Amie pulled open the door to the office. “Let me know how it goes.”
He gave her a wave. The crew had cleaned up the field from morning drills, but they’d left out a blocking sled and a couple stepover dummies. He snagged a flag off the grass and tossed it toward the shed. He’d have to talk to the guys about that.
The kids learned more than football here. They learned respect and independence. His coaches needed to model the right behavior.
As he crossed the grass, he breathed in the clean mountain air, took in the snow-crested peaks of the Teton Mountain Range. Damn, he loved it here. Even as a fourteen-year-old kid from New Jersey, he’d been in awe of this Wild West town surrounded by intimidating mountains and the bison that wandered onto the road, not giving a single fuck about travelers.
When he’d bought this property, he hadn’t thought about teaching kids how to play football. He just knew he needed a place where he could be anonymous. A place where he could relax.
A place that had Gigi Cavanaugh.
He’d purchased the land with an LLC, so his name wasn’t associated with it. So far, his privacy hadn’t been violated. Calamity had a permanent population of about ten thousand, though it swelled to over a million during the ski and hiking seasons. A good number of residents were successful entrepreneurs and celebrities who appreciated the healthy outdoor lifestyle and wanted to get away from it all in a magnificent setting. People left them alone.
He could get a coffee here, and no one asked for his autograph.
The idea for the camp came a few years later. He’d invited his offensive line out for a preseason retreat so they could bond and get in some specialized drills. The Bowie brothers, four local extreme athletes, ran a training facility just down the road, and it had everything an athlete could ever need to get in top shape.
He’d bought his teammates mountain bikes, and they did long distance swimming in the lake, but given that they played football, he’d made some accommodations on his land. They couldn’t run plays in a sage-filled meadow.
He and Dean had been sitting on his deck one night, drinking beers and gazing up at the stars, when the vision came to him. Together, they’d brainstormed their dream training facility. Not just for their teammates, but for kids. Specifically, kids who had the talent and drive but not the access.
The next day he’d contacted a landscaper about designing a football field and a contractor about building a facility where he could house and feed young athletes. He’d only been hosting the camp for three years, but he didn’t think there was anything better he could do with his time in the off-season.
The kids had four hours of training each morning and an hour of rest after lunch. In the afternoons, they hit the gym to focus on exercises for explosiveness and athleticism. And then, from three to five, they attended a mandatory life skills class. Cassian didn’t call it “life skills,” of course, because he knew how that would go over, but he knew the kinds of homes these kids came from. He told them the classes had to do with being a better ball player. And it was true.
But it was so much more.
The cooking class didn’t just teach how to cook—it taught nutrition. The art classes connected them to the greater world outside their small communities, opened their eyes and hearts, and fostered cognitive development.
Today, the kids were in yoga. They thought it was just another way to make their bodies more agile for football, to avoid injury, but for Cassian, it was a way for them to learn self-care, to meditate, to find peace in the chaos of their lives.
This afternoon it was held in a shady portion of the yard behind the rec center.
As he came around the building, he heard the quiet, calming voice of the yoga instructor.
He also heard snickering. Quietly, he peered around the wall to find a group of boys at the back.
The instructor was doing dolphin pose, and one of the kids, said, “I’d tap that ass.”
Walker Lovett. He was sure of it. Cassian strode out there and said, “Come with me.”
The boy’s eyes went wide when he saw who it was. Immediately, though, his features settled into a smirk. “Can’t. I’m doing yoga.”
This time his friends didn’t laugh. Probably because Cassian looked like he was two seconds away from losing it. “Now.”
The kid laughed. “Fine. I hate this pussy shit anyhow.”
Cassian couldn’t speak yet. He’d been a difficult kid, so he understood about acting out. But he didn’t—wouldn’t—tolerate sexual harassment.
He led the kid across the field. Anger made him feel dangerous.
Breathe. To be effective, he needed to calm down.
“Nice of you to show up.” Walker’s voice broke the silence. “Isn’t this your camp? Aren’t you the reason we come here?”
“I hope you came here to take advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to learn everything you can from pro football players.” Keep it together. “Not many kids get the chance to work with Andre Jordan, the fourth overall pick in the draft and the league’s leading rusher last season.”
“Yeah, but I want to be a quarterback. I want to live in a mansion and drive sick cars and bang hot chicks.”
That was it. Cassian stopped in the middle of the field, the afternoon sun forcing him to shield his eyes with a hand. “There’s one week left of camp. Do you want to stay here?”
“Hell, yeah. I saw your sweet ride. The lady with the big tits was in it, and I—”
“Stop. Shut your mouth right now.” He marshaled every ounce of self-discipline he possessed to keep from flying off the handle. “If you want to stay here, then you’re going to have to abide by the rules. The first rule listed in the contract you signed was to treat everyone with respect.”
“Whatever.”
“Oh, it’s definitely not ‘whatever.’ Disrespecting anyone here is a deal-breaker.” His dead-serious tone made the kid’s eyes go wide. “Ms. Meghan runs a yoga studio in town. She volunteers her time here because she cares. It means something to her to teach you guys how to keep your bodies flexible—not just to give you a better chance of making your school’s team, but so you can make it in the brutal world of football. So, for you to disrespect her?” He shook his head, drawing in a tight breath.
“She couldn’t even hear me.”
Cassian gave him a look that said, So? “First, it’s unacceptable. But secondly? Man to man? I can’t even wrap my head around why you’d talk about a woman like that. She’s not an object. She’s not put on this earth to be your plaything. She’s a human being with a heart and a soul, and for you to degrade her reflects badly on you—not her.”
“She’s got a hot body. Nothing wrong with pointing it out.”
“I know you think you’re a real badass to the other guys, but you’re wrong. Those boys who sneak out with you? Laugh when you degrade the director of this camp who was bringing a pitcher of water to your table? They’re laughing because you make them uncomfortable. They join your little escapades because they don’t want to be the object of your ridicule. They don’t respect you, they don’t want to be you, and the minute camp ends, they’re going to be relieved not to be around someone as destructive as you. Do you know why?”