“With the adjustments to your portfolio, your investments should increase …”

Teo checked the time. Elijah had taken full advantage of Teo’s undivided attention, scheduling conference calls and impromptu interviews with radio, television, and internet sportscasts. The interviewers all asked variations of the same three questions:

1. How are you holding up after your wife’s passing?

It’s been a hard adjustment, but I’m taking it one day at a time.

1. Are you ready to come back?

I’m always ready to be on the field. It’s my home.

1. What do you think about Anthony Kincaid coming on after his neck injury?

He’s good. He has a ways to go before he’s at the same level he was when he was the first string quarterback for the Sentinels before his injury; but, from what I’ve seen, he’s got some skills.

The last interview had gone particularly well. The interviewer, Brooke Dasani, asked specific questions about his off-season schedule. He admitted that as a single dad, his time to work out was limited, but he’d hit every mandatory practice.

“So do you think you’ll be in shape by the time the season starts?” She batted her caterpillar-thick eyelashes.

He chuckled at that one, teasing the interviewer over video chat by pretending to panic. “Do I look out of shape?”

She trilled a laugh. “Not to me. I’m sure my viewers would agree that you’re looking nicely in shape.” And the comments came rolling in, making the interviewer and Teo’s agent happy.

Teo was pleased that he’d been able to pull off the lighthearted response. He had refused interviews for months because he was lost in a world of guilt and regret. He didn’t blame himself for Amy’s death. The doctors had explained, in detail, how she died and that there was nothing he could have done to prevent her passing.

No, his guilt was because as he walked behind her casket, he had as much grief for his wife as he would have if the woman inside were a stranger. He should have felt more, if for no other reason than the fact that she was the mother of his child. But he didn’t, and that weighed on him to this day.

“Let’s talk contracts.” Elijah pulled his jacket off and draped it over the overstuffed chair. Elijah was a man who liked comfort. The office was full of soft surfaces. His desk was over a hundred years old with chinks and scratches and polished to a shine. Every chair had added padding, and there were throw pillows on the couch in the waiting room. The walls were navy blue or covered in dark paneling. There was a large globe in the middle of the room, the kind you would find in the Vatican, not an elementary school library. Teo had never dared touch it. Autographed posters of Elijah’s clients hung on the walls. The only indication that Elijah had a sense of humor was the collection of bobble-head dolls on the well-kept book shelves. The smell of pine cleaner lingered.

Teo rubbed his eyes. “I’m locked in with the Titans for another two years. I promise you that I will get my butt in your office before then, and we can talk all the contracts you want. Let’s call it a day.”

Elijah leaned back in his plush leather chair. He didn’t have any hair on his head but grew a thick beard that he kept closely trimmed. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Teo felt like a linebacker had been lifted off his body. “Okay.” He gathered his feet underneath him to stand up, itching to text Cedar. She’d sent him one picture an hour of Akoni. The latest picture showed Akoni clutching a box of animal crackers to his chest; his hands were crossed in front of the box and his face was so pleased it tugged at Teo’s heartstrings.

By the looks of things, the two of them were busy—and happy. Akoni had smiled a lot today. Too bad he couldn’t hire Cedar as a nanny. She’d already proven herself more than capable of handling Akoni, not only handling him, but nurturing and loving and caring for him. That was exactly the kind of person he wanted to find.

Teo said a quick goodbye and put the address for the coffee shop, where Cedar said she and Akoni waited, into his phone as he climbed into his SUV. He couldn’t wait to get there, though his anticipation wasn’t entirely about collecting his son. He wanted to see Cedar, make sure she was doing all right. She’d been down that morning, beaten by life, and he hoped she was walking tall once again.

The closer he got to the coffee shop, the more he doubted his intentions. He didn’t just want to make sure Cedar felt good; he wanted to be the one to cheer her up. Being around her was … different in all the best ways. She was trustworthy—her stream of texts and pictures throughout the day had gone a long way to bringing about that feeling of confidence. As had her determination last Saturday. Beyond that, there was this… other level of communication going on between them. Like he could see parts of her soul and they were good, bright. He got that with people sometimes—a sense of them and their motivation. It didn’t happen often but when it did, he paid attention.

Trust was hard to come by. Before he’d been drafted, he had a good group of friends, people he believed he could count on. After he’d signed with his first team, many of them came to him with open palms, expecting a handout for their loyalty. His nature was to help people and in his first year, he’d almost gone bankrupt. Elijah noticed what was happening and stepped in to remove the moochers from his life.

While Teo was glad he wasn’t being conned out of his money, he had few true-blue friends. The guys on the team were great, and this upcoming season he planned to reopen communication with the men he had gotten along with before. It wasn’t that his teammates had dropped him; he’d requested to be left alone after Amy died. And being a single father put him in a different place in life than many of his unmarried teammates. He didn’t hit the clubs or bars or bask in the attention of groupies. There were some great, stable guys on his team. Zeus was one of them. Teo respected their quarterback—enough to put all he had into every block to protect the guy.

The interviews today were a good reminder that, outside the walls of his home, Teo was a marketing tool, a product, and a brand. The interviewer’s eyes lit up with every like, share, and comment on the video. To her, he’d been a tool to increase her ranking. Cedar didn’t see him like that. He chuckled. She probably saw him as a nuisance. He was okay with that. Really okay. He leaned forward in his seat, urging traffic to move faster.