Twelve
“Sources close to the investigation indicate that more names will be released in connection with the alleged Bountygate masterminded by former Yale and New Jersey Generals coach Paul Zevalos. According to these unnamed sources, while defensive coordinator with the Generals, Zevalos maintained a secret fund to pay his players rewards if they inflicted an injury on an opponent. Twelve players have filed suit against the Generals, the NFL, and Zevalos, alleging they were injured as part of that scheme. A Senate committee has also been convened to look into how the league has handled the investigation and the ensuing lawsuits from the players injured. That’s SportsCenter in a minute. Now, back to Major League Baseball.”
“Jeez, this bounty hunt is getting pretty intense,” Gavin said before taking a swallow of his beer.
He and Will were sitting in Will’s study watching the Atlanta Braves pummel the Mets. Owen was scarfing down another bottle; his son was perpetually hungry.
“It’s nothing.”
“Really?” Gavin asked. “Because it sounds like they’ve got a lot of nothing to warrant an NFL investigation. Not to mention one in the Senate.”
“What a waste of taxpayer dollars.” Will shifted a fussy Owen to his shoulder to try to get him to burp.
“You know Zevalos pretty well, and you were with the Generals for a training camp and preseason. You mean to tell me this is all a bunch of bullshit?”
Owen cried a little harder, refusing the bottle when Will tried to give it to him.
“Come on, Owen, give Daddy a break here.” Will stood and walked around the room, grateful that Owen’s tears provided a quick distraction from the subject. Gavin was perceptive, and Will didn’t want to have this conversation with his best friend right now. “What’s the matter, little man, huh?”
Apparently, Gavin realized Will was done with the subject of his former coach because he let out a resigned sigh. “Maybe you should get Julianne.”
“No, she’s trying to nap. He’s had us both up multiple times these past few nights. She needs a rest.”
“Well, well, not just a doting father, but a doting husband.”
“Shut up, Gavin,” Will said over Owen’s screams. Doting husband was a stretch, but he did have a newfound respect for Julianne. That first night home had been a paradigm shift for both of them. Since then, they’d settled into an easy camaraderie, each of them taking turns caring for Owen. It also helped that he avoided touching her and looking at her for extended periods of time. “You have younger siblings and a niece; what should I do here?”
“I don’t know nothin’ ’bout burping no babies.” Gavin took another swallow of beer.
Will swore at his friend.
“Hey, not in front of the baby.” Gavin laughed.
The door leading into the house from the verandah burst open, and Will expected to see a wild-eyed, frantic Julianne. Instead, Brody Janik stood on the threshold.
“Dude, are you sticking pins in that baby?” Brody shoved his sunglasses onto his head as he waltzed into the room, infuriatingly cool, impeccably dressed, a wrapped gift in his hand.
Will stood with a screaming baby in his own hands, spit-up decorating his Yale T-shirt, and a two-day growth of beard on his face. He was used to Brody’s unexpected appearances, but today his jarring perfection pissed him off. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You’ve been married a week and I haven’t given you a wedding gift,” Brody said as he gingerly tossed the gift onto the sofa. “Apparently, I got here in the nick of time. Let me have that baby.”
Will pulled Owen in closer to his body. It only made the baby scream louder.
Brody held his hands out. “Dude, I can fix this. Trust me.”
The last thing Will wanted was Brody Janik in his house, much less holding his kid.
“Give him the damn baby!” Gavin yelled over Owen’s cries.
Reluctantly, Will handed his son to Brody, who sat down on the sofa and immediately plopped Owen facedown over his knees. He firmly rubbed the baby’s back, then patted, followed by more rubbing. After a few minutes, Owen released a belch that would make a locker room blush, his crying subsiding almost immediately.
“Damn!” Gavin raised his beer in salute. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“Two nephews and a niece.” Brody rolled a delirious Owen up into his arms and gently rocked him. “Hey, little dude. Lucky for you that you don’t have your daddy’s ugly mug.”
Will ran his fingers through his hair, relieved that Owen had calmed down. “Thanks. Now tell me again why you’re here. And skip the crap about a gift because you know it wasn’t that kind of wedding.”
Brody looked shrewdly at Gavin before turning back to gaze at a sleeping Owen. “Your wife. I’m here to see her.”
Something in Will’s gut clenched, but he kept his expression cool. He didn’t like the way Brody looked at Gavin, as if he didn’t want to reveal the real reason for his sudden appearance. “What could you possibly want with my wife?” The words came out in more of a growl than he would have liked. Let Brody think what he wanted.
“I need a wedding gown.”
Gavin chuckled. “You’re a pretty boy, Brody, but I never pictured you in a wedding gown.”
“Funny.” Brody shot a lazy grin at Gavin. “You didn’t tell me your wife was a wedding gown designer to the stars, Will.”
“I don’t recall telling you anything about her at all, Brody.”
“Yeah, well my sister Tricia is getting married and she’s desperate for a gown designed by JV Designs. Tricia’s been calling the London office for several months, but they keep saying the designer is not taking any new commissions. When the story leaked that you two were married, I’ve been bombarded by all the women in my family to ask your wife personally if she’ll do this.”
What a load of crap. Brody never bowed to pressure from his sisters. He generally just made himself scarce, which might explain his appearance in North Carolina, but Will didn’t think so. More likely, there was more chatter in the locker room about Bountygate and Coach Zevalos’s involvement. Media and players were beginning to connect the dots and—if ESPN could be believed—names were being whispered. Brody was a smart kid and could connect the dots faster than most.
The tight end was also under the misguided delusion that he was Will’s self-appointed wingman and could somehow help. But Will kept his own counsel. He didn’t need anybody’s help. Especially not Brody’s. All he wanted was his teammate out of his house before he started prattling to Gavin about the situation. His best friend was already asking too many questions.
