First and Ten

Love by the Yard

Book One

by Michel Prince

Published by JK Publishing, Inc.

© Copyright September 2016 Michel Prince

Rights & Permissions © September 2016 JK
Publishing, Inc.

Cover, art, and logo © Copyright September
2016 by JK Publishing, Inc.

All rights reserved.

ISBN #978-1-370-90866-0

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There are so many thanks that I need to put
out there, but I’m only going to have time and space for a few.

First, Lanna Farrell, thank you for pushing
me to submit to JK and finding my series a home. Sometimes the
easiest thing to do is put a book aside for a thousand other
projects. Finishing and contracting this book has taken me back to
the game I’ve always loved to watch.

Thank you to M. G. for the insider look, I
know my readers will love feeling as if they really are with an NFL
team.

A shout out to RP, my Chi-Town expert that
helped me navigate the windy city.

Finally, my biggest thanks to my fans and
family who support and cheer me on. I know this series will find a
special place in your heart.

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Books by Michel Prince

About the Author

“With the fourteenth pick, the Grizzlies take
Beaumont Guthry from the University of Mississippi,” the
commissioner of the National Football League announced.

The six-four blond good ole boy cheesed his
way to the podium after accepting a hug from his mother and a firm
handshake from his father. Tears filled his parents’ eyes and
Jerome Speed, or Rome to his friends and fans, sank further into
the black leather chair.

It’s not that Jerome didn’t want the
Grizzlies to get a new quarterback. They needed one for rebuilding
purposes. Mattie’s arm wasn’t what it had been, but for Rome it
meant his coaches were looking to build a stronger passing game.
Maybe they’d lost faith in his ability to run through defenses. In
the last year his yards per carry had dropped to three point five,
but he was still highly productive.

“
Speed,” his college coached barked at
him. “What is three times four?”

“
Twelve, coach.”

“
No, goddamn it. If by age twenty you
can’t figure out it’s a fucking first down, you need to take off
that damn uniform. Can you give me three damn yards?”

“
Yes, sir.”

“Mr. Speed, I have the suits set up in the
dressing room.” Ramona smiled in her tight black dress, standing
five-nine, even though four of those inches came from heels. Her
hair was smooth, pulled back into a tight bun which seemed to help
tighten her face a bit. Or maybe that was just how she looked,
tight and angular. “Would you like me to pull some shoes?”

“Yes,” Jerome replied, pushing up from the
chair and walking into the dressing room.

Suits with two and three buttons hung like
art work on the six hooks. Using the shoppers service was a must
according to Randall Corbin, his manager.

Public perception demanded the top running
back in the league for the past five years dress well. The ESPYS
were on par with the Grammys and Golden Globes, but today was to
set up his wardrobe for the next season. Players getting on and off
the team bus or plane, walking through the tunnel drew in the
female fans. At least the ones who didn’t already love the sport.
He’d heard such creatures existed. Never seen one. They were like
unicorns or mermaids. The only females he met were succubi or
sirens. Luring him into a sense of calm before sucking the life and
a piece of his contract from him.

With a plaid black and gray suit on he walked
to the three-way mirror to stand on the podium. Ramona would be by
soon with accessories that he’d have to remember to keep all
together.

A woman walked in and sat in the same chair
he’d occupied. Not acknowledging him, she stayed focused on her
phone flipping screens with a single finger. Unpolished nail…or did
it have a pale pink color to it, just not long claws like he saw on
most women.

“Mr. Speed,” Ramona cooed and he swore she
cut her eyes at the stranger. “I have a great mix of ties that will
go perfect with that.”

A tray of ties arrived and he examined them,
unsure which went with the black suit with a charcoal plaid
pattern. Was he supposed to pick a bowtie or a straight one? Ramona
picked a bright orange bowtie with yellow polka dots. The woman in
the chair snorted.

“What’s wrong with it?” he asked, placing his
hand on Ramona’s to stop her from putting it on.

“Did you ever watch WGN in the morning as a
kid?”

“No, I’m not originally from Chicago.”

“Okay.” She went back to her phone and Ramona
tied the bowtie to his neck. The fit was good considering the
thickness of his neck.

That’s why he shopped in places like this.
They carried the sizes men of his girth needed. Although he wasn’t
a behemoth like the linemen, he had broad shoulders and the thick
muscular structure needed to plow past defensive linemen.

Checking his reflection in the mirror, he
sized up the tie he could take or leave. Contrary to popular
belief, he wasn’t a clothes horse. His agent pushed the need for
looking a certain way. He preferred a good fitting pair of jeans
and a polo.

Right when he was about to say he’d take the
whole outfit, socks and all, the woman’s words returned to him.

“What was on WGN in the morning?”

“It might still be on,” she sighed. “I used
to watch it before school.”

“You keeping it a secret only Chi-towners can
know about?”

“Bozo the Clown. You could win prizes.” She
stood and shook her head at him. “I swore I could reach the last
bucket in the toss game, but my dad wouldn’t let me even send a
letter asking for tickets to the show.”

“You say I look like a clown?”

“If the tie fits.”

Jerome tugged at the tie only to have Ramona
place her hand over his.

“It’s amazing. One of the top designers and a
hundred percent silk.”

“Sixty or seventy dollars?” the woman
asked.

Ramona didn’t answer.

“Eighty-five?” the woman asked with an arched
eyebrow as she circled Jerome. “Let’s see. We have a polka dot tie,
with a plaid suit and striped kerchief.”

Jerome cut his eyes down to see the orange
and creamsicle striped kerchief.

“Please say you gave him the argyle socks
too,” she giggled with her hands together in prayer. “Because then
there’s only like three other pattern styles in the world and he
can have them all.”

Curling his toes in the shoes Ramona had
picked out, Jerome now saw the idiocy of this outfit. He’d been
only looking at the individual items not how they went together,
but he was paying for her to dress him. Not toss the six most
expensive items together.

The woman pushed Ramona to the side with a
swim move he usually feared. Untying the tie, she slipped it back
in the tray and stood back to examine him.

“My name is Danika Albright and I’m here to
save you from Ramona’s quotas.”

She pulled a simple gray tie off the tray
along with a kerchief. “Now this says class although a three button
jacket would hold your body nicer. Ramona, love, will you grab this
sweet man the Hugo Boss fall charcoal please.”