were not certain to whom it was written, which is how the paternity question arose.”
That’s one way to describe it, but I keep my mouth shut. She gives me another long look where my balls shrivel a little because I have no fucking clue what she’s about to say.
And then, to my surprise, her lips tilt up.
“I have found Mr. Kingston to be a wonderful parent. You know how much these boys have to juggle with football and classes, but he is also caring for my darling great-granddaughter.”
A swift wind could knock me over right now.
She pulls out a leather briefcase and hands him several spreadsheets. “You’ll find that he had babysitting covered with people who signed nondisclosure agreements. You can even see how he tried to squeeze in time with his daughter during his lunch breaks. And I have it on good authority that he’s an attentive father, caring and loving.”
It hits me so fucking hard. I feel it in my gut—Gabby did this. She made sure Adele came armed with evidence to support me. How else did she get all of those spreadsheets?
Adele chuckles. “When I first heard a football player was the father, I was prepared to rake this young man over the coals and get custody of Poppy if needed. But as you can see, I fully support Rider.” After a long pause, she taps the desk. “Of course, I’ll provide additional funding to the library renovations. For your time and trouble.”
The man sitting next to Dr. Isaacson, who has been taking notes the entire time, leans forward and asks, “Could your granddaughter possibly attest to these events?”
Dr. Isaacson glares at him, but Adele pipes up before he can say anything.
“Carl, I’m going to pretend that you’re not questioning my word. Margot would be perfectly happy to meet with you, but she’s in an Austin rehabilitation facility at the moment. However, she can provide an affidavit if needed.”
I’m relieved to hear Cricket is back from California and safe.
Adele’s eyes harden. “I trust everything I’ve shared today is confidential, because if I hear gossip spread about Margot, I will revoke my funding.”
Isaacson stands quickly and comes around the table. “Of course, Adele. Of course. I completely understand, and we’re happy to make accommodations in this situation.”
Adele gathers her things. “I hope this also means Rider will be reinstated to the team. That he’ll be able to play this weekend and his eligibility will not be threatened. Because I will not be able to sleep at night if the father of my great-grandbaby is somehow harmed professionally due to this little misunderstanding.”
“Absolutely.” He glances at me before he begins kissing her ass again. “It’ll be like nothing ever happened.”
The little firecracker winks at me as I let out a relieved breath.
Christ almighty.
I have to talk to Gabby. That woman has saved my ass. Again.
But that’s gonna have to wait because Coach pats me on the back and whispers, “No time to celebrate. Get your butt to practice. We have to prep for the game this weekend.”
Sweeter words have never been spoken.
Except…
“Coach.” I cough. “I don’t have a babysitter.”
He rubs the gray bristles on his chin. “Do you have that sling thing? If the coaches can take turns wearing her in that contraption, I think we can handle it. Don’t worry. We’ll keep her off the field so she doesn’t get beaned by a ball or anything.”
Adele comes up to us and gives Sully a big smile. “I can lend a hand if you would like. To make sure everyone has the ropes.”
He nods slowly, his eyes brightening. “That’d be mighty helpful.”
She turns to me and lifts an eyebrow. “It looks like you have a ball game to train for, young man. Best get to it.”
I smile for the first time all week. “Yes, ma’am.”
66
RIDER
After practice, I trot my happy ass over to Gabby’s. I’m dying to talk to her and share my good news. Thank her for everything. Ask her out on a real date where we’re not juggling the baby and pacifiers.
I’ve got my baby, I’ve got a great woman, and I’m gonna win the fucking game on Saturday.
When no one answers after I knock, I check my phone again.
Gabby hasn’t returned my calls yet, but she works at Archer’s on Thursdays, so it’s not a big deal. She often stays late to help with after-school programs.
I head back home and try to focus on the essay I need to write. It’s tough to concentrate, though, when