Places in My Heart Page 18

  “What’s got you in a good mood so early in the morning, Drummond?”

  Omar glanced up at his teammate. “What’s up, Todd? It’s a good day.”

  Todd Elliot dropped into a seat, leaving one chair between them. “Must be. Heard you had a new agent, and she’s fine as hell.”

  “I hired her for her knowledge of the game, not for her looks.” He curbed the urge to say what he really wanted, but added, “Oh, and if I were you, I’d be careful what you say about her. I don’t think her brother would take too kindly to it.”

  Todd slanted him a glance. “Who’s her brother?”

  “Malcolm Gray.” Todd didn’t get a chance to reply because the tight ends coach entered with one other player, but judging by the man’s expression, Omar had gotten his point across. When the meeting ended, it was time to hit the practice field.

  By the end of the day with the evening walk-through, he was more than ready to grab a bite to eat and go home. As he was leaving, one of his teammates called out to him.

  “Wait up, Drummond.”

  He shifted his duffel to the other shoulder and waited.

  “Hey, man. I heard about what your agent is going for in your contract. I hope she can pull it off.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You haven’t seen it?” He dug out his cell and brought up an article.

  Omar read it, and his heart nearly stopped. He handed the phone back. “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

  “Is she looking to increase her roster?”

  “I don’t know,” he said without turning around. And he didn’t care. Once again, a woman only looking to use him for her fifteen minutes of fame had fooled him. This time it hurt more than he could have ever imagined.

  * * *

  Tuesday evening, Morgan tried to call Omar again. He hadn’t responded to her text earlier, and she knew the team was done for the day. She had a new thought with respect to his contract she wanted to talk to him about before the meeting tomorrow. There was no practice, and she hoped they could have some time to talk afterward. The call went to voice mail.

  “Hey, Omar. Give me a call as soon as you can. I’d like to go in a different direction than what we discussed. It would give you a little more money if we can pull it off, but I want to run it by you first. If we don’t get a chance to talk tonight, we can talk briefly before the meeting. I’ll be there at nine forty-five.”

  She started to worry when he didn’t return her call, but remembered that Malcolm often stayed to himself during camp, especially the first couple of weeks.

  After a fitful night, Morgan dressed in a conservative gray skirt suit and black pumps, inspected herself once more and left. She saw Omar drive into the lot as she stepped out of her car. She waited for him to park and met him halfway. She smiled. “Good morning. Did you get my message?”

  Omar drilled her with an angry stare. “Let’s just cut the bull and get this over with.”

  Morgan was taken aback by his tone. “I don’t understand.”

  “The next time you want to go all out for the media, leave me out of it.”

  Dread uncoiled in her belly. “What the hell are you talking about? What media?”

  “Don’t stand here and pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he gritted out.

  “I don’t,” she snapped.

  “So, the media got that quote by themselves.” He spared her one last glare and stalked off.

  Morgan was so outdone, she didn’t know what to do. She fished her cell out of her purse and searched in sports news. What she found weakened her knees. She hadn’t told anyone about her plans. How did the media get wind of those figures? They were the ones she initially talked to Omar about, but not the new ones. She caught up to him inside.

  “I didn’t do this, Omar.”

  He ignored her and kept walking.

  “You can’t possibly believe I would do something like this,” she whispered harshly. “And if you had responded to my calls and messages over the past two days, you’d know that.” The office door opened and team’s owner, Mr. Lawler, waved them in. Morgan schooled her features and placed a smile on her face. “Good morning, Mr. Lawler. Morgan Gray.” She turned to the general manager and nodded a greeting. “Mr. Green.”

  “Ms. Gray, it’s a pleasure. Good to see you, Omar. Please have a seat.”

  Omar shook hands with the men and sat. “Same here.”

  Morgan took a couple of calming breaths to rein in her temper. She was sorely tempted to walk out and let Omar deal with it on his own, but that would just ruin everything she had worked to accomplish. Never being one to cower, she decided to meet the challenge head-on. “It has just come to my attention that there have been statements in the media supposedly made by me regarding these negotiations. I assure you I did not release any information, but I will find out who did.” She skewered Omar with a look.

  “We appreciate your candidness, Ms. Gray,” the owner said.

  “Thank you.”

  Mr. Green nodded. “I don’t have to tell you how integral Omar is to our team.” He proceeded to provide a long list of Omar’s accomplishments, detailing how well he fit with the team currently and within the future vision. He gave high praise for the way Omar had filled in last season with the injury of one of their receivers.

  Morgan waited until he finished. “I agree that Omar has filled a critical role in the Cobras organization. And my client is prepared to continue bringing the same dedication this season in that role.” She smiled inwardly when she saw the moment they understood.

  Mr. Green’s brow lifted. “Are you suggesting we move Omar to the wide receiver position?”

