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“Nothing really. Just headed home to my girl and passed by. Looked like you needed me to check on you.”
I laughed and leaned back in my chair. “Ready for Sunday?”
“Deflecting?”
“Probably. But I still want to know.”
“More than ready, Coach. First game of the preseason always feels good. And with Black finally catching the ball like he used to, my arm is anxious to throw his way.”
Ty Black was our number one tight end, but the start to his season had been rocky. I sent him to ballet lessons on a whim during camp and it’d been working. Another feather in my head coaching cap. I had a feeling ballet lessons for professional football players would become a trend soon. They may even call it the “Peyton method.”
I laughed at the thought and turned my attention back to Cam. “Good. Enjoy your day off, I’ll see you at the team hotel Saturday night.”
“You got it, Coach,” Cam smirked and backed out of my office.
Jealousy rose up in me as I thought about him going home to his girlfriend, the comfort of knowing he wasn't alone and had someone waiting for him. Two someones, really, since he and his best friend were with the same girl.
Turning my chair around, I thought about the last time I was with someone. What started as a bad day had ended up being the best night of my fucking life, and probably the reason I was in a three-month dry spell. Nothing seemed like it would compare to the woman I met in New York on my shitty business trip.
Apple Parks.
I knew that wasn't her real name. The fact that we were in the Big Apple near Central Park was my first clue, along with the way she said, “Ummm, Apple?” when I asked what her name was. I didn't mind, though. In fact, I loved playing the anonymity game, hell I started it.
I groaned in the quiet space in my office, thinking back on the way her skin pinked under every touch I gave her. I had never had a woman that responsive nor one that made me feel that hard up for just by looking at her. As I tried to drown out the meetings I had earlier that day with liquor and peanuts, I spotted her in the hotel bar. But instead of my planned twelve shots and straight to bed method, I saw her and decided a night with her would be a better cure.
Her long brown hair, the way her brown eyes matched mine with a glint in them. She was shorter than I was, but I could tell by her toned arms that she was a force. Maybe even a fighter, like me.
One night was all I ever had time to give, and I wanted to give it to her. We shared a night I had obsessed over since.
She had left my room by the time I woke up and it was the first time I was actually disappointed to not see my one-night stand still lingering in the morning. It was just as well, though, because I hopped on my flight home that day and got back to my lonely reality.
But fuck, sometimes I closed my eyes and used my memories of that night to take the edge off. I knew I was about to have one of those nights and as sick and perverse as it sounded, I looked forward to my alone time in the shower with the vision of her lips wrapped around me.
No media, no players, no owners, no other coaches… just me and whatever I had time to think about as the water hit my shoulders.
I swiveled back around to face my desk and turned my computer off. I didn't bother packing anything to take home, I knew I was going to be right back in that office the next morning. Even though the players had off, I didn't, and until the season was over, I probably wouldn't.
As I walked down the dark hallway of the practice offices, my phone rang and I pulled it out to answer as I kept walking.
“Yeah?”
“Hey Levi, it's Art, how are ya?”
I stopped in my tracks, the voice of the NFL’s commissioner, Art Mixon, was deep and stern in my ear. He insisted on first names and friendship, but I also understood that he was the reason I had been in New York three months ago. The owner of the Jets, Richard Elder, and I were summoned to his office for a meeting about etiquette regarding the new female referee we would have in Atlanta.
“Yes sir. I am well, how are you?”
“Good, good. Listen, I just wanted to check in personally, make sure everything was ready for Sunday.”
“Have you talked to Richard about that? It’s all I can do to make sure my team is ready. I haven't thought anymore about the distractions we will be having.”
As shitty as it sounded, making special exceptions for a female referee was a distraction. We already had vultures in Atlanta after me and a story. They were going to be ten times worse as they chased down the chance to either praise or ruin the poor girl that took the job. Was I supposed to be responsible for that too?
“Oh of course I have. He said the facilities were ready and the team had been warned that there would be extra eyes on them this year as the world tuned in to see how Ms. Wright did.”
From what they told me, Ms. Wright was fairly young and a whiz when it came to the game. She passed her interview and training with flying colors and they were excited to see the game expanding. Honestly, from what they said, she sounded like she could handle herself and didn’t need me to worry about anything.
“Look, I get that you’re concerned about how this all plays out. But it is unprofessional for me to look after a referee. If she applied for the job and got hired, then I’m sure she can handle it. If she can't, she shouldn't do this job, end of story. She’s a referee. We are not supposed to be friendly with the officials.”
