s important enough that they might go another way.”

“Okay. What is it, and how do we make it happen?”

There was a long pause before Gil finally spoke again. “They want someone more settled. You’re not exactly young, and even though you’ve got a clean rep, they’re looking for someone who fits the description of a family man for their campaign.”

“A family man?” I asked as I grabbed a clean towel and used it to wipe at the sweat still trickling down the back of my neck. “What does that mean? I’m very close with my parents and brothers.” I sat down on the bench and picked up my water bottle.

“Not family like siblings, dude. Family as in a wife and kids.”

I’d just taken a huge gulp of water, and at Gil’s announcement, I nearly spat it across the room. “What the fuck?”

My teammates stopped whatever they were doing and turned to stare at me in surprise. I was generally a very easy-going guy and rarely raised my voice unless I was on the field or very, very pissed. Or, in this case, shocked as hell.

“They want the picket fence image for their spokesman.”

“That’s…” I didn’t know what it was.

“Look, D, I’m not saying it’s logical. I’m just passing along the info. It’ll be a few more weeks before they make a decision. Maybe you can do something to change their minds? I’ll keep doing what I do, but you might want to think about this and decide if it’s worth it.”

“Worth what, exactly?” I huffed, frustrated and bewildered at the same time.

“That’s for you to figure out. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.”

He hung up before I could say another word, and I pulled my phone from my ear to stare at the screen as though it would answer my questions.

“Yo, D,” Ames, one of our offensive linemen and my best friend, called out. “Everything okay?”

I nodded and pushed to my feet, tossing my phone back into my locker before stripping off the last of my gear and clothing. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I ran over the conversation with Gil in my head. What the fuck was I supposed to do?

Every muscle in my body protested as I marched into the showers. This had been a grueling practice, but we had a big game coming up, and we were gonna be ready. I didn’t have time to be thinking about other shit.

The hot water eased some of my aches, but I was still strung tight as I returned to my locker to get dressed.

“Seriously, D,” Ames pushed as he plopped down on the bench in front of the locker beside mine. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I yanked up my jeans and buttoned them. “Best Sports,” I grumbled.

“They go with someone else?” he asked, suddenly serious. He knew what this meant to me.

“Not yet, but Gil called in a favor and found out they have some conditions I don’t meet.”

“Conditions?”

I pulled on a T-shirt and sat beside Ames to put on my socks and shoes. “Apparently, they’re looking for a family man.”

“I’m guessing they mean a serious relationship?”

“Like rings and a picket fence.”

Rigby, one of our punters, had been looking at his phone, but he put it down and twisted to look at me.

“So make it happen.” If it had been Ames talking, I would have laughed hysterically at the absurd suggestion.

But Rigby wasn’t a joker. He was a good guy, one of the best, but he was a grump and serious all the time.

“Make it happen? Like get married?”

Rigby nodded and stood, retrieving his keys and wallet from his locker before shoving them in his pocket. “Yeah. If you’re serious about this gig, do what it takes, man.”

I gaped at him as he clapped me on the shoulder and strolled out of the locker room. When the door shut behind him, I swung my head around to stare at Ames. Instead of wearing an equally astonished expression like I’d expected, he looked thoughtful.

“You can’t seriously agree with him,” I practically sputtered.

“Well, I mean. If you didn’t live like a fucking monk, you’d have a few girls to choose from.”

I shot him a look, and he just grinned. The fucker didn’t have any room to judge on that front. I hadn’t seen him with a woman who wasn’t family in…I didn’t even know how long. We’d both been too focused on our careers to deal with the bullshit that came along with a relationship.

“D, you’re a hot receiver for the New York Nighthawks,” piped up Colt, a long snapper in his rookie season. “It shouldn’t be too hard to find a woman to wear your ring. You could probably ask the next woman on the street, and she’d fall at your feet.”

I was about to tell him how fucking ridiculous that idea was when our team captain—and starting quarterback—Prentice walked up and shot Colt a disapproving frown.

“Don’t do something stupid like getting engaged to a random jersey chaser.

You’ll have a fuck of a lot of explaining to do when you finally find your woman.

” He turned his intense gaze on me and raised an eyebrow.

“And you’d be seriously fucked if you’re still married to someone else. ”

I nodded, acknowledging that I’d heard his advice loud and clear. He returned the gesture and stalked to the exit, probably off to meet his wife and child. A small trickle of envy sifted through my veins, but I shook it off.

I wasn’t going to marry just anyone in order to secure the endorsement. I’d have to figure out something else.