As Jarreau and I walked towards the backdoor of the stadium, both of our cellphones went off.

"Mr. Harrison wants to see us in the team's conference room," Jarreau said looking at his phone.

"I wonder what is going on?"

"Do you think the sale is about to go through? I mean this would be a good time to announce new owners."

"I have no idea, J."

We walked down to the main offices where we saw Dianne Kober, Olan Conners and Peter Nichols, reporters for the local newspaper and television morning shows. There were two security guards standing at the door looking like door ornaments.

"We are here to see Davin Harrison."

"He's expecting you two. Right this way," the Amazonian bald headed beast said as he opened the door.

Jarreau and I walked in and our team's governing board were sitting at the conference table along with Davin sitting at the head. The rest of the team along with coaches and staff were seated or standing around the walls. A few of our teammates dabbed us up as we walked in the huge room. Naomi was standing in the corner with her staff looking nervous.

"Hello guys, come in. Perfect timing," Davin said. He was tall with salt and pepper hair and walked with a slight limp. He was the owner of our team which he had inherited a couple of years ago when his father died. It was a big adjustment for him as he was always a free spirit and being responsible was a hold another story. He was a nice guy but rumor had it that he didn't want the headache of running a team anymore. He was getting older and was ready to retire so he could surf all day with his twenty-something year old girlfriend.

Looking at the men seated at the conference table, a couple of unfamiliar faces were turned in our direction or speaking among themselves. The billionaire's club, as I called the rest of them, was made up of men that were not only rich but loved the game of football. They had taken this team last in conference to a mighty well-oiled machine. For the last three years we had been on top with the amount of money they were shoveling out in different funnels of marketing, social media, television exposure, you name it, they were on top of it.

"Sean and Jarreau you know the board members, Elvin Tarver, Evan McCain, Ian Harrington and Marc Hernandez," Davin said as we shook their hands.

Elvin Tarver, one of the founding members of a computer technology company here in LA called Tarver Industries, was a tall black man with a streak of silver in his hair. He was a widower, as his wife had died of cancer about five years ago. He was older than the other board members but when he sneezed, hundred dollar bills were used to wipe his nose. He was a good guy, made his money through real estate and creating and then selling tech companies.

Evan McCain, the music mogul, and rumored to be in a three-way marriage, with his wife and another man, sat at the end of the table next to his friend Marc Hernandez. P-Diddy had nothing on Evan. He had more artists and multi-platinum and diamond hits than all the other record companies combined. The brother was smooth and women lusted for him with those light colored brown eyes he had, but Cadence, his wife, was always on his mind especially when she wasn't around.

Then there was Ian Harrington, the jokester and pretty boy as I call him. The women would be throwing themselves at him but there was only one woman he had eyes for and that was my homegirl, his wife, Mona. I had met her a few years ago at a hospital ball in New Orleans with Lizzy and she was a spitfire. They were so rich they owned an island.

And then there was Marc Hernandez. This man always looked like he had just stepped off the cover of a GQ magazine. He spoke with an accent, a mixture of English, Portuguese and Spanish. He was deeply in love with his wife, Melanie, a sista in her own right. She helped with one of the team's initiative, helping to build houses for the poor along with Cadence McCain in the area. Marc made his money through making investments, with help from him, I was sure he was the one that kept this team's financial situation afloat while Davin sat at his desk making retirement plans.

"Hello guys, I want you to meet our newest board members, Alexander Scott and Edward Peters." Jarreau and I shook their hands and spoke of other pleasantries.

"Alexander is an attorney and will be handing legal and Edward will be handling management negotiations," Davin said as he stood there proud.

"Gentleman have a seat," Davin said as Natalie his assistant pulled up two empty chairs.

"You are scaring us Davin, what's going on?" I asked.

Davin stood up and opened his jacket. He took a deep breath and looked around the room.

