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Eric laughed, shaking his head. "She's bitter to the end."
"You can say that again."
Eric was still chuckling. He hated Jessica and seemed positively giddy that she'd packed up and left. "It's gonna be okay, I promise. We'll get this all straightened out."
He handed me a coffee, and I hated to admit it, but it tasted great. Even better than beer.
Eric eyed me over his mug. "Why're you so upset? You haven't even liked her for the past year and a half."
I scrubbed my hands over my face. "I'm not upset about Jess."
"Then why're you such a wreck? What's with the sweatpants and the beer?"
"Football," I said and shuffled back out toward the couch. "I'm upset about football."
"Ah. Football. I should have known." Eric sat down next to me, moving some empty food cartons so he could put his feet up on the coffee table. "Wes handled the press conference well. He never gives anything away. Christ, those reporters must hate him."
I laughed. "They'd hate him if he wasn't so good at his job. He's going to try to keep the fight quiet for as long as possible. But Pax's coming back to practice soon. Someone's going to get a picture of his mangled face and put it all together. Unless Jessica lays it all out for them first." I was surprised she hadn't released a statement announcing our split and that I'd beaten up her new lover. That was exactly the sort of drama she loved.
"I talked to Mickey…" Eric's voice trailed off.
I winced. "Did he breach his attorney-client privilege again?"
My friend nodded.
"So you know that Jessica wants to get married to Pax? Soon?"
He nodded again. "You're not upset about that?"
"Nah." I was pretty sure those two deserved each other.
Eric watched my face. "But…you're upset about what it's going to do to the team?"
I could see the sympathy in Eric's eyes. He knew me too well. "Yes."
"Okay," Eric said. "You're suspended for another full week after this, right? And there's no word as to whether the Warriors are going to cut Pax loose?"
"Yes," I mumbled. "To both."
"You're going to have to deal with him sooner rather than later."
I groaned. "I thought you were here to cheer me up."
Eric sighed. "There's also a crap-ton of reporters outside your house, in case you didn't notice."
"That's what the pizza guy said." I curled up into a ball, wishing that my coffee would magically transform into a beer and that none of this had ever happened. To me.
Suspended. Humiliated in front of my teammates.
"What're you worried about, Chase?" Eric asked.
I squinted at him. "That might be the stupidest fucking question ever."
He crossed his legs, his elegant suit out of place amidst the man-squalor. "It's not a stupid question. I'm your agent, remember? Which means you pay me a lot of money to think of things you might not. To look out for you and your best interests. To consider every angle. Remember when I told you not to marry Jessica?"
"Yep. I remember. Everyone seems to be reminding me these days."
Eric sighed. "The point is you should have listened to me then. So please listen to me now. Let's go through the steps."
