The Quarterback's Queen

Chapter Two

Wyatt Gabler was initially disappointed by his draft selection. Of course, he knew he'd be a number one pick. That was never in doubt. But he'd hoped to play in the spotlight, in a market with lots of media exposure. New York, Dallas, Boston, LA...

Instead, he was picked by a small-market team that seemed to be cursed by the football gods. The Saints consistently produced talented teams, yet would always collapse when it really mattered. It would be difficult to win Super Bowls with them. Maybe he'd play in New Orleans for a few seasons and then get traded elsewhere.

But then, he'd always wanted to spend his whole career with one team.

Well, he would make that decision later. For now, New Orleans would do. At least it wasn't Chicago or Detroit. Wyatt preferred not to spend his Sundays battling hypothermia.

And at least he knew that he'd have a good time in New Orleans. They had good food, bars on every corner, and a worldwide reputation for being a great party town. Plus, Wyatt was glad to have his best friend- and favorite wide receiver- around to keep him company. Oliver was currently helping him move into the three-story mansion that he'd purchased in one of New Orleans' wealthiest downtown neighborhoods.

"Looks good," Wyatt remarked, eyeing his 'man cave' with satisfaction. This particular room was his favorite. It featured theater seating, a giant flatscreen TV, a bar, pool table, and a few Fatheads of the quarterback during his college years. The rest of the house was no less impressive. He had a state-of-the-art training room, a chef's kitchen (not that he cooked), three spacious guest bedrooms (each with their own luxurious bathroom), a master suite that belonged on HGTV, and a backyard that was ideal for parties.

Oliver gave his friend an amused look. "I still don't see why in the world you needed all this," he commented.

Wyatt chuckled. "Dude, I'm an NFL quarterback. People expect nothing less of me. Besides, it'll take a big house when all of our teammates come over to hang out."

"You haven't even met any of our teammates yet," Oliver pointed out. "And I don't know if you've noticed, but there are a lot of people around here that are nervous about you. You got a reputation, man. Everybody already thinks you've got a big ego, that you don't take things seriously, that you just want to party all the time...and you're not really helping your case here. You should've just rented an apartment like I did."

"Your apartment is the size of a closet," Wyatt countered, to which Oliver shrugged.

"Maybe. But I'm only one person, and I don't have a lot of unnecessary stuff. Plus, you're the one getting the huge contract. I was basically drafted just to keep your big-headed self out of trouble."

Wyatt didn't think he got into questionable situations that often, but he would concede a few occasions where Oliver stopped him from crossing a line. The two athletes met during their freshman year of college. Roommates that turned into unlikely best friends. Unlikely, because they came from very different worlds. Wyatt was the only child of a wealthy Tennessee politician and a former British actress. Oliver was raised by his grandmother in the poverty-stricken Mississippi Delta. The two were brought together by a shared love of football, and they came to rely on each other...on and off the field. Oliver was one of the few 'friends' who cared about Wyatt's well-being, not just using him as a tool to raise his own social status. Wyatt could always count on Oliver to be honest with him, even if the quarterback wasn't predisposed to taking anyone's advice. And although Wyatt normally gave little effort to his relationships, Oliver was the one person he would go out on a limb for. They were like brothers.

"You know, you didn't have to rent an apartment," Wyatt remarked. "You could've just moved in with me. It would be like our college days all over again, except without all the homework and tests to study for."