"I would like to say thank you to everyone in this room. To our investors and board, this team and to my wonderful staff I appreciate all the hard work and dedication you have shown to me and this great football team. Our fan base has increased by more than sixty percent, our endorsements have tripled which has created strong economic growth, and thanks to our talented leadership for making this team a top contender. Division Champions the last three years, Super Bowl appearance last year, who would have thought?" The room erupted in cheers.

"And to other board members from saving my ass all those years ago when I had no inkling what the hell I was doing."

People laughed nodding their heads. He continued on joking and making fun of himself and then he got serious.

"I called you all here to tell you I am retiring and I will no longer be handling the day to day operations of the team. Although I am retiring I will still own twenty-five percent of the team."

I could feel Jarreau looking at me and others around the room as I continued to listen. At that moment, the door opened and everyone's attention was fixated on it as people walked through.

Davin stood there with a smile on his face. A tall older gentleman with dark black hair with just a touch of gray in a tailored, navy pinstriped suit walked in followed by another younger one. They stood to the side while a young woman walked in. I didn't recognize her but somehow she was owning the room. The gentlemen looked to be of Italian descent as the woman looked to be mixed or biracial.

"Cowabunga," I heard Jarreau say under his breath with a naughty grin on his face.

The woman had long black hair, a voluptuous body and sophistication was written all over her face. Another Italian gentleman walked in holding her hand as I assumed the man was her husband. They looked only a few years older than myself. I scanned the faces of my coworkers and some were focused on her undeniable beauty, some looked confused and others watched in anticipation. I could see the board members standing, nodding and smiling as they shook hands with the three strangers and they kissed the female on her cheek almost showing reverence to all of them. Once they concluded with Ian Harrington, the royal couple went and stood next to Davin.

"I'm sure you have all heard the rumors. I want to put them to rest. As I said before, I will still own twenty-five percent of the team. The board will now own twenty-five percent and the other fifty percent will be for our majority owner Christina Whittington Moretti. Mr. Carmine Russo and Mrs. Moretti, along with her husband, Marco, also own several other sports teams around the world. Mrs. Moretti is an attorney and has years along with extensive knowledge in sports management and sports entertainment. So please welcome Mrs. Christina Whittington Moretti as your new majority owner, President and CEO."

Everyone clapped still trying to figure out was this a good thing or a bad thing. A woman running the team was really unheard of but if she could do the job, I was on board. The two men along with a "I will kick your ass," looking bodyguard with all muscles pulled out two chairs for Mr. Russo and Mr. Moretti to sit as she stood behind them.

This woman, Christina, spoke eloquently introducing herself in an Italian Grecian accent. Her husband who looked more of a no nonsense kind of guy or was he the handsome mafia prince? She introduced the older man as her grandfather who looked to be the mafia godfather just in a more contemporary way. She continued on and by the time she ended, everyone was clapping and excited. She wasn't coming in to make major changes but was coming to deliver news that we would be joining the international stage and tweaking administrative changes. I looked over at Naomi and she looked a little unsure. She was looking down texting on her phone.

Mrs. Moretti went around the room shaking hands and greeting everyone. Her husband stood behind her and every now and again would touch her on her waist or lower back. She was the nice and social one, while her husband kept an eye on wandering eyes. Her grandfather stood by the board members and chatted.

"Mr. Gipson it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've been watching you play for a few years now and this team is very lucky to have you. I look forward to seeing you play and performing out on the field. I have big plans for you in this organization."

"Thank you Mrs. Moretti."

"No problem. We will speak later." I nodded and she moved on to Jarreau. He was actually tongue twisted for a moment as she gave him a compliment. She quoted his stats and thanked him for his guidance with special teams. He smiled so hard I thought his face would pull apart. I chuckled as she continued to greet our other teammates.

When all was said and done, Jarreau and I left walking up to the main lobby where reporters lined the hall. We could hear Mrs. Moretti giving out statements as we continued to the party area. We were stopped a few times by reporters as they asked about the transition and we were positive about it.

"Man she knows me. That's what I'm talking about. I'm in love, a woman who knows her sports."

"She looks very happily married and homey look like he would skin you alive if you even thought about making a move on her."

"A man can dream."

