The Total Package Read online

  All that changed the day she laid eyes on Tyson Palmer.

  She had been trying to earn some extra money while in college. Even with her scholarships and her parents picking up the slack with her tuition, there was nothing left to spare. She wasn’t eligible for the RA program until her junior year, and it seemed impossible to find a job off campus that would fall in line with her classes and leave her weekends free. She was already working for the school paper in the hope of earning the coveted football team reporter spot by the time she was a senior. When she applied for a position in the tutor pool, it seemed like a logical choice. When she got the call that she was going to be tutoring the team’s star quarterback, it was impossible to not look at it as a sign from the universe that she was on the right path. Now she would have someone to talk football with, someone with the ability to put in a good word for her with the newspaper’s sports editor.

  The first time Dani met Tyson, her breath unexpectedly left her in a rush. It wasn’t just that he was handsome, although he certainly was. It wasn’t that he looked like he was wearing shoulder pads, even when he wasn’t, or the way his jeans were held up by his sexy backside. It wasn’t the swagger in his walk. It was the mischievous twinkle in his deep blue eyes, his playful sincerity. And the way his face would light up whenever she mentioned his most recent game, which she always attended. He remained kind and respectful even after she was sure her crush became obvious. Her heart thumped so loudly around him, she was certain he had to have heard it. The more time she spent in his presence, the more all her old beliefs became challenges. Her heart would race when he talked to her and she would feel tingly all over.

  Even when ­people were kissing his arse and she was an ignorant underclassman, he took the time to make her feel . . . special. He always gave her a quick wave, like he was genuinely happy to see her, shouting out hello sometimes from across a courtyard on campus, even when he was busy dashing from one task to another, which he usually was.

  Dani had convinced herself that his flirting was all in her imagination, until the kiss.

  It had been right out of every schoolgirl’s dream. It was soft and romantic, and he was embarrassed for a minute after she broke the bad news that she wasn’t that kind of girl.

  But when it came to Tyson Palmer, she wanted to be that kind of girl. She wanted to be uninhibited and sexy, like the women who always seemed to follow him around. But she also wanted so much more. She wanted to be the one girl, out of all the others, that he remembered. But she knew it was too much to ask. She just wasn’t that extraordinary, didn’t devote her life to being pretty. She soon became another face in the crowd. Everyone knew he was destined for greatness, and they were rooting for him, as was she. The semester ended and her ser­vices were no longer required. Without having booty call status, her number was dropped from his phone.

  But instead of watching his rising star shine, she bore witness to his steady decline and eventual breakdown. Her heart ached for him on a weekly basis, even as her brothers joked about how, thanks to her, at least he knew sentence structure. But she had already seen firsthand a taste of what his life was like and the kind of pressure he was under, even back in school, when he had to mix his education in with a grueling schedule. It wasn’t a question of if but when the constant stress would take down his devil-­may-­care, happy demeanor. Dani never outgrew the crush and continued to love him with her nineteen-­year-­old heart.

  She would fantasize about him, concocting elaborate scenarios of a chance meeting, where he would recognize her and they would reconnect. He would confide in her, and she would listen. She would be his rock and he would gather and regain his strength from her.

  And in her dreams, she would do all the things to him that she wanted to after that first kiss. She would love him so much that he couldn’t imagine a life without her.

  And in a moment of serendipity, Dani got that chance. She never expected to see him at homecoming. She had never gotten the job to report from the sidelines either. She swallowed that bitter pill and watched another dude rattle off stats and high-­five players all season. Word had come down from the alumni office that Tyson hadn’t been invited. They didn’t need to voice the reasons why. He had become an embarrassment. While waiting for the elevator at her dorm, she overheard students talking to each other about having sighted Tyson at the Bunker. The more they laughed at what a hot mess he was, the more resolved she felt.

  Dani believed she had manifested her own fate. This was her chance to be Tyson’s rock—­to pick him up, dust him off, and show him how much he deserved her. But sometimes fate is fickle.

  In the months that followed, when she could no longer hide her expanding belly, she began her career in deceit and told her first lie. She tearfully told her parents about a party she went to and after having one too many, she made a bad decision with a handsome nameless stranger. They only had one question: Had it genuinely been her decision? After assuring them she hadn’t been assaulted, they were nothing but supportive. Her parents laughed and sang while they converted Damian’s old room into a nursery. They all showed up and clapped with pride as she waddled up to receive her master’s diploma in media and communications, telling her that she could be anything she wanted to be. She thought about Tyson every day, worried about where he was and reflecting on how it was probably for the best that her baby never know his father as a drugged-­out mess. On the very day she woke up and promised herself she would spend this day and every day thinking of nothing but how to be the best mother possible, Clinton Barrow held a news conference. The kind designed to set the football world on fire. From the press room at Maverick Field, and with all the frenzied pomp and circumstance he could manage, Barrow made the announcement.

