Kayla and Jack clapped and pointed at the screen laughing.

  I sat and watched. I didn’t want to miss a thing.

  He hugged everyone around the table and headed to the stage. The grin on his face made me smile. He hugged the commissioner and held up his new jersey for photos.

  I grabbed my phone and sent him a text.

  Carrington: I’m so proud of you for making your dreams come true. Congratulations NFL Football Player!!! Enjoy it! You deserve it.

  As he walked off the stage, he fished his phone out of his coat pocket. It must have been going crazy, but I noticed a slight shift in his emotions, undetectable by anyone else. He grabbed his tie and adjusted it. He typed into his phone and put it back in his pocket as his agent whisked him off to his new life.

  The End

  Hope for Us

  Prologue

  Carrington Olivia Butler

  A bead of sweat made it’s way down my butt crack as I wrapped my hand around my seven year old’s spare inhaler. I didn’t have asthma, but it would work, if my throat closed up, right? Holding the metal and plastic contraption offered some comfort as sat in my boss’s office waiting for him to fire me.

  I stared at the portrait on the wall. My boss, Adam Coulon, sat stiffed back and uncomfortable with his mousy wife and two ordinary looking children completing the perfect family portrait. I eyed the divorce papers sitting in the middle of his desk. I knew they were there because I drafted them. He didn’t fit in the picture. With his wavy brown hair, tanned skin, athletic build, I pictured him with a model type, someone tall and thin, but with curves. He looked like a guy who appreciated a woman’s curves. I caught staring at mine a couple of times, but other than a lingering look, he treated me with respect. More than I can say about other men in my life. No, Adam behaved like a perfect gentleman around me and I appreciated that about him, but I would considered giving him a little something, if he didn’t fire me.

  I did not mean that.

  My eyes focused on the sadness in his wife’s eyes. They met in elementary school. I wondered if he knew in the second grade she would turn into the woman in the photo.

  “Hey Carrington, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” Adam shuffled in wearing baggy jeans, tennis shoes and a golf shirt, untucked. The baseball hat completed his causal look. He dropped a few boxes behind the desk and fell into his chair.

  At least he could have dressed up to send me packing.

  Adam started his own law firm after he graduated from law school. He grew up in Tallahassee, worked his way through school and built his career around sports and southern charm. He would say the key to being a good lawyer, be in the right place at the right time and be noticed by the right people.

  He brokered the merge of several Big East teams into the Atlantic Coast Conference including Norte Dame and he negotiated the latest television rights for the division.

  The later, the catalyst for my impending unemployment.

  Mr. Griffin, my son’s grandfather, respected the hell out of him because he graduated from FSU. I liked him because despite several attempts, Mr. Griffin couldn’t hire him. He built his business from the ground up and ten years later, he had law firms fighting over him.

  “So, have you been to Arizona, what do you think of the place?” he asked.

  “No. I’ve never been. I heard it’s hot in the summer.” I bit my tongue to stop myself from continuing.

  Is he really asking me for my opinion of his new home town? Unbelievable.

  “Yeah, but it’s a dry heat.” He chuckled to emphasize the absurd cliché line about Arizona heat.

  “Yeah, no humidity, but no beach, either.” Maybe I could convince him Phoenix sucked. Not that he spent much time at the beach. Neither did I.

  “True, but the firm is great. Have the right areas of practice to get involved in some interesting stuff.”

  “Great.” My hands tensed, but I removed them from around the inhaler. No need to humiliate myself by sucking on my son’s medicine. Perhaps, if I passed out, he would take pity on me and not fire me.

  It seemed every time I got my life back on track, something out of my control threw it off its axis. I headed off to FSU seven years ago ready to start my adult life and within a year, I got pregnant, and my boyfriend killed himself.

  A year later, with optimism and a new found ambition, I headed back to FSU ready to claim the man I should have been with only to find out he had a girlfriend. He dumped his girlfriends, started dating me and then I found out he slept with both of us …on the same day. So I dumped him.

  At least that the story I am going with.

  I got through all of that, graduated from undergrad and law school, and found a great job. I took care of my son without relying on anyone’s assistance, and now I had to start all over again.

  “On my last trip, I thought I would find a place in the city, but then fell in love with Paradise Valley. It’s only a twenty minute drive to the office and the golf out there is beautiful. You play golf, Carrington?”

  “No sir, I never had time to learn with a five year old running around. Jack’s been with his grandfather, though.” Oh no, why did I mention Mr. Griffin. If I wanted to emphasize how losing my job would be a hardship on myself and my child, that I raised … on my own, mentioning his uber rich grandfather, not the right approach. “But, you can’t beat Florida for the variety of golf courses.”

  “Yeah, but Phoenix is beautiful and so close to some of the most amazing sites in this country. I’m looking forward to doing some hiking. Besides, working with the Cardinals, you know what that means?”

  “No, what?”

  “NFL season tickets. Plus, the Super Bowl is going to be out their in two years. Perfect timing.”

  “Yeah, perfect timing.” I attempted a grin, while suppressing the urge to throw up. For him, perfect timing, but for me, the timing couldn’t be worse.

