The Total Package (7 page)

But of all the things Tyson was unsure of, there was one ideal that wouldn’t be shaken. No matter what happened from here on out, he’d be handling it with all his faculties. He would not go back to using.

Almost two hours later he arrived at the high-rise, prepared to at least try to get his stuff back, even if it did all really belong to the Mavericks. That task would be easy in comparison to what would come after it. He would be forced to make a collect call to his mother, the only person he could count on to bail him without conditions and his last resort. She would wire him the rest of the money to get him home. He couldn’t worry beyond that. He was back to taking it one minute at a time, only now his heart was heavy, and he was disappointed in himself.

He stormed into the building, ready to take on the doorman.

“I’m here to see Logan Montgomery,” he announced with as much dignity as his now-sticky attire and sweat-soaked hair would allow. He hoped the shivering looked more like he was vibrating in anger.

But the man behind the front desk didn’t buzz up to the apartment. Instead he reached into a drawer, retrieved an envelope, and handed it to him.

“Mr. Palmer,” the doorman said cordially, “Mr. Montgomery asked me to give you this.”

Inside the envelope were Logan’s keys to both the condo and his car with a note that read:

The address to the gym is in the GPS. Be there 8:00
A.M.
sharp.

Tyson was stunned. He had started an altercation with the person who held the keys to his future, and it appeared he was being rewarded for it. With keys no less, that gave him more easy access to the outside world. Puzzled, he thanked the doorman and proceeded to the elevator to follow his usual routine. He showered and went to the fridge, which was magically restocked once a week. But on this night there was one major difference. While nuking his food, instead of meditating on his gratitude for having made it through another day, he reflected on how if he’d had any inkling as to what the end result would be, he would’ve knocked Logan Montgomery on his ass weeks ago.

CHAPTER 5

TYSON DROVE TO
the gym the next morning with a new sense of purpose. He owed Logan an apology, and it didn’t matter to him if he got one in return. He took into consideration that being offered use of Logan’s pricey Navigator and finally getting a key to his home might be the best he could hope for. It was enough. He was eager to get back to work. And he’d forgotten how much he liked to drive.

The first thing Tyson noticed as he climbed the stairs was the thumping bass line. When he walked into the gym, he was greeted by the aggressive head-banging sounds of AC/DC. If Logan never said another word about the incident the night before, Tyson still considered them square.

Logan came out of his office looking more relaxed than Tyson had ever seen him. He grinned. “Better?”

“Much,” Tyson replied, not sure if Logan was talking about the music or his fit of temper from the day before. He got right to the heart of the matter. “Logan, about yesterday . . .”

Logan held up his hand. “Don’t. It’s not necessary. You were supposed to have done it long before you actually did, although I wasn’t expecting it to get physical. Nice push, by the way.”

“Thanks. But I don’t get it.” Tyson frowned in confusion.

“At first I needed to see whether or not you were going to go straight back to your bad habits,” Logan explained with another rueful grin. “Then I realized I had a much bigger problem.”

“Now I’m really lost.”

“All the Zen inner peace stuff makes for a great human interest story, but a crummy top-shelf quarterback. You’re not going to be facing a bunch of Buddhists on game day. But it’s essential for your recovery, and it’ll come in handy when you go up against your critics. You’re not the first athlete I’ve seen through a scandal. But it’s up to me to make sure you get your edge back. You’re a big guy. They like to hit you hard, you can’t be afraid of them coming. Recovery is about surrender and stepping back, football is about anything but. Now we just have to strike the balance.”

“You could’ve just told me”—Tyson quirked an eyebrow—“or was it always your plan to use me as an experiment?”

Logan gave a semiapologetic shrug. “I had to learn as much as I could about you in a short time. And while working with you was an offer I couldn’t refuse, I still had six months’ worth of clients to blow off. I didn’t want all your first impressions on me based on hearing one side of phone calls where I basically had to kiss some ass for turning them down. It’s worth it if I manage to keep some of them.”

“You gave up all your other clients to train me?” Tyson asked in amazement.

Logan responded with a knowing smile. “You should know better than anyone, when Clinton Barrow asks you to do something, you do it. And you can’t half-ass it.”

Tyson seriously doubted he and Logan had similar conversations with their mutual boss. Logan didn’t look like he responded well to threats.

Logan continued, “It was interesting to watch you slowly build up some steam. I’m not sure if it was Holly or the music that was really behind it.”

“I would never poach on another guy’s girl. Trust me, it was the music,” Tyson replied dryly. “It’s hard to find the eye of the tiger to Justin Bieber.”

Logan looked thoughtful for a moment. “You’re not the first to complain.”

“I want to know if you actually would’ve forced her to flirt on demand. She seems way too nice to be so shallow.”

Logan threw back his head with a laugh. “Don’t be fooled. She’s one of the toughest girls I’ve ever met. I’m not going to lie, it was not among the best ideas I ever came up with, and she wasn’t overjoyed about being the bait. The longer you held out once I started pushing, the more she let me know it. But she’s another part in your current challenge. Mr. Barrow has emphasized his desire for secrecy. If he had his way, we would be on some desert island and he would fly people in blindfolded. I think that sort of isolation is way too drastic if you’re going to have any hope of functioning in the real world once you’re thrown back into it. We need to come to a meeting of the minds about Holly. My girl is the only girl in town, so to speak. She wants to be able to be your friend and support you, but not if it’s going to send a mixed message.”

“I take it that this isn’t your way of inviting me into a sexy threesome?”

“It’s my way of telling you that you ain’t getting any for a while.”

