Shane was working at the front desk. He did a double-take when Xavier came through the door. "Why are you here? You're supposed to be in New York."
"I know. Missed my train." He rubbed his hand over his eyes. Pain throbbed behind his eyes and at the base of his skull. "I stopped by Bliss to pick up some cupcakes to bring to the show, and Ashley's van wouldn't start. She had to make a delivery, so we used my SUV. I got to the platform as the train was pulling away."
A low whistle escaped his lips. "When you do something nice for someone, Karma isn't supposed to bite you in the ass for it."
"Yeah, well. Maybe things will even out, and we'll end up winning the competition."
"That might not do too much for your career post-playing days unless Food TV thinks you'd make a good host."
He snorted at the idea. "No way would they want me. The amount of knowledge I have about how to bake things could fill the smallest measuring cup ever made. Maybe even the smallest measuring spoon. I'll have to find another way to make a better impression on the football network's producers."
Shane nodded at the smear of frosting on Xavier's sleeve. "Send up a few boxes of cupcakes or cookies. The crew here loved the stuff Ashley made for the party. It might entice the producer to give you another shot."
"And it would be good publicity for Ash too."
Shane's brows drew together. He tilted his head and stared at Xavier like he was studying a complicating play on the field. "Interesting that helping her is the first thing that pops into your head."
Xavier shrugged. "Want to come over and watch the show? You can keep me from throwing things at the TV."
"Hell, yeah." He rounded the counter and swiped a water bottle off the desk. "I'm off the clock in ten minutes."
"I'll wait for you in the car. I have another phone call to make."
Five minutes later, he finished his explanation and waited for Mills' response.
"What the hell, Xavier? Do you know how this is going to look to the show's producer?"
"Yeah. I've already spoken to the guy at the network."
"Not him. My daughter and the rest of the people connected to producing the show on Food TV."
"I'm sorry."
A sigh, heavy with obvious disappointment, made him wince. "Son, you've worked hard to be one of the best in the game these last few years, but when you screw up, the first thing people are going to think about are all of those times you made headlines for the wrong reasons."
"I know." It sucked and maybe it wasn't fair, but it was his reality. He could never outrun his past.
Later that night, Xavier sat in his recliner, stretched out in full relax mode. Two beers and the company of his older brother had helped mellow his mood. Shane lay splayed across the couch, cradling the remote in one hand and a beer in the other.
Half an hour into the show, his phone lit up with a text from Ashley.
Ashley: Hey there! Do I have the show & time correct? You're not on my TV screen.
Xavier glared at the TV and his replacement: a recently retired player who had amazing camera presence. Muscles tight, he typed his response.
Missed my train.
A glance at the TV showed his replacement joking with the show's host and both of them wearing gleaming smiles. As if Rocky knew how Xavier was feeling, the dog trotted over and laid his head on Xavier's knee.
Three text bubbles popped onto his phone screen.
Ashley: Oh no!
Ashley: I'm so sorry. It's my fault. If you hadn't helped me, you would've made your train.
Ashley: I feel awful.
A sad face emoji followed the third text.
He shifted the ice pack on his wrist. He probably would have made his train. Dwelling on what happened wouldn't help anything. Just like putting a bad play or a bad game behind him, he had to put it behind him and focus on what he could do next.
Xavier: Don't worry about it.
Ashley: I need to make it up to you somehow.
Xavier: It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow.
It wasn't fine. And it wasn't her fault. Maybe if he'd been smarter, he could have handed over the keys to his vehicle at the bakery and then grabbed a cab to the train station. But hindsight couldn't fix the mess he'd made.
He wasn't sure if anything could.
* * *
He probably hated her now.
Ashley paged through recipe after recipe as the thought replayed over and over and over. She had to make it up to him, but how?
An idea formed, but what if it wasn't enough? What if she'd ruined things? Regret clutched her stomach, and uneasiness spread until it covered her skin from head to toe.
Katie marched into the room carrying a stack of papers. She looked angry and hurt and scared all at once. "We need to talk."
Ashley immediately pushed the recipes aside. "What's wrong?"
"I knocked over the plant in the office when I was watering it, and dirt went everywhere. Including your desk."
Oh no. She knew where this was going. Her muscles tightened, and that cloak of unease grew. "Katie..."
Her sister held up a hand. "And what did I see? Bills. Past due notices. Lots of debt. Maxed out credit cards. Ashley, I knew things were bad, but I didn't know they were this bad. How could you hide this from me?"
"Oh, Katie." She felt so helpless, so defeated, like such a failure. She stifled a sob and covered her face with her hands. "This wasn't how things were supposed to work out."
Soft footfalls padded across the floor. Katie rubbed her shaking shoulders. "Shh. Come on, don't worry."
"How can I not worry? We're months behind on rent. The only reason we're
