Chasing Jillian: A Love and Football Novel (3 page)

Vivian arrived back at her desk an hour later, glowing with happiness.

“Did you have fun?” Jillian called out.

“Absolutely. Those boys are good for my self-esteem. What a bunch of flirts!” She fanned herself. “That Deion wants to take me out for a drink. I had to tell him no. Wait until I tell my husband about this. He won’t let me out of the house by myself!” She patted her hair and laughed. “Did you know that Seth just broke up with his girlfriend?”

“He did?” Jillian was not going to bring up her Friday night Google search. Nope. Not going to bring that up.

“Oh yes. They were together for two years. He said that she’s very jealous, and he’d finally had enough. He also said his younger sister is relieved. Can you imagine?”

“His sister didn’t like the girlfriend?”

“Oh no. Seth says he’s single again, so of course the other guys at the table were insisting they’d ‘hook him up.’ There was some name-calling, and I had to threaten to wash someone’s mouth out with soap.”

Jillian heard the telephone ring, and Vivian picked it up.

Just the thought that the guys were going to “hook up” Seth with anyone else made Jillian want to smash her coffee mug against her desk. He wasn’t a possibility for her by any stretch of the imagination, but she could still dream, couldn’t she?

Chapter Three

J
ILLIAN’S WEEK SPED
by after another lunchtime walk with Seth. She’d given him her number during their last walk, and he was going to text her when he could do another. She pretended like giving her number to a guy she was insanely attracted to happened every day of the week, but when she got home from work that night, she danced around her living room with glee.

The team wasn’t playing until Monday night, which meant Seth was getting ready for the team’s flight to San Francisco today.

She pulled up to the back door of a warehouse in Seattle on Saturday morning. The warehouse was part of the headquarters of Treehouse, a local charity that helped foster children have a childhood. Jillian had been volunteering with them for many years. She was digging into the pile of kids’ hats and mittens she’d bought a few days ago at Costco. She’d bought as much as she could afford. They’d go great with the five kids’ winter coats she’d bought last month. She made a good salary with the Sharks, but after paying her bills and putting money in savings and donations, there wasn’t a lot of room for frills.

She kept coming back to Treehouse because she felt needed. After all, she wanted to be like everyone else, and that was tough to do when others found out the thing they took for granted—a loving family—was something completely foreign to her. She did her best to keep her chin up every day, but it was a relief to be anywhere that there were others who had the same problems in life.

A staff member hurried past the doorway but doubled back when he saw her.

“Hey, Jillian. You bought more stuff? Do you spend any of your paycheck on yourself?” he joked.

“I found a sale.” She held up one of the winter coats. “These are great, aren’t they?”

“They are. I really like the white hat and gloves set with the sparkly pony on the side,” he said.

“I’m kind of into the pink one with the flowers myself,” she said.

“Need some help?”

“Nope, I’m good,” she said.

He gave her a nod and vanished into the building. Everyone here was busy and sometimes overwhelmed, but they did it because they loved the fact they could make a difference.

Jillian gathered up her donations in both arms, snagged her purse, and hip-checked her car door to shut it.

Most single women spent their weekends with friends, dancing at clubs, or out on dates. Jillian’s weekends were typically spent supervising other volunteers or chatting with teens who were ready to age out of the system when they visited headquarters. She did whatever she could to be helpful. Some days were heartbreaking. She knew from experience that one person could make the difference between a teenager who believed his or her life could be different and one who just gave up.

Her former foster parents weren’t the warmest, but they kept her housed, fed, and clothed. Instead of getting a part-time job when she was in school, they’d urged her to study. Jillian’s excellent grades translated into a scholarship to the University of Washington. It took her almost ten years to pay off her student loans when she graduated with a business degree, but even the ability to make the payments was a cause of pride to her. She’d beaten the odds. She was one of the 3 percent of former foster children who graduated from college.

She didn’t see her foster parents anymore. She sent them a Christmas card each year, but she didn’t receive any invitations to their holiday celebrations in return. Her foster parents had
done their best to make sure she had the tools she needed to succeed on her own when she was out of foster care. Unfortunately, their biological children were hostile to her, at best. She wasn’t sure how to salvage a relationship that never happened in the first place. But she was still thankful for the family’s help.

Everything was quiet so far. It would get a lot crazier at ten
AM
, when children and their foster parents were allowed into the donations area for “shopping.” Most people had no idea that foster kids received $150 per year from the state of Washington for all grooming needs. It wasn’t enough. Clothing could eat up that $150 in one shopping trip. There were so many things foster children struggled with, even if they had loving and supportive foster parents. Mostly, they wanted to fit in and belong.