  “You said it yourself—he’s a valuable asset. We all know that Colin won’t be returning for the first half of the season, at best. It’s a known fact that without him, you’re weak on the left side. I know it and so do the other thirty-one teams. Until my client stepped in last season, you were O-and-four.”

  “Granted, we’re grateful for the way he’s played for us, but changing positions is just not done.”

  “Not according to the three other teams who have been ringing my phone.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw surprise cross Omar’s face. “Or the ten games he played as your wide receiver last season. And at a great bargain to the team, I might add.”

  “I’m not sure we can do this.”

  “Omar’s numbers were second only to Marcus Dupree’s...in the league. He went over and above, and is the reason you made it to the playoffs. This is his home, and he’s committed to winning. He knows the playbook. The time it would take for you to develop another player could cost you a trip to the playoffs. Do you want to risk missing the opportunity to bring a Super Bowl win to your fans?” Morgan remained calm on the outside, but on the inside her heart raced and butterflies danced in her belly. She could see the wheels turning in both men’s heads and almost feel their surrender. When it came, she wanted to shout for joy.

  “We’re willing to settle for sixty million over the next four years, which is a bargain compared to the eighty million he’s worth, plus a signing bonus, performance incentives and more guaranteed money.”

  After several more minutes of discussion, the meeting ended with handshakes. As she and Omar pushed through the doors leading to the parking lot, Morgan thought she might burst from excitement. The only thing marring this perfect moment was the tension and anger between her and Omar. Once they were near her car, she stopped and rounded on him.

  “Do you actually believe I would risk your career and mine by being foolish enough to brag to the media about a potential contract? Even if I were that arrogant, I wouldn’t do it, because I love you.” She chuckled bitterly. “Funny, you said that I had to trust you in order for this to work. Too bad that only goes one way. I g
uess I’m not the only one acting as judge, jury and executioner. Congratulations. You get to end your career at home and as a wide receiver. I’ll mail you the forms so you can exercise the exit clause. Then you can be free to find a more trustworthy agent.” Not bothering to wait for his response, she spun on her heel, covered the short distance to her car, got in and drove off without a backward glance. Only when she hit the freeway did she acknowledge the pain surrounding her heart and let the tears fall.

  Morgan moved through the office like a ghost for the remainder of the week, closing out the case and working with Siobhan on press releases. She’d also had to field questions from the media regarding her entrance into the world of sports management. Through it all, she kept a smile on her face.

  At the family dinner Sunday afternoon, Morgan picked at her food. Animated conversation flowed around her, but she couldn’t muster up the energy to contribute. Her family had decided to have an additional get-together to celebrate her successes at the company and in negotiating her first contract. And since there was no football practice, Malcolm joined them. He watched her like a hawk and had been reluctant to leave her side for one moment, so much so that he had helped with the cooking.

  “Morgan, I heard that you signed on another player,” her father said. “How many is that now?”

  “Two.” Less than three days after news broke about the deal she had brokered for Omar, two of his teammates had called her—the star quarterback, whose current agent would be retiring from the business due to illness, and a defensive end in his second year who would be a force to be reckoned with in coming years.

  “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” her mother asked, studying Morgan critically.

  “I’m good, Mom. Just coming off an adrenaline high. I think I might take a few days off next week and get out of Dodge for a bit.” Omar’s cabin flashed through her mind, along with everything they had done over their weekend. The sadness that had been her constant companion since Wednesday threatened to overwhelm her once more, but she forced it back. It was time to move on. If it’s time to move on, why haven’t you mailed those papers? She signed the papers dissolving her and Omar’s partnership, but had not sent them to him as yet. Because part of her knew that sending those papers would represent the end of their relationship.

  * * *

  Omar should have been celebrating...in more ways than one. He couldn’t get over how Morgan turned Green’s words on him and had the man believing he’d just gotten away with the deal of the century. Because of her, he would be back to his preferred position, and at an average yearly salary that damn near doubled his current one.

  But the general manager wasn’t the only person whose words had come back to haunt him. Omar kept seeing the hurt in her eyes when she had thrown his back in his face. Had he judged her unfairly? And if he was wrong, how did the media get a direct quote from her? He pondered the question for the entire ride home and still didn’t have an answer by the time he arrived. He knew his family was awaiting news about the contract, but in his present mood, he didn’t feel like talking and sent a group text. All he wanted was to go back to three days ago when everything in his life had been perfect.

  Over the next three practice days, Omar tried to bury his emotions in order to get through the daily grind. Not an easy feat when player after player, after offering congratulations, made mention of Morgan. It only served to make him miss her more. He’d even had a couple of inquiries whether she would be willing to take on new clients. He could only answer, “You’ll have to ask her.”