  “I’ll be working closely with the Cardinals. The firm has worked with the owner’s family for over forty years.”

  My heart rate sped up as the conversation turned towards NFL talk. Anything football related soured my mood. I hated that ‘Are you ready for some football?’ song. I used to love football. I didn’t understand it all the time, but loved watching it. Now, it gave me a headache which wouldn’t be so bad if my son wasn’t a football fanatic.

  Four years later, my heart ached with the mention of anything that reminded me of Jackson Mitchell. He was the one that got away or the one I pushed away, depending on who you asked.

  Since the reunion experiment that blew up in my face, we spoke maybe six times … in seven years. He called Jack on his birthday every year. When I answered the phone, our conversation consisted of two, maybe three sentences. I got a text when I graduated from law school as neutral and non-emotional as the one I left him when he got drafted. I answered his text the same way he answered mine.

  Carrington: We both desire to be happy!

  I assumed he knew about my life, but he stayed away. Mr. Hot Shot NFL Quarterback had no time for his mentally unstable, friend, enemy, …I had no clue what Jackson and I were to each other.

  He maintained his good godfather status by spending time with Jack every chance he got. I did my part. Jack insisted on watching every game. Jackson was his godfather and explaining to my son the complicated relationship dynamic between Jackson and I, TMI for a child.

  I pushed my feelings aside and did the right thing. I never denied him a chance to see Jack. I went as far as to allow Mr. Griffin to take Jack to a few games.

  Jackson lived his dream.

  I shook my head.

  “Carrington!”

  “What?”

  “What’s wrong?” Adam asked.

  “Oh, nothing, what were you saying.”

  Come on Carrington, the least you could do is listen while your boss is firing you.

  “Well, like I said, the firm has offices in over ten cities and they want to pursue business of some other franchises, as well. Not just in football. Anyway, I’ll be doing a lot of traveling and visiting the kids in Tampa once a month, so I’ll rely on you. Your my eyes and ears when I’m out of the office. It will give you a lot of access, but the pace is similar to here, so you will have plenty of time with Jack.”

  I nodded.

  “Are you listening to me at all?” Adam asked.

  “Yes, travel a lot, eyes and ears, yeah, I got it.” I blinked and sat up. “Wait, what?”

  “I’m offering you a position at the firm in Phoenix.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” I tilted my head and leaned in closer, gripping the arms of the chair. It wasn’t sinking in. I had my brain all set to hear bad news.

  “Really.”

  “Yeah,” his eyes narrows, “but I’m starting to forget why?”

  A smile creeped up at the corner of my mouth, I cleared my throat and breathed a little easier.

  “Because I am a great lawyer and because you can’t get along without me.”

  “Something like that.” He laughed and stood up from his desk with an envelope in his hand. He came around to sit in the warn out brown leather chair. “Carrington, you are a damn good lawyer and you like to do all the stuff I hate to do, like read. I think you would do great in Phoenix. We could both use a change of scenery.”

  He blinked away the pain in his eyes as his eyes peaked at the portrait of his family.

  “You don’t have to answer me right away. Read over the offer letter and let me know if you have any questions. I need an answer in one hour.” He handed over the envelope and returned to his side of the desk.

  “I thought you were firing me.”

  “Technically, I am. Coulon and Associates no longer exists.” He gripped his desk and nodded.

  He was moving on to bigger and better things, but change, whether you want it or not, was never easy.

  Chapter One

  One Year Later

  Carrington Olivia Butler

  Answer, suits and high heel shoes, question, what’ the biggest different between practicing law in Tallahassee and practicing law in Phoenix, Arizona. The diverse work environment employed a few other African American, but I was the only African American woman. Besides those two factors, everything pretty much the same; I had no life. I worked, made sure Jack had an attentive mother while in his presence and tried hard not to screw up.

  Adam traveled three out of five days and enjoyed the benefits of being a partner while in town. Perks included six hour golf lunches while a team of four associates including me, did all the work. As the senior associate in our practice area, by a year, I had seniority. At this time, I wondered where the rest of the group went as I sat in a conference room off the main lobby well past six o’clock waiting for him.

  Sorry, for the vague pronoun, I am not ready to say his name.

  Two hours ago, I received a frantic phone call made so by the heavy breeze in the background. Adam, out of breath, screamed into the phone.

  “He should arrive around six, you can stay right?” Adam’s way of telling me, yes I could stay. “He needs to sign the contract before reporting to training camp tomorrow morning?”

  “If he just needs to sign it, a paralegal could handle that. Hell, Maria could handle it.

  “Who’s Maria?”

  “The assistant you told me to hire last week. Although, she thinks she doesn’t have a boss considering you haven’t been in the office for more then two hours a day since.”

  “Are you keeping her busy?”

  “Of course, which is why I don’t understand why I have to wait for some over paid athlete’s autograph.”

  “Come on Carrrrrrr.” When he drew out the r’s in my name, he major begging muscles emerged and I knew I would say yes anyway.

