Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Chapter 2
Easton
“Mr. Bosa, your brother is here to see you.” I’m at my desk, looking over a contract for an assistant coach to figure out how to fire him without any blowback when my office phone rang. I knew it was my assistant. She’s the only one who has the direct line to my office. It seems like we can’t keep assistant coaches for more than a year at a time anymore, either due to performance issues or a situation like this one. The public fallout has created the media attention we didn’t need. Usually, what a coach does during his off time isn’t a concern, yet it’s common fucking knowledge you don’t put your dick in another coach’s daughter and not expect a repercussion of some sort. I swear being a general manager to a professional football team is more or less a full-time babysitting gig.
“Goddamn it, I don’t have time today.” My younger brother showing up here without so much as calling me first. Well, that means one thing. He needs another favor. I love him, I’d do anything for him and have before, but damn, today is not the day.
“Want me to tell him you’re in a meeting?” she replies quietly. I wish that were the case and he’d actually listen. He won’t. Justin may look like his mother, but he’s like our father. There’s no compromising. It’s his way or no way. Justin is a result of my father’s second marriage. He couldn’t get it right back then, and judging by how marriage number four is going, it won’t be long until he’ll be divorced again. Mason Bosa owns the football team I manage, and it wasn’t given to me. Dad may have money, but it wasn’t ours to spend or have. He made us work for it. I wanted in on the family business. Justin didn’t. He started a business of his own, something to do with an online app. Truthfully, I thought he’d live off Dad forever, especially because he’s twenty-two to my thirty-six, fourteen years younger than I am.
“No, he’ll just sit out there and pester you. Then neither of us will get any work done. Send him in.” I push the contract out of the way. There’s no use in looking at it until Justin leaves.
“You got it.” She’s about to hang up.
“Samantha, if he’s not gone in thirty minutes, call and say I have a meeting or something.” I don’t mind spending time with Justin on any other day. On workdays, I’d like to actually work and not take this bullshit home with me any more than I have to.
“Of course.” We hang up. I pick up the contract I pushed away moments ago and place it in front of me once again. The media frenzy is going wild, and while Monte, the head coach in Louisiana, is pissed, he has to see this will help their ratings. Hell, we’re already seeing ticket sales pick up here for the Florida Panthers.
“Just the guy I needed to see.” Fuck me. The way Justin is greeting me, there’s going to be a favor involved, one that will never be returned.
“The answer is no, Justin. Not just no, fuck no. Get out, go home, go to work, go the fuck away.” My younger brother is the laidback Bosa brother. On the weekend, you can find him at the beach, surfboard either under his arm or beneath his body while he tries to catch a wave. Me, on the other hand, I hang out at home. My home also overlooks the ocean, much like Justin’s, only at the opposite end. He wanted the party atmosphere, while I wanted to be more secluded. He’s an extrovert through and through, and I’m the opposite. While he’s out at daybreak catching the waves, I’m up at the same time. Only I’m in my home gym getting a workout in before I have to put out fires and prepare for the games on Sundays, Mondays, and Thursdays in any given week.
“It’s not that bad. I only need you to go to an event with a woman.” Jesus, last week, it was watching his house while he was out of town because some woman was being a stage-five clinger. He had to go out of town for some work thing and that left me doing Justin’s dirty work.
“No, Justin, absolutely not. This is too fucking much.” My brother is slouched in the chair, wearing his usual clothing. The complete opposite of my three-piece suit. Justin has on a cotton shirt with some kind of wax brand, talking about sex and coconuts. He probably got it for free when he bought a new surfboard. Speaking of, he must have just come from the beach, because the board shorts and flip-flops round out his attire.