CK4 Excerpt, Anyone?
Love's Encroachment Excerpt
~~~unedited, copyrighted version, subjected to change prior to publication~~~
PRESENT DAY
“Right in here.” She pointed into an open door.
Immediately, I saw it was his home office. Trent Bailey was in his chair with a toddler girl, I presumed to be his daughter, on his lap behind the desk. As she played with the chains on his neck, he chewed his bottom lip while paying me a cursory glance. Deep inside, I fortified myself for what could be an abrasive introductory meeting.
“Thanks, Ms. April.” I gave the woman a neck bow.
Her eyes grew wild. “Miss? You the coach! Ain’t you just a couple of years younger than me?”
I smirked at Trent’s aunt, per her introduction to me when I arrived at the Bailey estate in Alpine. “I wouldn’t know what to guess with a Black woman. I assure you, my reference is not based on your appearance. At first sight”—I stretched the truth—“I never would have taken you for his senior. So, forgive me for just being polite.”
April eyed me warily while chewing on her gum. As a patient man, I waited. “Oh!” was all she returned.
Then I heard another feminine voice. “Don’t forget the gel for the heating pads.”
“Damn,” Trent murmured. That’s when I realized he was on a call via speakerphone. “You didn’t pack those, either?”
“I was rushing out and got everything in the drawer but that. And don’t let Ky bring that PS5. This is a family vacation. He already has his phone and laptop.”
“You doing too much now, Jade.”
Sharply, she returned, “You heard what I said, Trent.”
His eyes landed on me in enmity. “I gotta go. Company just arrived.”
“C’mon, Ava Nese,” April ordered to the baby girl. “Let your dad take his company.”
Trent kissed his daughter and let her down onto the floor. Her little legs worked out of rhythm as she ran into April’s arms. The two took off down the hall.
“Before you go, did you remember to pay Leo? I told him you would before we leave.”
“Jade!” he barked, but without an ounce of testosterone.
“Pay him,” was her response. “Bye for now.”
Trent hit a button, ending the call before standing. I met him in the middle of the office that was, by far, larger than mine. It would make sense for it to be; Trent Bailey had a mansion.
“Thanks for coming.”
“It’s a pleasure to be here.” Trent pointed to one of the chairs across the office in a sitting area. I followed his invitation and crossed the room for the sofa. “Or should I say, it’s good to know the good ol’ pastor.”
“It helps,” Trent agreed, sitting across from me. “But only Jesus saves.”
Ahhhh…
Trent was confirming I needed saving for his good graces.
“Then let’s get right to the point, shall we?”
He flung his fingers, inviting me to. “I knew what this was when you asked for it.”
“I’m not the type of coach to beg for leadership and respect. I haven’t done that shit since high school ball. At this point in my career, I’m far more conversant with grown men who have a voice and a perspective.” With pouted lips, Trent nodded as though he agreed. “I understand you and the rest of the players have both. And I’m here to receive both. I feel the need to make that clear.”
“With all due respect, you can’t believe you’re the first to make that claim.”
Fucking Jeff Nealson…
“I can’t speak for what others have said or done. I just know I have my own endeavors for the Kings that include football—exclusively.”
Trent waggled his finger. “And that can be problematic, too. It’s never just about football and should never be. As the captain of this team for more years than I can count, it’s always been about modeling good leadership, integrity, compassion, and dignity. It’s not just about the field for me to work effectively. It’s about my walk. It’s about me making sure all fifty-three players are seen by me. I divide my attention by giving priority to the first and second tier-ers, but everyone gets the best of me from May to January, and sometimes February.
“It’s learning their temperament, overlooking their bullshit. It’s giving tough love, going to funerals of people I never met but understand they were valued. It’s being big bruh to an egotistical Rut Amare, to hugging it out with a bloody Terrance Grant after quietly, yet violently whooping his ass for trying to holla at my pregnant lady in the locker room after practice because I know I have to work with him on that green. It’s about knowing the names of grandmothers and god-kids and their stories. It’s about fuckin’ caring, man.”
Stunned by his lack of acknowledgement, I exhaled and blinked hard. “Again, TB, this ain’t my first rodeo.”
“Yeah, but it’ll be your first ride with me.” After a long stare, Trent’s head bounced back for emphasis. “Bruh, I’m tired. You and me ain’t the same age, but you ain’t too far from me to get how fucked up my burnout is.”
“So, we’re about to make this about my age now?”
Ignoring that challenge, Trent continued, “You did your research on me,” he referred to me reaching out to Ezra Carmichael for me to get some of Trent’s off-season time today. “You know both Lou and Nealson were in their sixties—hell, Coach Lou was damn near seventy when that shit came crashing down about those prostitutes. Both them dudes couldn’t show integrity when it came to women. Do you know how bad it would’ve been for the franchise if Nealson tried some shit with my wife? Bruh, you gotta understand all of our perspectives here. The front office keeps dropping the damn ball, that last time risking our households.”
Last week, I’d heard Nealson, the previous head coach, had actually gotten one of the linebackers’ baby’s mother pregnant and strong-armed her into an abortion. Of course, I understood how unethical that was.