  “Ok. I’ll stay.”

  “Great. I sent you the contract. Review it with him and if he has any questions, you can handled it. Pretty standard. Hey, you might know the guy. He went to Florida State, a few years ahead of you.”

  My computer beeped with the incoming email and I clicked on the attachment. I read the name at the top of the contract and blinked. I closed the computer, hung up on Adam and sat with my hands in my laps. Goose bumps popped up on my arms. I rubbed them and reached out to open the computer, but my fingers went numb and I placed my hands back on my lap.

  I must have had him on my mind. I had been finalized players contracts all week with the start of training camp. I had football on the brain. My mind drifted to the football player I was once in love with.

  Perfectly normal, right?

  I lifted the top of the computer and the locked screen illuminated. I typed in my password and my eyes fixated on the name at the top of the document.

  Jackson Latre Mitchell

  His full name always made me smile. His mother, a southern bell from Louisiana, named him after a character on Steel Magnolias. I hadn’t seen him in person in over four years. When I thought of him, the image of the first time we meet always popped in my head. His muscles stretched his FSU t-shirt and his baggy shorts swayed. Those forearms made me lick my lips and the goofy grin that crept up at the corners until he couldn’t hold it back and turned into a full on smile I felt in my toes. That was my favorite version of Jackson. A hell of a lot better than watching the darkness over take his bright green eyes when he gave up on us and the imagine of his back side as he walked out of my life forever. Again, my interpretation of our last time together. I didn’t even know what the true story was anymore.

  I skimmed the contract.

  The one year contract, had an option for a second year, a little under three million dollars. After begin hurt last year, Jackson’s had to prove himself all over again. Hence the shitty second contract for a one time top ten draft pick.

  I read the rest. I avoided the urge to delete a few zero’s from his salary or maybe add a clause that stated he wasn’t allowed to speak to another female during the season, including me.

  My last conversation with Jackson happened about three months ago when he called Jack on his seventh birthday.

  “Hi Carrington.” Long pause.

  “Hi Jackson.” Longer pause.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “Fine.” I said, pulled the phone from my ear, “Jack, Jackson’s on the phone.”

  That was it. That from my soul mate, the love of my life, my everything.

  At some point, I figured Jackson and I would form a friendship, but it never happened.

  I held out hope we would be those kind of parents who created a civil relationship for the sake of the kid. The problem with the theory, Jackson wasn’t Jack’s parent and we were never married. He maintained his distance.

  Maybe it hurt him too much.

  “You need anything else before I go?” Carrie, my assistant, asked as she poked her head into the conference room.

  “It’s already six thirty.” I checked my phone.

  “His flight landed about thirty minutes ago.”

  “Ok, no I’m fine. Go ahead.”

  “If I didn’t need to pick Britney up from her father’s, I would love to stay. Jackson Mitchell is so hot.”

  I smiled and stared down at my phone hoping she would get the hint and stop asking questions.

  No such luck.

  She dropped her bag by the door and walked further into the conference room. She collapsed into one of the twelve leather swivel chairs around the long black table and placed her elbows on the table and waited.

  “What?”

  “What’s he like?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know him, right? I mean, Jack mentioned it.”

  “When did you talk to Jack about Jackson?”

  “It was last year, when we went to the game and he said his god father played in the NFL.” She rotated the chair back and forth. I wanted to stop her and push the chair right out the door with her in it. “I figured you two were pretty good friends if he’s Jack’s god father.”

  “We were friends, back when Jack was born, but we haven’t seen each other in years.”

  “So.”

  “So, what?”

  “What’s he like. He seems like such a great guy. In interviews he always comes off as genuine. Kind of sweet and humble, but with a sexy confidence.”

  “He is or he was.” I tapped my fingers on the table, “Really, I haven’t spoke two sentenced to him in like five years.”

  “Well, now you have a chance to reconnect.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why? He’s so cute and from the way Jack talked about him, he adores him.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Why? What happened?” Carrie asked.

  Such a loaded questions. It would take a week and a day to go over what happened between Jackson and I. I didn’t want to get into it.

  Kayla, best friend, knew the whole truth, no one else. She lived through it with me for the most part and while she supported me, even she didn’t understand why Jackson and I weren’t together.

  I missed Kayla.

  Our senior year, she went to New York for spring break and ran into her ex-boyfriend in a coffee shop in Soho. The next weekend he came down to Tallahassee for a long weekend, by Monday, they were back together. Now they’ve been married for two years. We talked daily and at least once a month she would tell me some fact about Jackson Mitchell. Not that I every asked. It never stop her from sharing, but if I confessed how much it hurt to hear about him, it would prove her point. I still loved Jackson.

  Kayla moved back to New York after graduation.

  “He graduated a year and a half before me. Since he graduated he’s been busy. I’ve been busy.”

  “And now look, you’re both in the same city at the same time.”

  I stared at her, daring her to say what I’ve tried to not think about for the last two hours.

  “You and Jackson, back together again.”

  I jumped when my phone rang. I looked down and smiled.

  “Is it him?” Carrie stood up.