However, the condescending smirk on his father’s face pulled the words out before he could stop them. “I’m opening a sports bar.”
A beat of silence, followed by loud guffaws as Joe burst into laughter. “Get serious.”
“I am serious,” Blake said through gritted teeth.
“You know nothing about running a business. A sports bar? C’mon. There are a million sports bars out there. Take it from someone who’s been around a lot longer than you have, son: stick to what you’re good at. You’re good at football. That’s it.”
Anger ate away at Blake’s stomach. “I’m not going back to football. An NFL career is your dream, not mine.”
“Yeah? You sure as hell didn’t turn down those Heismans. You have talent and prospects other boys your age would kill for, and you’re throwing it all away!” Joe pounded the table. “Do you know how much money you can make in the NFL? Think of the sponsorships. The name recognition. If you’re smart, you can take that to the bank even after you retire.”
“It’s not about the money!” Blake yelled.
“It’s not until you’re jobless and broke!” Joe yelled back. “If you think your mother and I will bankroll your pipe dream, think again!”
“I don’t need you to bankroll me. I’ll do it myself!”
“Ha, I’d like to see that happen.”
“It will happen, and it’ll be no thanks to you.” Blake hung up without another word. Pressing the “end call” button wasn’t as satisfying as slamming down a phone, but it did the trick.
His heart zipped through his chest like a racecar driver intent on winning the Indy 100.
Screw his father. Blake was going to own the most successful fucking sports bar in the world, and when he did, he was going to rub it in Joe Ryan’s face.
In the meantime, he needed to calm down before he punched a hole in the wall. Nothing ruined his day like a conversation with his father.
Once the red haze dissipated from his vision, Blake texted Farrah. She was the only person who could make him feel better.
Are you busy? I miss you.
She responded not a minute later. Be right there.
Blake’s heart rate slowed. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind. He had a lot of shit to do if he wanted his business venture to be a success.
First on the list: figure out where he wanted to open the bar.
He heard a knock.
“I come bearing gifts,” Farrah said when Blake opened the door. She unwrapped a paper towel to reveal a pile of Sammy’s legendary chocolate chip cookies. “I passed by the kitchen and nabbed a few before Luke got to them. I swear he’s here more since he moved into his homestay.” She shook her head. “How was your call with your mom?”
Blake popped a cookie in his mouth. “Fine. Until it turned into a call with my dad.”
Farrah winced. “Not good?”
“That’s one way to put it. I told him about the sports bar idea. He thinks it’s dumb.”
She walked to his desk and set the cookies down. She turned and said, in the calmest voice possible, “Fuck what he thinks.”
Blake had to pick his jaw up from the floor. He’d never heard Farrah be so blunt.
“If he can’t see your potential, that’s his problem. Don’t let his limitations run your life. You can do this.” Farrah cupped his face in her hands. “I know you can.”
His heart ached. The person he saw reflected in her eyes was the person he always wanted to be: brave, smart, passionate. Someone who chased his dreams and believed in himself. Someone worthy of love and respect.
“What would I do without you?”
“Oh, you’d probably be checking yourself out in the mirror and calculating how many pushups you need to maintain your physique.”