Jillian hung up the five winter coats on a department store rack donated to Treehouse for clothing display. She piled the hats and mittens on another table covered in additional winter wear. After that, she hurried to a multipurpose room where she knew her latest “client” would be waiting. Treehouse had staff members with appropriate training who worked with the kids who were going to college. Jillian didn’t have that training, but she could act as a mentor. She enjoyed any opportunity to help with filling out scholarship and college applications or talking about the future plans of the teens she met. Plus, sometimes the most important skill she possessed was the ability to listen.

A young woman named Chastity sat at one of the long folding tables shoved up against a wall. She glanced around and grinned as Jillian hurried in.

“Hey. Sorry, I’m late,” Jillian called out. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“No, thanks.” Chastity brushed long black curls out of her eyes. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too.”

Jillian poured herself coffee, splashed in a little nondairy creamer, and took a seat next to Chastity. Chastity was one of the lucky ones—she lived in her cousin’s house. She wouldn’t be
asked to leave on her eighteenth birthday when the money stopped coming. She’d have to get a job and earn her way, but she had a roof over her head. At the same time, she longed to go to school, but there wasn’t any money for that right now.

“How are you doing?” Jillian asked.

“I’m okay. I filled out the scholarship paperwork and applications for school. There’s just one problem.” Chastity tried to peel off some chipped nail polish with her thumbnail.

“What’s that?”

“Application fees,” Charity said. “I hope I’ll get at least one scholarship. My grades are good, but . . . ” She studied the ceiling. “I wonder if I should go to a voc-tech instead.”

“Why?”

“The programs are shorter. I’ll get out with a skill.”

“Didn’t you tell me you wanted to be a clothing designer?” Jillian said.

“Yeah, but it . . . I want something I can find a job at right away. Maybe I can work on that in my spare time.” She wasn’t looking at Jillian. It was hard to look into someone else’s eyes and know you were failing, and you hadn’t even had a chance to try.

“What would you like to do instead?”

Chastity folded her arms over her chest. “I was thinking about the food service program.”

“Do you like food service?”

“It’s okay.” She looked at the floor and bit her lower lip. “I could do it.”

“But you’d hate it.”

“I’d be making money.”

Jillian took a sip of coffee. Chastity had shown her some of the designs she’d done and a few of the outfits she’d made on an old sewing machine her foster mother had bought at a thrift shop for twenty dollars. Jillian was amazed at what seemed to be a surprising amount of talent.
Chastity dressed herself out of donations and thrift-store finds; she seemed to know what went with what and why. She made other people’s castoffs look fresh and new.

“Okay. If you really want to apply to the voc-tech, I believe Treehouse can cover the application fee. I want you to apply to the School of Apparel Design and Development at Seattle Central Community College, though. If you’ll apply, I’ll pay your application fee.”

Chastity’s eyebrows shot up. “You would?”

“Yeah. When you’re a famous designer, you can pay someone else’s fee.”

Chastity seemed like she didn’t know what to say but then blurted out, “Absolutely. Thank you.”

Jillian pulled her checkbook out of her purse, wrote a check for the amount payable to the community college, and handed it to Chastity. “That should cover it, but if you need additional application fees, please let me know.” Jillian noted the check and the amount in her check register and glanced up at Chastity again. “How’s everything else going?”

“My cousin has a new boyfriend.” She wrapped her arms around her midsection. “He wants me to move out.”

“What does your cousin say?”

“She says I can stay, but she’s not going to let me stay if he says he’ll leave.”

This was the hardest part of the work for Jillian. She couldn’t take anyone else into her five-hundred-square-foot apartment. She knew she couldn’t offer everyone a home, everything they needed, or even a sense of belonging, but that didn’t prevent her from wanting to. The worst thing about being a foster child wasn’t the fact that you didn’t have a lot. You got used to that. It was the fact that no matter how hard you tried, every bit of security you’d worked so hard for could be ripped away in a matter of moments.

To this day, Jillian had a change of clothing and some emergency money in a backpack in her bedroom closet, just in case. She realized a therapist would have a field day with her reasons
for doing this, and she wondered how long it would be before she could unpack that change of clothes and put the money back in her checking account. Other people had someone to rely on—a family member, a friend, a spouse. She had nobody but herself. Well, she had her friend, Kari, who would try to help if Jillian needed her. Ultimately, though, Jillian was on her own.

