Was that really only yesterday?
I had flown from New York to Boston late the night before so I could get up early here and go to a meeting, but I couldn’t even remember if I’d slept or not. Did I eat dinner last night? I still couldn’t even remember the last time I had actually hugged my dad.
Okay, that made me tear up a little. I guess I was human after all.
“You’re in shock, honey.” She lowered her voice to a whisper again so her daughter couldn’t hear. “When Baxter died, I couldn’t cry for a week, until we got his ashes back. That dog was my best friend—after you, of course. But you were estranged from your dad. It’s not weird that you don’t know how to respond. I mean, you’re weird and annoying because you haven’t slept and you still look gorgeous, but I only hate you a little for that.”
I made a weird and annoying face at the iPad that was propped up on the dresser in front of me. I had no idea how I was supposed to respond to this situation. I’d never thought about what it would be like when my father died, and it definitely never occurred to me that he would leave me his beloved football team—even after I got my MBA and became a wealth-management consultant. Despite all of his ex-wives, I was his only offspring. But the Boston Tomcats franchise was his only baby as far as I was concerned.
Wait. Do I own my father’s baby now?
“I just need to look at the numbers and talk to some spreadsheets and graphs and food and about three glasses of wine about this. Then I’ll be able to understand things. Then I’ll be able to make some decisions… And then I’ll be able to process my feelings. Things always happen in that order. But I’ll need the wine first, in this case. And during. And afterward.”
“Atta girl.”
“Okay, I have to figure out what to wear to this meeting and learn everything there is to know about football in the next half an hour, so talk to me.”
Jen’s seven-year-old daughter, Ella, suddenly popped up in the FaceTime window. “Ooooh! Can I help dress you?!”
“Yes, but I have very limited options with me here.” Still wearing only a bra and panties, I reached for a blouse to show them.
“Wow, your boobies are so big!”
“I know, right?”
“How do you not know anything about football if your dad owned an NFL team your entire life?” Jen shook her head.
I shrugged. “Sibling rivalry with a bunch of players I’ve never met, stubborn determination, and an appalling lack of foresight. My parents divorced when I was six, and my mom and I moved to New York right after that. It’s not like I was around it much.” I had to take in a shaky breath before continuing. I had avoided Boston and football as much as possible for twenty-three years, so facing both of them at the same time, without my father, made me more than a little nervous. And I did not like being nervous. “Okay… Buttoned-up blouse with dress pants that says Hi, I’m the new owner and I wear the pants in this relationship? Or an understated wrap dress that says Hi, I’m the new owner—I have boobs and a vagina—deal with it?”
“Boobs and vagina!” Ella giggled, jumping up and down.
“You’re going to the stadium, right?”
“Yeah, I’m meeting with the general manager, but a guy named Jonathan is supposed to give me a tour of the place first. The equipment manager, I think he said? I guess because he’ll be there early.”
“Please tell me you packed a tight skirt.”
“I packed five of them.”
“So you’ll wear a partially unbuttoned blouse, tight skirt, and heels that say, Hi, I’m your new owner and you can kiss my sweet, beautiful ass. Done. Go brush your teeth, Ella. I have to educate your aunt Hannah about football pants now.”
Ella rolled her eyes. “I think she should wear a pretty dress, but whatever. Bye, Hannah!”
“Bye, cutie.” I chose a black pencil skirt and started putting myself together.
“Should you wear a cardigan or something?”
“Nah. I mean, it was a little chilly when I got here last night, but I’m sure it’ll be warm and humid like in New York.” I had no idea if that was true or not, but it felt good to be able to say something with confidence this morning.
Jen tapped something into her phone and then held the phone screen up to her laptop camera. “You own almost sixty of these men now. Please tell me you’re a little bit excited.”
I squinted at my iPad screen, at the image of a man in football pants. “I mean, that’s mostly jockstrap padding though, right?”
She flipped her phone back around, tapped at the screen again, swiped at it a few times, and then showed me an image of the backside of a man in football pants.
That man had a tight, tight butt in some tight, tight pants.
I blinked and shook my head. I couldn’t think about butts and bulges in football pants my first day on the job. Or ever, for that matter. “Just tell me about the player positions and the rules and the point system.”
“Ohhhh-kayyyy…” She scratched her chin. “So, the quarterback is the star of the team.”
“Well, even I know that.”
“Quarterbacks usually have a leaner body type than most of the other players. Like, really cute tight butts, you know? They have to run and throw, and they lead the team in the huddle. And um…there’s the offense and the defense, but I always get confused about that.”
“Uh-huh…”
“The ones who have to guard and tackle are big. Huge truck-like guys. The ones for the Rebels are tanks and—oh, they creamed the QB for the Schmomschmats this weekend.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Oh, but lemme show you a pic of the QB because he is fine. Don’t tell Justin I said that.” Her tongue was sticking out and her eyes were suddenly wide, glowing and manic as she typed.
“Okay, why don’t you tell me about the point of the game. Like, how do they score?”
“Ohhh, I’m pretty sure this guy scores often and long and hard.”
“Jen.”
“Yeah, I have no idea how football scoring works. I honestly don’t believe anyone does.”
“Well, that’s comforting.” I checked my phone and opened up the email attachment she’d just sent me. “Jennifer—this is a picture of someone from the waist down.”
“I know. That’s your quarterback. You own that.”
My mouth was watering, so I had to swallow hard and clear my throat before saying, “I don’t even know what to do with that.”
“That’s because you only date money nerds.”
“I mean I don’t know what to do with that information. What’s this guy’s job? What’s his salary? Is he worth it? Is this team even good? Are they doing well right now? Should I wear my hair up or down?”
“Oh, up. Definitely do the sexy secretary thing. The regular season just started, and they actually beat the Rebels the other day, so I guess they’re doing well. I can Google it.”
“Thank you.” I carried my iPad with me to the bathroom so I could do my hair and makeup. I was ninety-five percent sure I was the only franchise owner who was putting this much effort into hair and makeup for a meeting with the GM. “I did start to research this stuff yesterday, but I had to take care of some things for clients before I left.”