"Just keep it that way."

"I will have sweet dreams."

"I can't believe they dropped a bomb like this, J."

"Well from what I see, she and her family have plenty of money. While she was talking I googled her. Her family is a powerhouse in Greece and they are Americans. The grandparents are from Italy. Her grandmother, is rumored to be a mafia queen and Carmine back there is a Boss. Your boy, Papa Carmine must fall on the father side because her mama is a sista. Chick got it going on too. Our new CEO owns a soccer team, an international basketball team, baseball, rugby, and a hockey one in Europe."

"American sports are different, J."

"Yeah but did you see the board? When her grandfather walked in the room they were all smilds. I wonder how long they have known about it? Her grandfather and husband look like Italian mafia I say. Money knowing money equal mo' money."

"Damn right, I swear that grandfather of hers looked like he is not the one to be played with."

"I was thinking the same thing Sean. He didn't look like the kind of guy to be fucked with."

He put his phone in his pocket.

"Yeah Papa Carmine and Sam looked like they share something in common."

I looked at J confused. "What?"

"They look like they would chop a dude up and feed the good pieces to their Rottweiler and watch. Have you not seen Italian mafia movies?"

"J, you have way too much time on your hands. You and your conspiracy theories."

"Grandpa Carmine looks ruthless. I bet he would cut off your balls, stuffed them or dipped them in aluminum and sit them in a jar on his vintage desk warning all those that he ain't meant to be messed with."

"And our majority owner?"

"Sista is fine as hell. Thick hips, pretty lips, real commercial Pantene worthy hair and that damn Greek or was it Italian accent that makes you want to drop to your knees and make you want to be her bitch, man don't get me started."

I chuckled. "Well her husband is on that. He's letting you know up front that she is his and if you think you will get close, you will regret it. He knows what he has and he ain't letting it go."

"Well I got charms Sean."

"You kill me when you think you know everyone's situation."

"I could be wrong but if she was mine, I guess I would be the same way. Got damn look to your right," he said picking up a drink.

I looked over from the bar area and there was a young woman sitting there with two Italian beefcakes standing to the side as she chitchatted with two other women.

Jarreau took a sip of his drink but his eyes were fixated on the caramel beauty, with long ringlets and a sweet face. The young woman continued to laugh with her friends I was assuming.

"Damn she's gorgeous man. I've never seen such a beautiful woman in all my life. I wonder if she is single, I mean since I can't have my boss? Where did she come from? She doesn't look like a Californian. She looks mixed with something."

"Why don't you go introduce yourself, instead of drooling on yourself?" I chuckled.

"I'm not drooling," he said looking up at me.

"You look like Cujo."

"I do not!"

"Yes you do. You're sweating, you never sweat." He started wiping his face and hands.

"What's wrong with me? Maybe I'm getting sick," he said still looking at the unidentified woman. He asked the bartender for a glass of water. He drank it down and quickly asked for another.

"You got it bad J."

"Got what? I'm just thirsty that's all."

"Man you haven't taken your eyes off her since you spotted her."

"Not true!"

I shook my head, patting him on the back."

"Go talk to her."

"Is you crazy? She's out of my league. She has this air about her that's keeping me at bay. She so fine I could sop her up wit a biscuit." He shook his head as if trying to erase something.

"Nawl man, I'll stay in my lane on this one." He took a seat trying to look around but his eyes managed to drink the young lady in. He sat there looking pitiful as if he had no one to play with.

I finished my scotch. The room was packed as our teammates came in and we dabbed them up. JC and Peters came up to us.

"Man that was something, we got a new owner," JC said ordering a Bourbon.

"I'm glad. I like Davin but he's been a joke ever since Rodger died. His dad was the best, but Davin didn't care. To be honest I thought he would have sold this team a long time ago," Peters said leaning on the bar.

"True. I wish him well," I chimed in.

Peters nudged me on the arm. He tilted his head towards Jarreau.

"Who is he staring at?"

"The lady in the corner with the blue cocktail dress on." He scanned the crowd.

