general manager. She’d made signing the placekicker her first priority.
Her second was informing the young woman what a pain in the ass everyone was going to be as she tried doing that job.
“I’m serious. They want you to fail. They’re going to do everything in their power to make sure you run screaming from the field.”
“I’m used to men challenging me,” she’d offered, not releasing any of the tension in her grip.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Gia had left her desk, coming to sit next to Reese in the chair at her side. “But this isn’t Duke, and your daddy isn’t the coach. He trained you. He did a phenomenal job. Now you need to show the world that you’re the best.”
“I thought I was here because I’m the best.”
“You’re here because I wanted you here and you earned your spot. But you have to be better than even the best already in the league. They’ll expect you to be decent. You’ll have to be better than they expect.”
She’d seemed to get it and by the time Gia had convinced her to relax enough to join Cat for a drink at Lucy’s, she thought Reese might actually believe her.
But watching her move on the field now, seeing how the special teams coach, Buddy Mills treated her placekicker—badly—proved to Gia the hard truth: the bastards that would make shit hard for her were in her own house.
The woman had leveled a twenty-five yard kick through the uprights with no trouble at all, getting no feedback from her coach, nothing at all but a nod and congratulatory smile from the punter, Michael Wilkens before Mills seemed to decide she warranted further attention.
He scribbled something onto his clipboard, scratching his fat neck, his narrow eyes hidden behind the brim of his black Steamers visor, before he pointed to the punter.
“Wilkens. Thirty-five. Let’s see if she…”
He said the pronoun like it sullied his mouth, and Reese seemed to catch his attitude. Then, just like that, the spitfire woman Gia had followed for three years, the same woman who’d gone nose-to-nose with an Alabama defensive lineman when he tried swiping her leg as she attempted a kick, decided to show up and inform her new coach she most assured was not the one.
“She,” Reese started, loud enough to pull the attention of the drilling players around her, and most of the squads breaking on the sidelines, “has a name and is on this team. Got a shiny new contract and everything.”
Next to Gia, Cat nudged her elbow, but she didn’t respond. Like Gia, her assistant had championed the young placekicker, but they had to hide their biases. They had to remain professional. Gia didn’t look at Cat but caught her slow-working grin when Reese stepped in front of Mills, intercepting the ball he threw to Wilkens, her head tilted. It was the silent, whatcha got to say now? to the coach that Gia suspected would go unanswered. Mills was a bully and a chauvinist. He’d brought in a few players, some of them not even on his team, but on the whole, he barely managed to keep his job and he seemed to know it. It was likely the reason for his disgruntled attitude at having been left the task of working out the new placekicker. He seemed insulted to be left with the girl.
Reese shot Gia a look, one she returned with an approving smirk, before the woman glanced at the head coach. Then, she glared back up at Mills, tucking the ball under her elbow. Gia didn’t think she had any intention of handing it back to him.
“Why do thirty-five? Why not forty? Goal is ten yards past the uprights, si? So, from the forty and that would be a fifty-yard kick.”
Mills’ grin told Gia all she needed to know about what he thought of Noble. He doubted her. “Bastard,” she said, under her breath, wanting to charge onto the field and get in the man’s face. Next to her, Cat released a low laugh, and nodded, but neither woman made another sound. They both seemed too caught up, too rapt by what Reese would do next and who would stop to see it.
“She’s got spunk,” Cat said when Reese didn’t back down from Mills’ threatening smile. When Mills rolled his eyes at the kick Reese made.
“In abundance,” Gia said, crossing her arms, breath held as Reese spoke to Wilkens who held the ball for her at the forty-yard line. Around them on the field