  Tyson Palmer was making his return.

  It only took hearing his name spoken out loud for Dani’s heart to start racing. She watched from her parents’ couch with her feet up to minimize the swelling in her ankles as Barrow trumpeted his new acquisition, flanked by stone-­faced coaches doing their best to look optimistic. Sitting in the middle, next to his new boss, was the man himself.

  Tyson was back, bigger, stronger, and hotter than ever. Gone was the rambunctious loudmouth, replaced by a subdued, clear-­eyed version who spoke humbly about how grateful he was to the Mavericks organization for giving him the opportunity to play again.

  Clinton Barrow was smart. He made it short and sweet, and they all left the room before any questions could be asked. It wasn’t until it was over that Dani was able to draw a decent breath. Five minutes after that, her water broke.

  DANI FINISHED PACKING AND WENT downstairs. Her stomach growled, tempted by the smell of sausage and peppers. Danza and Brendon were at the big kitchen table working on a SpongeBob jigsaw puzzle. She crouched down next to her favorite boy.

  “Hey, you. Kiss me,” she said. He looked up from what he was doing and complied. Then he showed her a piece of the big chunky puzzle.

  “It’s Mr. Crab’s foot,” he told her proudly.

  Dani looked at the little stub of red surrounded in blue. “I’ll take your word on that.”

  Then Brendon gifted her with an adorable, bubble-­filled, raspberry-­like laugh. “Real crabs don’t wear pants,” he pshawed, shaking his head.

  Her mother stopped humming the SpongeBob theme song and asked, “You staying for dinner? Now that you got this new job, I see you’ve started eating again.”

  Her mother wasn’t trying to give her a hard time. She hated to see good food underappreciated. It was really the only time she criticized her daughter.

  “Of course I’m staying for dinner,” Dani was quick to reply. If there was ever a time to incorporate stress eating and comfort foods, it was now. “Who knows when I’ll get cooking this good again?”

  Danza took a moment to look up from the puzzle.

  “Sometimes the things we want most come with the most sacrifice,�
�� Danza reminded her while getting up to stir a pot of sauce.

  Dani bit back the joke about wanting to get her out of the house so she could have the baby to herself. Not only wasn’t it true, but of all the ­people in her corner, her mother had said the least about her transformation. At times, she helped with the planning and execution.

  “Yeah.” Dante came into the room to grab a ­couple beers for himself and Papa while they watched some baseball. It provided an opportunity to bust her chops. “Come on, by now you have to be getting tired of grilled chicken breast.”

  But Dani hadn’t heard him, she was busy staring at Brendon and still reminiscing.

  Not long after Brendon was born, during a middle-­of-­the-­night feeding, they sat together in the nursery. Whenever Danza heard him cry, she would put on her robe and slippers and pad down the hall to see if Dani needed any help. She never interfered, but on that night Dani was feeling especially tired and hormonal. After one look at Dani’s exhausted face, Danza asked if she could join her. They sat for a few minutes to the sound of Brendon sucking on his bottle and the occasional creak from their rocking chairs.

  “You’ve been blessed,” Danza said gently.

  “He is beautiful, isn’t he?” Dani sniffed with emotion. There were times she longed to tell someone, anyone, about her unrequited love. In the quiet times when it was nothing but her newborn and a night-­light, she could hear the sound of her heart aching.

  “He certainly is. But that’s not what I mean. You’ve been blessed in many ways. Not many ­people have your brains. Or your gonads. Or your support system.”

  They exchanged small smiles, Dani’s one of relief, Danza’s one of belief.

  “All women should be able to do what they love,” Danza stated from her chair. “When we were young, your dad used to tell me that a woman who feels fulfilled will remain beautiful her entire life. I loved being a mother and homemaker. He worked hard so I could be the best one.”

  “Daddy’s a smart man.” Dani felt her eyes welling up, grateful for the relative darkness.

  “And a good one,” Danza said.

  “I wonder if he’s the last one.”

  Danza’s toned-­down chuckle filled the room, and Brendon’s eyes opened for a moment. He cooed slightly in response to it before closing them and resuming his feeding.

  “He’s not the first, last, or only good man out there. He just needed minimal training,” Danza teased before asking, “What would you love to be?”

  “I would love to be a good mother. Like you.” Not only did she want it to be true, but she also thought it was what her mother wanted to hear.

  “And you can be, if you feel fulfilled as a woman.”

  “All I feel like right now is a bloated, weepy wreck.” Dani laughed weakly.

  “That will pass. And when it does you’re going to want to be ready. Ready to get back to your dream and your calling.”