Chastity wrapped her arms more tightly around herself, and Jillian felt her own stomach knot in fear. If Chastity could stay at her cousin’s for a while longer, she could go to school. Her chances for a somewhat successful adulthood would only increase with education and a stable living environment. Jillian pulled in a breath, despite wondering if her lungs would let her do so.

“Your cousin knows you need a place to live. She wouldn’t kick you out over some guy,” Jillian reassured her.

They both knew the truth, but sometimes it was easier to lie—Chastity’s cousin wouldn’t kick her out. Nobody’s family member would ever decline to take them in or steal what little any foster kids had or abuse them. They’d all grow up to be healthy and successful adults. It was the lie they told themselves to get through another day, another foster home, another reminder that they didn’t fit in.

Jillian patted Chastity’s upper arm. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Chastity glanced up from a long examination of her chipped fingernail polish. “Yeah.”

Jillian picked up the forms. “Let’s get these into some envelopes, and I’ll mail them on my way home. Want a cookie or something?”

“I’d like that.” Chastity and Jillian headed off down another long hallway to the office area.

Chapter Four

T
HE EARLY
S
EPTEMBER
sun was sinking on the horizon as Seth walked through the front door of his parents’ house a day after he arrived home from San Francisco. The Sharks had annihilated the Miners in their season opener, so he had today off.

He liked not grabbing for his keys when he stopped by to visit, but he wasn’t so sure his mom’s front-door-unlocked policy was a great idea these days. The vast majority of Sharks fans were nice people. There was always a small percentage, though, who would think it was cool to pay an uninvited visit to one of his family members. Hopefully, those individuals had no idea where his parents lived.

“Hey, Ma,” he called out. He heard running feet, and his mother, Nancy, emerged from the living room, all five-foot-nothing of her. It never ceased to amaze him that someone so slight could have given birth to a giant like him.

“Honey! How are you?” She threw her arms exuberantly around his neck. “It’s great to see you. How have you been?”

“Ma, you talked to me yesterday. What’s up?”

His mom was acting a little weird, but she grinned up at him. The uneasiness he felt drained away as she released him and smoothed the wrinkles out of her blouse. She patted her short dark hair as she pushed it off of her face. He glanced into the living room at the temporarily abandoned vacuum, dust rags, and can of furniture polish she must have been using. She always managed to keep herself busy at home, but he knew she wouldn’t mind a few minutes’ break.

“Well, your dad and I haven’t seen you for a few days, and we were wondering if something was wrong.”

“Things are fine. Well, they’re fine now.” He looped an arm around her shoulders. “Something happened, and I thought you should probably hear it from me before you heard it on
Sports Center
.” He walked her toward the kitchen. “Let’s sit down.”

Of course, this was her cue to start fussing over him. He tried to pretend like he didn’t like it, which made him a damn liar. No matter how old he was or how long he’d been on his own, he still liked it when his mom made a big deal about him.

“Do you want something to drink? You must be hungry. Let me fix you something,” she urged.

“No. I’m fine. I can get something out of the fridge if I’m thirsty.” He guided her into a chair at the kitchen table and sat down opposite her. “Relax.”

“Did something happen?”

He stifled a long sigh. “Yeah, it did. It’s been coming for a while, but I broke up with Kim last week. She’s been pushing me to take our relationship to the ‘next level,’ and she wanted me to move her up here. At the same time, she accused me of dating other women, and then she wanted to know when I was going to give her a ring . . . ” He felt his hands form into fists, and he hauled in a breath to calm down a little. Even talking about the fight he’d had with Kim pissed him off all over again. “I wasn’t seeing anyone else. I wasn’t interested. I don’t know where she got this crap.” He felt anger and hurt surging through him again. He knew things with Kim hadn’t been going well for quite some time, and he shared in the blame. Instead of breaking it off like adults, she wanted to make accusations, and he wanted to get as far away from her as possible instead of dealing with what went wrong.

“Of course you wouldn’t do something like that,” his mom said. “If she thought you would cheat on her, she didn’t know you very well, did she?”

“I’ve had enough of the wall-to-wall drama.” He bit his tongue as he remembered his mom probably wouldn’t appreciate his observation that the sex wasn’t worth it either. Maybe it
was time to wrap up this whole discussion. “Anyway, I had my assistant pack her stuff and changed the locks on the San Diego house this morning. If that doesn’t convince her we’re done, I don’t know what will.”

