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“You can. It’s just not like you.”
“Thanks for noticing.”
Between you and me, I don’t think she’s thankful I noticed.
She strolls past the security desk and then exits via the revolving door. I follow, wedged behind a panel of glass for a few seconds before we emerge on the street. Not the best day for a walk. It’s cloudy and the sidewalk is damp from a recent soaking.
“I’ll buy you coffee and you can tell me about it.” There’s a Starbucks on our block and we both aim for it. There’s a line forming, so we’d better hurry.
“I’m not telling you anything.”
“Ah-ha! So there is something. What if I throw in a donut? Or one of those cake pop things?” I pace my steps to match her quick stride. “Breakfast sandwich and I’ll make your coffee a Venti and throw in an extra shot. That’s my final offer.”
She takes a big breath that lifts her shoulders before sliding me a derisive, but capitulating glare. “Fine.”
I open the door for her and we step into line. The guy in front of us does a double-take as he recognizes me.
“Holy shit,” he says quietly. “You’re Barrett Fox.”
“How ya doin’?” I ask, inconvenienced because he’s interrupting my attempt to line-chat with Catarina.
“That touchdown at the championship game a few years back when you played for OSU”—he shakes his head reverently—“was amazing. That game replayed on ESPN the other day.”
“Thanks.” It was a great play. I was in the pocket and my current pal, former tight end Dax Vaughn, and I coordinated like we were synchronized swimmers. Touchdown for the win of the championship game. Gorgeous, beautiful play. The best in my college career. A ribbon of pride threads my chest, but snaps when the guy in front of me speaks again.
“That bitch of a ref though. Man. What a tough break. I was stoked that you were reporting on the field. Are they going to let you come back?”
Catarina jerks her attention to me. Like it’s my fault Mr. Doesn’t Know When to STFU is in front of us in line?
I offer a “yeah” to our new best friend and turn my back on him.
“Saw you on Twitter, too. Smoking a cigar in a fancy-ass restaurant.” He lets out a loud laugh that draws the attention of a few patrons and the woman ahead of him in line. I’m not bashful, but Catarina is reaching her limits with this dude. What he says next pushes her over the edge. “Sweet little piece you were with, too. Did you hit that?”
Catarina turns on the guy, fists balled at her sides. “Fucking morons. All of you!”
She directs that to line guy and me simultaneously before she turns and stomps out the door.
“Was that her?” The guy has the decency to wince.
I don’t answer, instead turning to watch as she flips and flops up the sidewalk toward the office as it starts to rain.
“So did you—”
“I’ll buy you whatever you want if you stop talking to me.”
“Fuck you, asshole. I was trying to be conversational.”
“Seriously? You insult my girl, make her leave, and now you’re pissed because I offered to buy your coffee?”
“If she’s your girl why didn’t you chase after her?” The woman in front of the guy in line asks me as we shuffle forward.
“I promised her a coffee and that’s what I’m bringing back to the office.” I notice more eyes are on me, and they’re not on me in the “I love Barrett Fox” way.
“You work in an office?” Some of the hero worship bleeds from my biggest fan’s eyes.
“Haven’t you seen one of the bajillion ads about him dating one of their journalists?” the woman asks him. “They’re going on a series of dates I’m guessing as a publicity stunt for him. I wonder what that poor woman did to earn that punishment.”
Hello? Have they forgotten I’m here?