“I’ll be sure to ask her.” Will scooped Owen up from Brody’s arms and placed the baby into the portable crib in the corner of the room. “Thanks for the help with the baby. I’ll call you and let you know what Julianne says.”
Brody casually stood. One thing about the kid, he wasn’t slow; he got the hint the first time.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” He strolled toward the door leading out to the verandah. “I’m actually in town for a few days.” He gave Will a pointed look. “Deep-sea fishing and stuff. I’m staying at your mother’s B and B, Gavin. Maybe I’ll see you around there.”
“No doubt,” Gavin said as Brody walked out the door.
Will sat in the chair Brody had just vacated and grabbed his beer, taking a long pull at the bottle. Brody’s gift was still on the seat beside him.
“I forgot all about it being your one-week anniversary. I wonder what the gift for that is?” Gavin mused.
Will said nothing, staring at the television screen as the Braves turned a double play to end the inning.
“You’d probably be off the hook with sex, seeing as most couples would still be on their honeymoon,” Gavin continued. “Too bad you two aren’t having sex. It would really take the pressure off a gift.”
Will tossed a football at his friend’s head. Laughing, Gavin ducked, catching the ball with the ease borne of having been on the receiving end of football passes most of his life. But Will wasn’t laughing. He’d managed to avoid thinking about sex with his wife, who wasn’t really his wife, for the past several days. Now he couldn’t get the thought out of his mind again. Not only that, but he also had to worry about Brody Janik. What was he really doing in town? More importantly, whose side was he on?
• • •
“I’m really not taking on any new clients right now.”
Julianne stared into the annoyingly handsome face of Brody Janik. If Will was a Viking god, this man was all Hollywood glamour boy: sparkling blue eyes, perfect teeth, and a ripped body that he wore with ease. Brody was one of those dangerous men who looked like sin and knew it. What his perfect physique didn’t get him, his charm likely did. Julianne normally loathed men like him, but it was not hard to make an exception for Brody. Something about him was irresistibly likable.
“Did I mention her future husband is a veteran?”
Julianne sighed. He had mentioned that fact, several times. Brody’s sister was marrying a young doctor who’d served as a military reservist on the USS Comfort for eight months. While that didn’t actually qualify as combat duty, he was performing a service for those men and women who had seen combat and paid a price for it. It was a nice emotional touch, and Brody used it to his advantage.
They were sitting in the bright kitchen, Julianne sipping coffee while Brody guzzled a mineral water. He’d arrived at the house twenty minutes after Will had left for his daily workout at the gym in town. Dressed in running shorts, a sweaty Baltimore Orioles T-shirt, and a well-worn baseball cap from a Boston bar, he’d seemed only mildly chagrined at having missed Will. Instead, he made himself at home in the kitchen, insisting that he’d come to see her anyway.
Owen chortled from the other room. He was lying on a quilt on the floor, swatting at a mobile held over his head by a colorful stand that straddled his body. Will was right; their son’s dexterity was awe-inspiring.
Brody pulled his iPhone from his pocket. “Here, let me show you a picture of them. You’ll see that Tricia deserves a special gown.”
She tried to protest, but it was too late. An image of an adoring couple flashed on the screen before she could stop him.
“They make a beautiful couple,” Julianne remarked. “And lucky for your sister, several of my gowns will be affordably mass-produced later this year and she can get one then.”
Information about the sale of JV Designs had not been made public yet, but she needed to shake Brody loose. Aside from the quick image of the christening gown on the plane, she hadn’t had an additional epiphany since. What was once as easy as closing her eyes and seeing a design was now a gift locked away in the far recesses of her brain. She had only three months to unlock her muse and begin making money again.
“She doesn’t want a store-bought gown. She wants an original. And money isn’t the problem. I’m paying.” Brody reached over and grabbed her hand, gently squeezing it. “Whatever it costs. Just please say you’ll do it.”
Julianne wanted to cry. She was touched by the sweet gesture of Brody buying his sister a wedding gown, but she couldn’t design one for him. It was impossible.
“Get your paws off my wife!”
She jumped out of her chair, pulling her hand out of Brody’s as Owen let out a startled shriek. Will stormed into the kitchen, making a beeline for Brody.
“Dude, is that all the time you defensive types spend working out? No wonder we keep getting scored on.” Brody leaned on the back two legs of his chair, clearly unfazed by the menacing wall of muscle descending on him. Of course, she figured he wouldn’t be in the NFL if he couldn’t stare down a linebacker.
“I swear, Janik, I’ve had enough of that pretty mouth of yours,” Will snarled.
“Stop it!” Julianne picked up a crying Owen. “You’re scaring the baby.”
She watched as Will took a moment to physically dial back his temper, but when he finally looked over at Julianne, his face was a grim line. Stuffing a pacifier in the baby’s mouth, she stepped between the two sparring mountains of testosterone. “Brody just wants me to design his sister a gown.”
“I told you I’d talk to her about it, Brody.”
“Obviously you haven’t, because it’s been three days since I mentioned it to you and she didn’t know a thing about it.” Brody’s shine was wearing off; he was starting to annoy Julianne with his taunting of Will.
“It doesn’t matter! I’m not making the gown!” She practically had to shout to get the two men to hear her.
Brody slammed the chair down and stood. “Don’t let him tell you what to do! You can do it if you really want to.”
Will was chest to chest with him in an instant. “Don’t you dare talk to her like that!”
Owen started crying again, the pacifier dropping to the ground.
“No!” Julianne cried. “I can’t! I can’t design gowns anymore!”
She turned on her heel and bolted up the stairs, a screaming Owen on her shoulder.