His mom’s lips twitched a bit as she struggled to conceal a smile. She had never liked Kim, but Seth knew she was smart enough to listen instead of getting in his face about it. She took his hand in both of hers. “Are you okay? Is there anything we can do?”

“No. I’m fine, but thanks.” He sat back in the chair and sighed heavily. “Kim’s called several times already today, but there’s voice mail for that.”

“Does your sister know?”

“Yeah.”

She held his hand. Obviously, he was a grown man. He didn’t need his mommy to fix things for him. At the same time, it was comforting for him to be here with her. He didn’t come to his parents for a lot of advice anymore. Most of the time, he could handle it himself. He’d had the urge to talk with his mom, though. He wondered if this made him a candy-ass or something.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” she said. “I’m relieved. Kim never liked us.”

“Most of the time, I didn’t think she liked me either.” He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles as he leaned back in his chair. “Ma, this is the thing I can’t get past. Why did she date me for so long? She didn’t love me. I don’t think she ever did. Was it the money?”

He knew why he’d dated Kim for as long as he had: apathy. It was easier to deal with what he already knew than to start all over again. He’d never been a big fan of change. He told himself he was too busy to break up with her and find someone new. Mostly, he was worried about his picker. He knew the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result, but he kept dating the same kinds of women and expecting someone different than who she turned out to be. He’d like to think he had the smarts to find a woman
who was a better choice, but maybe he didn’t. He folded his arms across his chest. Maybe the problem was him.

His mom thought about his question for a few moments. “We may never know.”

“But what does that say about me? One thing’s for sure—it makes me look damn stupid. You’d think I’d choose someone who’d treat me and my family well. Evidently not. I made a bad choice.”

“Why would you think it was all your fault? You got involved with a woman; it didn’t work out, and now you’re going to meet someone else. That’s the way things go.” She squeezed his hand. “What about that friend of Lauren’s? She’s always liked you.”

Seth was shocked. He regarded his mom with outrage. “She’s a baby!”

“She’s twenty-two now.” His mother was laughing, though. He hoped she wasn’t serious.

“Too young for me.” He shifted in his chair. College girls weren’t his preference these days either. “Actually, I met someone at work, but I don’t think it’s going anywhere.”

“Why not?”

“She works for the big boss. She’s off limits.” He shrugged one shoulder. “She’s different.”

“What’s she like?”

Seth rubbed his face with his hand. “Well, I think we’re about the same age. She’s funny and feisty. She doesn’t seem to give a shit what I do.”

“Seth Joseph—”

“Okay, Ma, I’ll try to can it with the swearing.” He grinned at her. “I know you don’t like it, but you ought to hear the locker room.”

“We see how it is when you guys play.”

“Yeah.” It always made him laugh when his mom would climb on him about his language. At least she wasn’t threatening to wash his mouth out with soap anymore. It wouldn’t kill him to try to keep it a little clean when she was around. “Here’s the deal with Jillian, though.”

“Jillian?”

“The woman at the office.”

“Oh. Okay.”

His mother busied herself straightening the paper napkins in the holder that had been on the kitchen table since he was a little boy. She aligned the matching salt and pepper shakers too.

“She’s different from the women I’ve dated before.”

His mother’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

“She’s . . . she’s normal,” he stammered. “Not a model or whatever. She’s short and curvy.” Seth made hand motions in the air to demonstrate Jillian’s shape. It didn’t explain how her hips swayed when she walked, though, or the laughter in her voice or the softness of her skin beneath his fingers. He could never explain to anyone else how remembering the stuff she’d said to him made him smile when she was nowhere around.

Nancy raised an eyebrow and gave Seth a slight head shake but said nothing.

“I like her. She’s fun to talk with.” He glanced away from his mom’s probing eyes. “I met her when she snuck into the weight room. She was working out to a DVD the other night,” he said.

“What happened?”

“I showed her how to use the treadmill, and we’ve gone for some walks at her lunchtime. We’ve talked a little.” He didn’t tell his mom that spending time with Jillian was the highlight of his day or the fact he was still having brain-melting wet dreams about her. Maybe her perfume was some kind of aphrodisiac.

Nancy’s hands went to her hips, and she narrowed her eyes. “And this was her idea? You’re not telling her what to do?”

Seth’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course not. Why would you think I would?”

His mom studied him for a moment. “You forget that I’ve known you for a while.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “When did you decide you needed an exercise buddy?”