“My record with women is sketchy at best,” Tyson reminded him. “I don’t mind taking a break.”

They got to work, and it was different. Logan was still supremely focused, but now actively encouraging. In between sets, he began to slowly fill Tyson in on the details of his plan. Within the next week, they’d be adding a massage therapist to the mix and shortly after that, a retired offensive coach and the late-night use of an actual football facility. Clinton Barrow’s plan had been well thought out.

Just before lunch, Logan ducked into his office and came back flipping a football in his hand. He threw it halfway across the room. Tyson caught it and felt a jolt of electricity course through him. Never did holding a football in his hand have so much meaning.

“Have you ever heard of the Marine Corps Rifleman’s Creed?” Logan asked.

Tyson shook his head, feeling the leather secure within his palm. He couldn’t resist mimicking a few forward passes to imaginary receivers across the room as Logan explained.

“The Rifleman’s Creed is about always having your gun with you, becoming one with it. Never letting it leave your side. That’s what you’re going to do, but with that football. Carry it with you as much as you can, play with it, study it. It’s a part of you already. Your talent is the proof.”

“Thanks, Logan,” Tyson said, grateful for the compliment as well as the gift.

“It’s also my hope that it’s going to help you get through trials you haven’t had to face yet. You’re not going to stay hidden forever. Eventually, it’s going to come down to temptations and triggers. And you’re going to be alone when they pop up. There are going to be times when it’s about nothing but the choice to use or keep clean. I’d like to believe that as long as you can touch something that reminds you of where you are you’ll make the right decision. If you can do something to keep you grounded and your mind occupied for the few minutes it will take for the urge to pass, it could make all the difference.”

Logan quit before it turned to a sermon and went to go pick up lunch. Tyson played with the football as he waited. He aligned his fingers with the white stitches to judge the best grip and then he did it again from a different spot. He balanced it by one of its pointed ends on his finger. It was like he was looking at a football for the first time, and he fully appreciated the spirit of the gift as well as the message behind it. It was easy to follow his program to the letter when the only people in his circle were dedicated to his success. Eventually the day would come when he would be casually invited out for a beer. He squeezed the football tight in his large hand. He could do it. He would just never touch another drop.

Logan returned with what he labeled a celebratory meal. Tyson couldn’t remember the last time a cheeseburger and fries tasted so good. By the time they finished, Holly had arrived, looking very relieved that she wasn’t entering into a war zone. Logan took a minute to check his messages while Holly grabbed a bottle of water and got ready for her daily grind.

“I think I owe you one,” Tyson said as she started climbing onto her usual elliptical machine.

“You do?” she asked with a giggle.

“Rumor has it you went to bat for me,” Tyson said.

She glanced over at Logan, still in his office, and laughed. “Not me. I would never critique the way Logan does business. He’s the best there is. I thought you were talking about the food.”

Tyson chucked in response. “So you’re the elf that’s been restocking my fridge?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “I was worried at first when Logan asked for my help. I’m not known for my cooking skills. I’m so glad I didn’t inadvertently poison you.”

“I was pretty much just eating to stay alive at that point. But thanks for doing it. It was delicious.”

“No, a pizza is delicious,” Holly corrected him with a wide smile. “Grilled chicken and brown rice is the stuff athletes are made of. Please don’t tell Logan how much you enjoyed it. I don’t want him getting any ideas.”

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t
that
good,” Tyson told her, adding a wink.

Her face scrunched up. “Please don’t tell him that either. He’ll make me keep doing it until it is.”

“You sound like you know this from experience,” he hedged.

“I’m not only his fan club president, I’m also a client,” Holly told him teasingly before turning on her iPod and starting the moving of her feet. “Why do you think I have these headphones? I love him and all, but hey, every now and then, you need some ‘Enter Sandman.’ ”

WINTER GAVE WAY TO SPRING
and Tyson didn’t miss the symbolism of rebirth. Under Logan’s watchful eye, the threesome embarked on a friendship, and Tyson thrived. With the sun now warming his skin, his confidence began to shine through. At the end of the day, instead of feeling exhausted and on the verge of collapse, he was excited. Thanks to Logan’s knowledge and support—both in the gym and out of it—Tyson was starting to get his game back on. Every movement of his workout was specifically designed, through drilled repetition, to make his body leaner and stronger. As Tyson got stronger and faster, so did Logan’s enthusiasm. It was obvious the man practiced what he preached. They stopped spending all their time in the gym and began taking early morning runs outside, before the sun came up. They would jog to a local high school and race each other up and down the bleachers. They’d sprint from goal post to goal post. Three nights a week, they took a ride down the much more scenic Garden State Parkway to the shore and a sports complex that had a “bubble”: a football-size field contained within a dome. Used mostly for birthday parties and by various soccer, lacrosse, and flag football leagues, it closed at midnight to the general public. Logan and Tyson met the Barrow-appointed coach there at 2:00
A.M.
and they would work on his passing until 4:00 before going home and taking their run. They’d resume their workouts around noon, back at the gym.

“Can’t we get some other guys here for me to throw to, maybe run some plays?” Tyson asked Logan and the coach hopefully, both of whom shook their heads and told him no, Barrow hadn’t authorized it for fear of someone spotting them and blowing their cover.

Still, within a week of that conversation, three men began to show up at the assigned time in the middle of the night for Tyson to throw to. Tyson was introduced to them by Logan as “Palms,” and that was all they ever called him. Little did any of them know, the nickname would stick.

“Coach called Barrow and told him he was missing a golden opportunity to get a head start on his playbook,” was all Logan gave him by way of explanation, adding with a smile, “and you were wearing me out.”