"Damn she is gorgeous. I wonder who she is?"

"We don't know."

The two ladies that were sitting next to her were a set of twins. I vaguely recognized them. I had seen them before but where?

"Well whoever she is she knows the McCain twins," Peters said. "I think Eva is the more seductive looking one with those eyes like Evan and her sister Lilly, is the finer of the two. Shit, I'll take either one as they both wifey material, but out of respect for Evan, I wouldn't dare. Brother don't play when it comes to his daughters. Now his oldest daughter Kara, she's a model and I heard she killing it in Europe."

"How do you know so much about them?"

"My cousin Andrea is friends with Kara. They went to high school together in Atlanta."

"So you know them?"

"I know of them. When my cousin use to hang with Kara, they would come down to Atlanta to visit their grandparents. I use to take Kara and my cousin to parties and the twins would want to come but they were underage. Now if I'm not mistaken they just graduated from college a couple of weeks ago. Fresh tender meat, but I need my job with benefits, so I will pass."

"Do you think you could make an introduction? At least you know the twins and maybe they can do the intros of their friend. I mean so J can stop drooling and sweating over here. He looks like a lost puppy." Peters looked over and chuckled.

"He's my dude, I'll go help him out."

"Thanks man."

Peters went over to the table and sure enough, the twins hugged him. He sported that playas smile and they were giggling. I saw him lean over and shake the lady's hand. Jarreau expression changed.

"What the hell is he doing?" Jarreau asked me. He looked pissed off and threaten.

"Just give him a minute." I kept my eye on Peters. He had them laughing. The girl in the blue dress sipped on her glass of wine. Peters tilted his head towards us and the ladies looked our way. Eva, the one with the pretty eyes and curly hair waved. I could see them laughing in our direction.

"Please tell me he is not trying to make us seem like fools over here? I swear I will beat his ass!"

I looked over at Peters and he was bringing the ladies over to the bar. Jarreau quickly straighten up and fixed his suit. He wiped his face and tried leaning against the bar. Was he nervous? JC shook his head trying not to bust him out.

"Gentleman, I would like to introduce you to Eva and Lilly McCain and Arianna Moretti."

Arianna looked just like a younger version of her mother as I took in her features. Better yet they could pass for sisters. Her golden brown skin, curls that flowed down her back made her an exceptional creature. Her lips were full, perfectly arched brows and high cheekbones made her stand out. She had a nice figure with tall athletic legs that had a few eyes wandering in our direction.

The look on Jarreau's face was priceless. He was lusting after the new owner's daughter. He politely shook her hand but that spark of hope was gone.

"Ciao a tutti, piacere di conoscerti, hello everyone, pleasure to meet you," she said with a sexy accent. Jarreau looked mesmerized but the disappointment was starting to set in.

"Il piacere è che tutto mio," he said kissing her hand and her eyes lit up.

Peters, JC and myself looked at him as if he had grown another head. When did he mention that he knew Italian? Peters crossed his arms ready for him to explain and JC covered his mouth in shock.

She asked him something and he replied as if he was fluent. Her face beamed with delight. They continued on as if they were the only two in the room.

"Now ain't this some shit?" JC asked still in shock.

Jarreau ordered two drinks. The bartender poured two glasses of wine passing one to her. She said something and he nodded his head. She walked away.

"Don't hate, I spent two summers in Messina, Italy during high school. My church sponsored mission trips there so I learned how to speak Italian. My host family the Rinaldi's and I still keep in touch." He winked walking off to join her.

"You all look to be in shock," Eva said looking at us as we were still floored.

"We are like brothers and I never knew he spoke Italian, I am in shock."

Lilly looked back at her friend and Jarreau. "He's safe for now. I mean Uncle Marco is probably still with Aunt Christina and Papa Carmine."

"You all are related?"

"Not by blood. Our families are really close. Actually our parents are friends with the entire board. We just call them Uncles and Aunties. Our families go way back," Lilly said.

Eva's phone rang. She looked down and answered. "Okay, be there in a minute."