“It’s not a formal thing. I give her some exercise tips, and she said she’d show me around town a little in return.”

Seth knew he probably should explain to his mother that despite the fact he hated change, he needed some—and fast. Right now, though, he didn’t want to get into it with anyone else, even someone he knew loved him. He’d agreed to come to Seattle because he thought he’d get back the burning hunger in his gut that drove him to achieve from the time he’d walked onto a football field for the first time. He still loved the game. He’d always love the game. He needed more than three hours on a Sunday afternoon sixteen weeks a year, however, and he needed to figure out what that “something more” might be for him.

His personal life wasn’t all it could be either. Part of the reason he’d agreed to the trade was that he wanted to be closer to his parents. They were getting older. His kid sister couldn’t handle their parents all by herself. He also couldn’t handle the nagging thought that spending time with Jillian seemed to be a hell of a lot more important to him than it was to her. She wasn’t sneaking around the building, trying to figure out ways to run into him.

Nancy shook her head. Her lips twitched with repressed laughter. “ ‘Show you around town’? You’ve been making trips to see us for years now. What’s really going on here?”

“Ma. Nothing’s going on. It’s not a big deal.”

J
ILLIAN ARRIVED HOME
from the office, fed CB, and stripped off her office clothes. She didn’t smell daisy-fresh. She’d actually have to use the T-shirt and shorts Seth had dropped on her desk last week if she kept walking at lunchtime. She tore the cardboard lid off a frozen dinner, shoved it
into the microwave, and hit a few buttons. She needed to relax a little. It hadn’t been that bad of a day, but she had had another encounter with Seth when he stopped by the facility to pick up some things on his day off, and it had taken the rest of the afternoon to stop thinking about him.

He wasn’t in her world. The best thing she could do was to pretend that he wasn’t there and put a stop to his dropping by her desk. She hurried into the bathroom, stripped off what was left of her clothes, and flipped on the shower. If she really hurried, she’d have time to catch a movie tonight before bed. Maybe she should call Kari. She and Kari had been friends since childhood. Kari had grown up and gotten married, but her husband traveled for work. She might have time for an evening out.

The phone rang while Jillian was drying her hair. The caller ID indicated it was Kari. Jillian laughed as she grabbed up her phone. “You must have known I was thinking about you.”

“So, what are you up to tonight?” Kari said.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go to the movies. I need to get out of the house.”

“That bad, huh?”

“No. I just need to see something besides the television and the kitty. How are you doing?”

“Oh, work’s stressful, but I can deal. Patrick’s on a trip to London. He’ll be back the day after tomorrow.”

“You must miss him.”

“I do, but it’s a great time for us to catch up with each other,” Kari said. “Want to come over? I’m not sure I’m up to the movies tonight because I don’t have a sitter lined up, but I’d love a chat. The baby’s asleep for the night already. Have you had dinner yet?”

“I’m making one of those frozen dinners—”

“Dump it. I’ve got stir-fry,” Kari told her. “Get in your car and get over here. Don’t forget your overnight bag.”

An hour later, Kari and Jillian brought bowls of chicken and veggies and a bottle of wine to the family room table in Kari’s house. Jillian had kept up her friendship with Kari through Jillian’s many moves over the years. Kari’s house was as welcoming and familiar to her as her own.

“So, Jill, tell me everything. How are all those gorgeous guys you work with? How’s your boss?”

Jillian had to laugh. Kari was happily married, but like many other women in the Seattle area, she was pretty interested in the exploits of the local pro football team. They’d had this conversation multiple times already, but it never got old, at least not for Kari.

“Well, let’s see here. One of the defensive guys came through the front office the other day in nothing but a pair of football pants. He wanted to talk to John, and John wasn’t in. It’s always weird to have a half-naked guy hanging out in the office.”

“It’s not bad if the guy in question has a body to die for.”

“No, it wasn’t bad at all,” Jillian told her. “He didn’t have a lot to say to me. He vanished fairly quickly when I told him John would talk with him the next morning.” She settled back against the couch. “The linebacker we got from San Diego caught me in the weight room after hours a couple of weeks ago.”

Kari’s eyes got huge. “What happened? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this the minute you got here!”

“It’s a little embarrassing—”

“Come on!” Kari took a long swallow from her wineglass. “That’s Seth Taylor, right? God, he’s gorgeous. I saw his pics in the
ESPN The Magazine
body issue.” She let out a sigh. “His body is unreal.”

Jillian had seen him up close. “Unreal” didn’t explain it.