“Look, man: he was out of pocket—both of them were. Neither Brown or Nealson showed an ounce of moral discipline or respect for themselves, not just the organization and the players.”
“Yeah. So my question to you, Pierce, is: how do you think your walk with us would be different? I’ve done my research, too! You’re only forty-three, never been married, and have no kids? You can’t even relate to me or my teammates.”
“I can relate professionally, which is why I got the job, Trent.” I felt my fucking temper flaring, which was a bad sign. “Look, I’m not gonna sit here and make any promises or try to pledge to some moral conduct. But since you wanna challenge my personal life, I’ll tell you yes, I am happily single. Although I’m a product of two committed, married parents, this lifestyle’s been kind to me. I don’t fuck prostitutes: never have. I don’t need to pay for ass. And to keep it a buck, I’m a practiced private person. I’m not ruled by the chase of ass.”
“Good to hear.”
Hear…
I scoffed, looking away. This shit with Trent Bailey would be a marathon, I then understood.
“Look, man, I gotta pack up to get the family on the road. I’m not even supposed to be speaking with you right now.”
“Why not?”
“Because this here,” he pointed toward the floor, “is Jade’s time, and she ain’t about sharing it with the League who can’t give her a trustworthy head coach.”
I scratched the back of my head, confused and offended. “It was Jade who arranged it.”
“At your request—or should I say, at Pastor Ezra’s.”
“Trent, I’m trying here.” All I could do was stare at him.
I could tell he was warring with something inside. I knew it had to do with the low morale of the organization due to my predecessors, but I didn’t understand the stubbornness. I was not Brown or Nealson, neither would I start my time here kissing ass. That was a far cry from me simply proving myself. There was a distinct difference.
Trent hung his head, exhaling. “When the shit popped off with Coach Nealson and Richardson, Williams, and LeGrier came to me about their next selection for a head coach, I told them to bring me someone who could relate to me. That’s it. Let that man understand what it’s like walking in Jade Bailey’s shoes from May until January. Make sure he knows how she runs this place like a tight team itself. How she only sees me maybe three to four days a week. How most of those days, she allows me to come home to minimal noise in the house.
“How that woman strategically manages my time with the kids, our side businesses, and hers. How she only gets Bye Week with me during the season, and that’s only parts of me because my head is still in the game. How she has to raise our kids practically without me. The next coach governing over such a significant portion of my life needs to know when she miscarried our baby a while back, I only had one day to hold her and promise it wasn’t her fault, assure her that her body was perfect, and that I’d give her another one whenever she was ready. They needed to know I use my agent to help romance her when I’m focused in the season, because my stupid ass don’t know how to woo her materialistically.
“I asked them to know how much that woman starves in those, sometimes, six months from my absence and considers it a privilege. And let’s not mention my off-season training, because, bruh,” he referred to his body, “this shit don’t happen by working six months out of twelve. This incoming man had to understand how exhausting it is for me to give my all for flaky ass football fans one half of the year then spend the last half fighting to prove to my wife why I’m worthy of her starvation—her year-round commitment.” Trent shook his head. “So, if you think just because we know the game of football well and how you’ve been granted some of Jade Bailey’s time, that I owe you something right here and right now, you’ve just wasted pastor’s and mine.”
Defeated, I stood, rubbing my lips together. “Thanks for having me over.” I proffered my palm.
With turmoil weighing his face, too, Trent accepted my shake. “Thanks for coming by,” he graveled.
“I’ll see myself out.”
Doing so wasn’t a difficult feat, seeing his office wasn’t much of a distance from the front door. Once there, a grounds worker, based on his soiled uniform, held it open for me. I thanked him with a nod and left out for my car. When I drove off the Bailey estate, I admired the professional upkeep of the landscape. It made me think about the picture Trent just painted to me about the struggle of his and his wife’s marriage as a League couple and how many didn’t know it was what all the players in committed relationships experienced. But to the world at large, their lives were as perfect as the manicured land I passed through to get to the main road.
It was similar to how Trent assumed I didn’t know about his lifestyle, as though I hadn’t coached for years and had to serve as a therapist to my players and their families at times. As though I didn’t have my own now that Zo was in my life…and now his mother.
Nye “moved” in a couple of days ago. I hadn’t seen much of her because I’d been mostly in Connecticut. Today, I was returning home, but had stopped to visit my QB before heading down the Turnpike. And as a result, a tight grip began at the back of my skull.
My telephone rang through the Bluetooth, suspending the music.
“Hey,” I answered, eager to hear from her.
“I hope you’re not going to flake on me.”
“Not on your life, shortie. I’m ready for you.” I damn sure was.
“Good,” she purred, or at least that’s what my dick heard. “I bought two bottles of this expensive ass Blevin wine.”
“Awwww…” I cooed teasingly. “Château Blevin tastes better on you than it does in a glass any day.”
She sputtered a laugh and I knew I had her. “Boy, get your ass over here.”
Pressing down on the accelerator, I pledged, “You got it.”
Thoughts of being in the presence of a woman tonight temporarily aided the stress of not having yet connected with my franchise player. I’d have to table that accomplishment for now.
*Publisher’s Note: Love's Encroachment will not be available in the Kindle Unlimited library. It will, however, be available on multiple retailer's shelves for purchase.
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