The Problem with Players Read Online Brittainy C. Cherry

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
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Now, I had to make sure she realized that. I needed her to see that I wasn’t out to steal her job but to make things better for her. Raymond, of course, didn’t make that easier for me.

After leaving the school, I headed to my brother’s butcher shop in downtown Honey Creek. I came from a big family. I had the most amazing mother and four brothers who meant the world to me. Said brothers are also a pain in my ass. I was certain I was a pain in theirs, too. As the eldest brother, I felt a big responsibility to make sure they always had everything they needed. Especially after our father passed away years ago.

If it weren’t for the near financial ruin my father left us in when he passed, I would’ve probably stayed in Honey Creek instead of signing a baseball contract. Yet our family needed the money—bad—so it seemed like the best option at the time. I didn’t regret my choice. It ended up saving the family farm.

My family ran Honey Farms, one of the best farms in all the Midwest. We had everything you could think of, from goats, chickens, pigs, and cows to almost every vegetable known to humankind. We partnered with some stellar businesses across Illinois. Not long ago, I scored a contract to get all our produce into the restaurant owned by Avery’s brother-in-law, Alex. Alex and I were currently discussing getting some meat on his menu from our butcher shop.

My twin brothers, Evan and Easton, ran the butcher shop. They were two years younger than me and the complete opposite of one another. Not only based on their looks, as they were fraternal, but also on how they lived their lives. In a different realm, I wouldn’t have been shocked if Easton was a leading man in romantic comedy movies, while Evan would’ve been some grumpy surgeon who took everything far too seriously. Instead, the two of them ended up in a butcher shop. A shop that was our father’s dream.

As I walked through the door, Easton was at the register, chatting with a few customers about the oxtails they had in the store’s freezer section.

“You’ll be amazed at how tender these bad boys will get,” Easton told them. “Toss in some of our mom’s pork belly mac and cheese and greens from the fridge section, and boom! You have a whole meal.”

“That’s kind of a high price tag for so little meat on the bones,” the customer remarked with a look of disappointment.

Easton shook his head. “You’re paying for quality with Pierce’s Meat. Hear me out. Let me ring you up for your first order of these, maybe four packs, and if you aren’t satisfied, come on back and I’ll refund you. But you also have to remember my cooking instructions, all right? I promise you, your family will be kissing your feet over these.”

I smirked as I stood back, watching my brother influence those folks into buying over one hundred bucks of oxtails.

Easton’s superpower was selling a product. Lucky for us, he wasn’t lying about the superior quality of the meat. If the Pierce family did one thing well, it was crafting great products. Easton was just a mastermind at making people spend money on said products. That big-ass smirk he always gave to people probably didn’t hurt. Being a friendly face came in handy. People trusted him and for good reason. After Easton sold the products, we’d always get happy returning customers.

As he rang up their items, he thanked them, walked around the counter, shook their hand, and handed them a flyer with the daily specials for the following week.

“I tossed my business card into your bag, too, with my private number on it. Give me a call if you need extra help with those oxtails,” Easton offered with a friendly wink.

After they left, he turned toward me with his big, goofy grin still plastered on his face. “Hey, big brother.” He playfully batted his fist against my chest. “You need to get back in the gym. You’re looking a bit small there, buddy.”

“Still strong enough to kick your ass,” I said, pulling him into a headlock. “Where’s Evan?”

“In the back, chopping up some ribs. You need him?” Easton asked, wiggling his way out of the headlock.

“Nah. It’s all good. I’m here to pick up the sample box to take over to Isla Iberia. We need Alex to add our pork to his menu.”

“Get him the pork belly, too!” Evan hollered from the back room. He came out with a slab of ribs, plopped them down onto brown parchment paper, and wrapped them up. “Give him this and the pork belly. I know he only asked for chops and bacon, but he needs to sample these too. The rest is in the storage locker.”


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