  The more he thought on it, the more he realized that he might have made a mistake. None of what he read came up in the meeting. He had finally listened to the message she had left regarding a new direction, and it only conjured up more questions. He’d picked up the phone several times but didn’t know what to say and hung up before the call completed. Despite the distance between them, the love he felt for her still burned bright. His nights were filled with memories of her smile, the kisses they shared and the most erotic game of “Madden” he’d ever played. And each morning, he woke up hard and reaching for her.

  After practice ended for the day on Saturday, Omar showered and made his way to the lot. His steps slowed upon seeing Malcolm leaning against Omar’s truck. “Not today,” he muttered. Actually, he was surprised it had taken this long for Malcolm to approach him. “Something on your mind, Gray?”

  “My sister didn’t do what you accused her of. You’re my teammate and a friend, but my brothers and I promised ourselves that the next guy to break our sister’s heart would get his ripped out. So far, she’s managed to save your sorry ass, but don’t count on it lasting. If she sheds one more tear, all bets are off.” Malcolm straightened from his position and strode off.

  Omar’s heart sped up, but not from fear. Morgan didn’t strike him as a woman who cried, so for her to do so meant something. Pain ripped through his chest. He wanted to hold her in his arms and kiss away the hurt he had caused. He had to find a way to make things right and would do whatever it took to accomplish the task. Even begging.

  Chapter 19

  Wednesday afternoon, Morgan started to her bedroom with a cup of tea to pick up where she left off in the mystery thriller she was reading. Being off work this week and unplugging from social media had done wonders for her mind. Halfway there the doorbell rang. Her siblings had been taking turns dropping by to check on her, despite her many protests that she was fine. Since it was the middle of the day, she placed her bet on Khalil. Being owner of the fitness center meant no set hours. She changed direction and went to answer the door. Morgan almost dropped her cup when she saw Omar standing there. She stared into the handsome face that wouldn’t leave her memory. He wore a sleeveless tank and shorts, showing off the sculpted muscles of his arms. With his hair flowing loose around his shoulders, the man looked good enough to eat. It took everything within her to stand there and not drag him inside for another round of their special version of “Madden.”

  Omar’s gaze roamed over her from head to toe and back up again. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Finally he said, “Hey.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “May I come in? Please,” he added when she didn’t move.

  She stepped back for him to enter. He moved past her and continued to her living room. Groaning inwardly, she closed the door and followed. She sat as far away from him as she could and didn’t say one word.

  “I brought these back.” He held up an envelope.

  She recognized it as the one she had finally sent. “You could’ve saved yourself some gas and mailed them.”

  “I didn’t sign them.”

  “Why not? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  “I never said I wanted to opt out. You did.”

  Morgan set her cup on the table and massaged her temples. There was no way she could continue to represent him under these circumstances. “Omar, I can’t—”

  “I don’t want to opt out on us, either.”

  Her head snapped up. “What are you talking about?”

  “I love you, Morgan, and I was wrong. I’m sorry I accused you of going to the media behind my back.”

  As much as she wanted to hear those words, it was too late. “How about I accept your apology and we move on.”

  Omar raked a hand down his face. “Move on? I can’t move on, not without you, baby,” he said emotionally.

  Fighting to remain impassive, she stood and walked to the door. “You don’t have a choice.”

  He crossed the room and turned her face toward his. “I can’t give you up, sweetheart. You mean too much to me. I’ll go, but we’re not over...not by a long shot.” He brushed his lips across hers and then left.

  Morgan rested her forehead against the door, still feeling the effects of the soft kiss. She wanted to give
in so bad, to feel his arms around her again. Why did this have to hurt so much?

  She had just gotten settled with her book when the doorbell rang again. Please don’t let it be him. Sliding off the bed, she went out front and, this time, peered through the peephole. Sighing in relief, she opened the door. “Hey, Vonnie.”

  “You look a mess,” Siobhan said, brushing past Morgan. “It’s a good thing I stopped by.” She dropped down on the sofa. “You must have talked to Omar.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Your face says it all. I remember having the same look when things went south with Justin and me. What happened?”

  “He just left a little while ago. He didn’t sign the papers opting out of his contract, and he said he’s not giving up on us.”

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  “I don’t know. One side of me says great. The other side is afraid something like this could happen again.”

  “Does he still think you blabbed to the media?”

  “No, and he apologized.”

  Siobhan patted the space next to her, and Morgan slid onto the sofa. Siobhan grasped her hand. “Well, it sounds like he’s owned up to his mistake. How do you feel about Omar?”

  “I love him.”

  “And how does he feel?”

  “He says he loves me.”

  “Honey, understand that relationships are not always cut-and-dried. And lasting ones will require some sacrifice on both your parts. He’s made his position clear. If you love him, the only thing left for you to decide is whether you’ll be happy without him in your life.”

  Morgan laid her head on her sister’s shoulder. “How did you know that Justin was the right one?”