  Her calling had always been to break into broadcasting, and not just any broadcasting. She had never gotten over being passed up for her time on the sidelines.

  Her dream had been the same for years. She had never shared it, and even while sniffling in the dark, she still didn’t want to.

  The knowing smile from her mother made her want to have both. And strangely enough, they did go hand in hand. But was she willing to give fate another chance?

  “Give me that baby,” Danza whispered while reaching out for him. Brendon fussed briefly while Dani handed him over, followed by his bottle. Danza expertly cradled him in her arms and he stilled. “Go get some sleep, you have plans to make. Remember, you don’t win by playing men at their own game, you win by outsmarting them.”

  It began with a gym membership to lose the baby weight and rock her bod in general. She didn’t become discouraged as her figure struggled to bounce back to her prebaby days. She refused to hate herself for having put her body through the ultimate endurance test, one that resulted in a miracle. She changed the color of her hair from chestnut to highlighted blond. Next to go was her wardrobe. She studied the girls who were already in the biz and piece by piece started buying similar clothes. She gave up the glasses in favor of contact lenses. And her mother cheered her on as she did so. She even shushed her father when he bemoaned his disapproval after she changed her name to Dani Carr.

  “But she’s a Carrino,” he said, pouting.

  “Demo,” Danza chided her husband. “She wants to compete in a man’s world. She thinks a more masculine name gives her an advantage. It’s like a stage name. She’ll always be a Carrino.”

  “She sure doesn’t look like a man. Some of those sweaters are pretty tight,” Papa grumped in fatherly fashion.

  By the time she submitted her first application, Dani had come to several conclusions. She didn’t just want to make it in a man’s world. She wanted to infiltrate what she decided was more of a misogynistic boys’ club.

  After her first interview with the Philadelphia affiliate of CBS, she was sure of it.

  The timing was perfect. Women were being hired at an alarming rate to satisfy the now-­public outcry for less sexism in sports broadcasting roles.

  She got a job as the fourth-­level sideline reporter. It was really more of a glorified internship. Her responsibilities would mostly entail feeding stats to the woman who had already paid her dues and the boys in the booth. It didn’t even guarantee her airtime.

  But Dani Carr had arrived. The job fueled the dream of once again meeting up with Tyson Palmer. But she couldn’t spend too much time dreaming; she still had lots of work to do. Most of it was an uphill battle.

  Dani learned to ignore blatant sexist remarks and catcalls. She stiffened her spine when ­people insinuated that she didn’t know a damn thing about football because she’d never played. She got good at judging whose stupid jokes she needed to laugh at, even when her first instinct would be to introduce her knee to their inseam. By Brendon’s second birthday she was being courted by an agent and offered a second-­level position.

  The Mavericks had become a hot ticket, thanks in part to their recently redeemed quarterback. Dani had moved up the ranks and now had the privilege of being fed live to the “good ole boys” in the studio. It was one step closer to her final objective, breaking up the all-­male posse that sat in the comfort of the studio discussing matchups and sharing well-­calculated predictions. She knew what she wanted to accomplish was daunting at best, but she was also willing to put in the time. The boys back in the studio, unaware of her final goal, actually had begun to respect her knowledge. When broadcasting was ahead of schedule and there was airtime to spare, it wasn’t uncommon for them to engage her for several minutes about her interpretation of the game’s high and low points, which in and of itself was a major coup. It was then Dani started thinking that maybe, just maybe, she might be able to have it all.

  Three weeks later, she was told she was going to Boston to cover the Blitz-­Mavericks game. As soon as she found out, her heart started to pitter-­patter in an all too familiar way. She worked herself up with the fantasy that after his initial shock, Tyson would apologize for his behavior that fateful night. She would forgive him because that’s what ­people did when they loved someone. And then, once she knew he was truly healthy and worthy, Dani would tell him about their son.

  By the time the Blitz-­Mavericks game was in the fourth quarter, she was practically dancing with excitement. It was clear that nothing short of a miracle would hand over a win to the Mavericks. The wait was excruciating, and she was anxious to set her plan into motion.

  She would go right up to him, with her microphone off, and ask him, “Tyson, the Blitz defense was really all over you today. Were you starting to think the only way to keep you safe would be to stick you in a ‘bunker’?” She’d make sure to add a little wink. She would come clean as soon as he gave her the “Do I know you? You seem familiar.”
/>   Dani kept her eyes on him after time ran out with the Blitz’s win and field began to flood with players and press. She jockeyed her crew into position to make sure he couldn’t get past her.

  It had all gone according to plan. Until he got close enough and every single feeling she ever had about him hit her full force. It was worse than when she had seen him last. Her feet were the first to betray her and walked her right up to him, microphone ready to thrust in his face. As soon as she caught his eye, all her words failed her and her mouth refused to open.