That goddamned nickname. Luke said something unflattering about Miller’s parentage.

“Touchy, aren’t we?” Miller taunted. “Never mind. I’ll go back to trying to cajole Julian Best to come out and shoot a one-liner at his nemesis.”

Sympathy pinged in Luke’s rib cage. “It’ll happen, Gavin. My bruises are healing. So will your muse.”

“I’m a commercial hack. We don’t believe in muses. We just sit down at the computer and crank out books.”

“And I’m just a dumb jock.” Luke recognized the edge of anger in Miller’s voice at the criticism that was leveled at him. Probably by those who envied his success. “Maybe you just need a vacation. Change up the scenery.”

“Tried it. Tried working on a different book. Tried writing nonfiction. It was all garbage, but it doesn’t matter anyway. My agent says it has to be Julian Best.”

“What about your love life? You found Ms. Right yet?”

“I don’t have time. I need to stare at my blank computer screen for ten hours a day. However, your personal trainer is quite lovely.”

“You’re wasting your time there.”

“Ah, I had a feeling she might play for the other side. At the gala, she resisted my potent animal magnetism without any difficulty.”

Doug stuck his head in the empty office where Luke sat with his feet propped up on the desk. When he saw Luke was on the phone, he signaled that he would wait outside.

“Miller, I have to get back to warming the bench. I wish you luck, man.”

“I don’t need luck. I need a goddamned miracle.”

Luke hung up and swung his feet down from the desk. “Doug, you want something?”

His assistant popped through the door. “Coach wants you in his office. Said he couldn’t get through on your cell phone.”

“Any idea what’s so urgent?”

Doug shook his head. “I’m just the messenger boy.”

“So I won’t shoot you.” When Doug looked baffled, Luke felt old. He walked out the door with Doug trailing him. “Would you read my memoirs?”

“Heck, yeah! Are you working on them?”

“No. Why would you want to read them? You know me, in the here and now.”

“No offense, Boss Ice, but you don’t give away much. I’d like to get a glimpse inside your brain.”

“Huh. There’s nothing special in there.” Luke tapped his temple. “It’s just football.”

“It’s football legend. You’re a superhero to a lot of people.” Doug grinned. “Including me.”

“You’ve seen me in my jockstrap. There’s nothing heroic about that.”

“In fact, I’ve been offered a lot of money to take a picture of you in your jockstrap,” Doug said.

“You’re a good guy, Weiss. Maybe I’ll give you another raise in six months.”

“I’ll put it on your calendar.” Doug peeled off as they approached Junius Farrell’s door.

“Archer, is your cell phone busted?” Junius sat behind his giant desk. “Shut the door, will you?”

Luke swung the door closed and sauntered to one of the oversize chairs in front of the desk to sit down. “No, I was using it.”

“You haven’t got a wife, so who the hell were you talking to for so long?”

“What did you want to see me about?” He crossed his ankle over his knee and waited. Junius was unhappy about something.

“Pitch.” The coach looked around as though checking for eavesdroppers. “You sure the door’s closed?”

“Want me to lock it?”

“No.” Junius drummed his fingers on the desktop. “He’s not ready. I want you to work with him today and tomorrow.”

Luke didn’t like the sound of this. “Work with him on what?”

“His mental focus. I think he’s got the heebie-jeebies about his first game in the NFL. I need you to talk him through those.”

For the first time in years, Luke fought an internal battle between his obligation to his job and his desire to please himself. Usually, his interests aligned without conflict, but he’d planned to leave early to get set up for Miranda’s visit to his place. And there was Saturday’s expedition. Babysitting the rookie quarterback could put a kink in all those plans. “I’ll go talk to him now.”

“Don’t tell him I sent you. He’ll think I’ve lost confidence in him.”

Luke rose from his chair. “If you want me to play on Sunday, I’m ready.”

“Stan doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

Luke swallowed the insults he was about to heap on his longtime trainer. “Stan is being conservative. There’s no pain when I move.”

“Sit down, Luke.”

Luke sat, but he didn’t relax. Junius’s expression was ominous.

“Some people say you’re the greatest quarterback ever, and I’m not going to argue with them,” the coach said. “You’re the face of the New York Empire. When you play, the stadium sells out, no matter where in the country—or the world—it is.”

It was Anoint Luke Archer Day and no one had told him. But he didn’t like his coach’s tone. “Good to know you feel that way.”

“But you’re not getting any younger.”

There it was. The bullet to the heart. Luke felt the tearing impact but gave Junius a nonchalant shrug. “None of us are.”