“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
She glanced up to see Valencia still frowning. “I do. I’m taking advantage of an opportunity of a lifetime, and I’ll be near my family. It’s a win-win situation for me. How can that be a bad thing?” She had found a condo in Carson, a twenty-minute drive from her parents’ house, which was far enough to maintain her privacy. The modern two-bedroom end unit had an open floor plan, granite countertops in the kitchen, hardwood flooring, a separate dining room, a two-car garage with direct access to the home, a balcony and a spacious master bedroom. And although it wasn’t gated, there was twenty-four-hour security. A bonus was that the Cobras’ practice facility was only about thirty minutes away.
Valencia viewed Lauren skeptically. “Okay, if you say so. Since you follow football, do you know if Malcolm is married or dating someone?”
Lauren walked over to her dresser, opened a drawer and grabbed another armful of clothing. “I follow football, not his personal life, so I have no idea.” Malcolm had always been a private person when it came to his relationships, even when they dated. As a popular athlete at UCLA, he had been interviewed on a number of occasions. Whenever questions came up about his relationship with Lauren, Malcolm would give the standard “no comment” and shift the conversation back to football. Lauren did remember seeing a picture of him with a beautiful actress floating around on social media a year or two ago, with speculation about whether the two were headed to the altar. However, she never heard anything more, so she assumed it hadn’t happened. She’d seen notices of his siblings’ weddings, including that of his twin sister, Morgan. Lauren hadn’t been the least bit surprised that Morgan had married a football star and had a successful career as a sports agent. The woman was a bigger fan of the game than Lauren. “So, you are coming to visit me soon, right?”
“Heck, yeah. I’ve only been to LA twice, so get ready to party.” Valencia snapped her fingers and did a little dance step. “I’m going to be putting in for some time off as soon as I get in to work on Monday. Do you think the team needs another nutritionist? I mean...there’s, like, how many on the team?”
“Usually about fifty-three.”
“See, that’s plenty for two people.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “With all those fine muscular men in one place, I might learn to like football a little more.”
Lauren laughed. “You’re a hot mess.” But her friend was right. The LA Cobras were an impressive team. In more ways than one. She zipped the full suitcase and dragged it off the bed until it stood upright on its wheels. She set it next to the other two and glanced around the room at all the luggage and boxes stacked against the walls. It was a good thing she had ended her job two days ago. No way she would have finished packing everything otherwise. She hated moving. Somehow she had accumulated enough stuff over the past eight years to open her own variety shop. Clearly, she would have to go through her things after getting settled in her new place. “I really appreciate you taking today off to help me.”
“You know I couldn’t let you do all this alone. Besides, I haven’t taken off one day this year, and we’re already at the halfway mark.” Valencia taped a box closed. “What time is the moving truck coming tomorrow?”
“Five in the morning,” she answered with a groan. “The drive is supposed to be close to six hours, but with traffic, who knows?”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive with you? I could stay overnight and hop a flight back on Sunday.”
She stared at her best friend and seriously considered her offer. Lauren hated driving, and having someone with her would make the time go by faster. “Truthfully, I’d rather not drive by myself. You sure you wouldn’t mind?”
Valencia rolled her eyes. “Of course I wouldn’t mind. That’s why I offered two weeks ago when you first told me.”
Lauren chuckled. “I appreciate you, girl. It’ll be easier if you just stay here tonight.”
“I agree.” Valencia finished taping another box. “Let me tape up these last two boxes and I’ll run home, pack a bag and be back. Do you want me to stop and pick up something for dinner?”
“Seeing as how I’ve packed up all the dishes and cleaned out the refrigerator, that might be a good idea. Maybe pizza? That’s quick and doesn’t require utensils.”
“That works.” The other woman picked up her purse and dug her keys out of her pocket. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Lauren?”
Lauren knew Valencia wasn’t asking about the job. “Yes.” At best, she and Malcolm could come to some sort of truce—she’d do her job and he’d do his. At worst, he could still hate her guts and make her dream job a living nightmare.
* * *
Malcolm Gray finished his last set on the bench press, then moved so his brother-in-law Omar Drummond and another teammate, Marcus Dupree, could take their turns. All three men played for the LA Cobras, and although training camp didn’t start until next month, everyone had been summoned for a Monday morning meeting. They decided to make good use of the time by arriving early and getting in a workout.
“I think I might be done when my contract is up,” Marcus said, lying on the bench and starting his repetitions. “This body is getting too old for all those hits.”
Omar nodded his head in agreement. “No lie.”
Malcolm chuckled. “I hear you. Sometimes I feel like I’m going on sixty instead of thirty.” While both Marcus and Omar started at the wide receiver position, Malcolm was the team’s running back, and the punishment his body took week after week could be grueling. “My contract is up at the end of the season, and my agent is trying to get me to go for four more. I’m drawing the line at two, if that.”
Marcus pushed the bar up and grunted. “You’ll be what? Thirty?”
“Thirty-two by then.” When he retired, he planned to join his brother Khalil’s business. Maximum Burn Fitness Center had two locations that were currently doing well. They had discussed opening a third one within the next two years if the centers continued to run successfully. Though Malcolm had never imagined doing anything other than football, he was realistic enough to know he wouldn’t be able to play forever. His family owned a home-safety company that manufactured everything from bath rails and specialized mattresses to in-home alert systems that let a person know if a door had been left open or a stove left on and detected human movement and sent the information to a smartphone. But the idea of wearing a suit and sitting behind a desk for the rest of his life like his brother Brandon and sister Siobhan held no appeal. Instead, he’d followed in Khalil’s footsteps and earned a degree in kinesiology, which would give him options other than a desk.
Omar did a final set and moved to another machine. “You know I’m done when my contract is up. School is kicking my butt.” He was halfway through his doctoral study program in clinical psychology and planned to join the staff of the veterans’ mental health center he had cofounded. “What about you, Dupree? What are your plans?”
“Most likely physical therapy, since that’s what my degree is in. I haven’t decided whether I want to jump into academia or work in the field.” He had completed his clinical doctorate in physical therapy two years ago.
They moved from machine to machine, perfectly executing the movements while continuing the conversation about their postfootball plans.
As they finished, another player approached. “Hey, you guys might want to hurry up and get to the auditorium. I heard the new nutritionist is a woman and she’s fine! I’ll be sitting front and center. Gotta get my eating program together.” He hurried off.
Malcolm, Omar and Marcus shook their heads. The previous nutritionist had been fired at the end of last season when management got wind of him fudging the numbers on players who were in danger of losing their