A familiar jolt of pride pulsed through Chase. His big sister was a doctor and a professor. She was well respected, well-liked and successful. Everything he’d always known she’d become, despite setbacks and difficult times. Chase stepped into her large office.
“Mom brought Nonna breakfast and the Sunday newspaper this morning.” Mallory turned on the lights. The warm glow did nothing to soften the annoyance in her tone. “Nonna enjoyed reading the article about your golf cart incident at that private club last night.”
Chase swiped his hand over his mouth, disrupting his grin. He could count on his nonna to be entertained. As a kid, Chase had to weed his grandmother’s garden and mow her lawn every Sunday. It was supposed to have been punishment for whatever infraction he’d caused during the school week—there was always something he’d managed to do in class that landed him in trouble. And yet, Sundays had quickly become his favorite day. His grandmother had taught him to cook and garden. She balanced her criticism with affection, disapproval with support. But mostly, she loved Chase fiercely. He loved her even more fiercely. He’d head to the store after this and pick up the ingredients to make Nonna her favorite dinner.
His sister dropped her purse on one of the twin high-backed leather chairs. “Mom was not as impressed with your golf cart racing skills. You should call her when we finish here.” A warning wove through his sister’s words.
Judging from the dozen voice mails and texts Chase hadn’t yet opened, his agent and the entire Bay Area Pioneers’ coaching staff were not impressed either. The off-season always became more complicated than the regular season. During the season, Chase kept his focus on football. Mostly.
Now, less than a month after the Pioneers had lost in the divisional playoff game to Oklahoma City, Chase had already made headlines. And not the kind the coaches and team owners wanted to read. If only that was all Chase had to face.
His sister rolled her leather chair toward her desk. Her keen gaze leveled on him. “You need a wife, Chase.”
As if a wife would solve anything. Marriage was win or lose. His mother had lost after their father had walked out, leaving their mom with three kids under the age of eight to raise all alone. His middle sister had lost too. Ivy had chosen the wrong guy and only recently begun to enjoy her life again. Two years after she’d signed the divorce papers. Chase preferred to remain single and secure. “Why would I ever want a wife?”
“You need someone to speak on behalf of your conscience.” Mallory booted up her computer and typed on the keyboard. “Maybe you’d listen to your wife.”
“Hey.” Chase lifted his hands in surrender. “The golf cart race was...”
“Not your idea.” His sister finished for him. “Nothing is ever your idea. Not climbing into a life-size inflatable hamster ball at that party. Or kayaking over a waterfall in a national preserve. Or powerboat racing in a restricted area. Yet you’re the one who always makes the headlines.”
Chase shifted in the chair. The stiff leather creaked. He forced himself to sit still. He’d squirmed less in the principal’s office. “That’s the problem with the spotlight—it’s hard to get away from it once it catches onto you.”
Mallory frowned at him. “Maybe you should try harder to avoid it.”
Chase teased, “Where’s the fun in that?”
“There’s nothing funny about your shoulder, Chase.” His sister turned the computer monitor toward him.
Mallory had arranged an MRI on Chase’s injured shoulder. Thanks to her colleague, Chase was getting the results early. Right now. In private. Before the Pioneers’ coaching staff and team doctors. Chase squeezed the armrests, digging his fingers into the leather. Pain throbbed through his right shoulder. He lowered his voice, flattening out his wince, and avoided looking at the computer screen. “I just need to rest it.”
“It’s not that simple this time.” Mallory’s face tensed.
He’d seen that look before. When Mallory had explained the complications about Nonna’s osteoporosis and the poor outlook for their cousin’s cancer diagnosis. But Mallory had never directed that specific look at him before.
Chase scrubbed his palms over his face, catching his beard. He should’ve shaved before he met his sister, put himself together better. That was the key, wasn’t it? Looking composed and confident made it so. He’d read that in a men’s magazine on the plane to Oklahoma City for the divisional playoff game. He’d had a career high for touchdown passes. It still hadn’t been enough to secure the win. Maybe if he hadn’t taken that hit in the fourth quarter. Maybe if...
Pain arced through his shoulder into his chest and down to his hand. Chase focused on his big toe like his physical therapist had taught him two days after his injury. Nothing ached there in his left toe. The pain sensation was only temporary. The air released inside his lungs. His concentration returned to his sister. “Is this Dr. Jacobs talking or my big sister?”
“Your big sister is ordering you to call Mom when you leave here.” Mallory set her folded hands on her desk and eyed him, her gaze solemn. “The anesthesiologist, on recommendation from her orthopedic surgeon colleague, is telling you that you must have surgery on your shoulder.”
Not another shoulder surgery. Not now. “But the hit wasn’t that bad.”
“Perhaps not.” Mallory leaned back in her chair. “But your entire shoulder was already compromised. Three prior surgeries tend to do that.”
“I played the entire fourth quarter and overtime with this injury.” He rolled his shoulder as if that proved he was fine and completely negated the need for an operation.
“Your shoulder needs to be fixed as soon as possible.” Mallory pulled the monitor toward her and studied the screen. “You’re going to need an extended recovery time.”
“Extended.” His shoulder throbbed as if
