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WASHINGTON, D.C.— "YOU'RE AWFULLY OVERDRESSED FOR A SOCCER COACH."
Aaron Hotchner turned around, nearly knocking into the stranger that stood behind him. She was tall, slender, with thick eyebrows and a goofy smile plastered across her face, like she was extremely proud of the joke that she had made. He was a bit taken back as she stuck her hand out for him to shake, "Lyla Kerrigan. We just moved here, I'm Stevie's mom."
"Aaron Hotchner. Nice to meet you." He gave her a curt nod as he shook her hand. He didn't mean for it to happen, but his eyes immediately darted over to her ring finger. No wedding band. He cleared his throat, "So, which one is Stevie? I'm not well acquainted with Jack's classmates."
"She's...oh, for fuck's sake." Lyla grumbled and let out a sigh as she glanced over at the school yard, where it appeared Stevie was trying to get another kid to eat a leaf, "The one misbehaving. Stevie! You can't eat the leaves off of trees! I am so sorry— Stephanie James Adley!"
To say Lyla was frantic was an understatement. Stevie wasn't necessarily a troublemaker— in fact, she was quite a good kid. However, Lyla rarely had to scold her with her full name, but since they had settled in D.C., she had done it six times— more than she ever had in her or Stevie's life. She assumed Stevie had started to act out because of the big change, and had no idea what to do from there.
She also felt frantic, or in her words, completely out of her mind, for feeling nervous talking to the man that stood before her. Lyla hadn't looked at another man like this in the last ten years— she never let herself do it, anyway. But god, the man in front of her was attractive. He had a chiseled face, strong jaw, and hair that sort of fell in his face, but not really. He couldn't be more different than her ex-husband, who was covered in tattoos and only ever wore skinny jeans. This man in front of her was clean cut. He was hot.
"Well, lucky for you, that's my son she's trying to corrupt, and I pray that I've taught him better." Aaron let out a laugh and shook his head, hoping it would calm her nerves, "What can I do for you, Mrs...Kerrigan?"
"Please. Call me Lyla-" She raised a hand in protest as he attempted to speak, "Please."
"Lyla." He nodded, "What can I do for you?"
"You see, I tried talking to the school, and they told me girls soccer doesn't start until the spring." Lyla shot him an apologetic smile, "Stevie told me you were the guy to talk to to see if I could sweet talk my way into getting her a spot on the boy's team."
"She said that?"
"Well, what she actually said was to ask the man who looks like he works at a business, because he's Jack's dad, and Jack's dad is the coach." She explained with a small smile on her face, gesturing to his all-black suit, "If I could just make a case for my daughter— and I mean this in the best way possible, my daughter is kick ass at soccer. Unless, at this age here, they don't compete, because in that case, she plays fair, like, super fair."
