“She was just working the crowd, that’s all. It’s part of her job, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just saying that it seemed to me there was a little something there, that’s all.”
“Maybe for him,” I pressed.
“Maybe,” he answered noncommittally and let it go.
We fell into content silence, quiet and weary from the long night, dreading the morning that would inevitably come too soon. At least I’d get to sleep in a little, which reminded me to set the coffee for him so he’d still have it when he woke.
He unlocked the door, held it open for me, locked it safely behind me. We moved through the apartment in automatic motions — first changing, then into the bathroom to brush our teeth, side by side, taking turns at the sink. I set up the coffee for the next morning as he turned off the lights. And we parted ways outside my door with smiles and promises to see each other in the morning.
But once my door was closed and I lay in bed, my thoughts teetered between plotting how to get Tyler and Adrienne together, all while fighting the urge to keep them apart, which was silly. Because they could be perfect for each other. And Tyler … he deserved someone like her.
GATEKEEPER MEETS KEYMASTER
Tyler
THE NEXT MORNING WAS RUSHED after my snooze a few too many times. I wondered as I poured the coffee Cam set up for me whether or not I was getting too old to try to work a full day on only five hours of sleep, which I thought was a really old thing to wonder.
I hurried to work in a haze, and when I got there, Cathy already had a stack of messages for me to sort through, including calling Jack. None of the work I had looked easy — nearly all of them were going to be demanding answers I didn’t have.
But God bless Cathy. She kept my coffee fresh and full all day, managed the flood of calls and emails, kept the deluge just outside my office door.
Jack had gotten Pharaoh out of jail, and he’d issued a statement looking sorry and penitent. He’d received a six-game suspension with no pay and said during that time, he’d be going to rehab for his drinking. He said it was a mistake, one he’d learned from, one that had humbled him.
I, for one, knew that was utter bullshit. Pharaoh was out for himself first and foremost — he’d proven time and time again, on the field and off, that he didn’t really care. But this move was probably going to save him his career, and for that, I was grateful he’d rolled over. I just hoped he calmed down for good. Knowing Jack, he’d sat the kid down and told him exactly how it was. That we would terminate his contract if he didn’t get it together. That if he didn’t leave the aggression on the field, he was going to send his career down the drain. It was up to him to keep himself in check.
And today, it was up to me to save his sponsorships.
It was another long day, full of tense phone calls and emails, messages with Jack, organizing everything to sustain the weekend. By the end of it all, I was exhausted and ready for a drink, finding comfort in the knowledge that I’d be seeing Cam, looking forward to telling her about how the day had been. I was packing up when Cathy buzzed me.
“I’ve got a call from Adrienne Christie on line one.”
“Thanks, Cathy.” I picked up the phone and hit the line, wondering if it was a business or personal call. “Good afternoon, Ms. Christie.”
“Same to you, Mr. Knight,” she said, the all-business Adrienne back in action, though she sounded softer than yesterday. “I just wanted to give you a quick call to touch base about Pharaoh. I saw the press release today. So far, the news cycle has been receptive to his announcement about rehab, so congratulations on that. If you’d asked me twenty-four hours ago if Jack could have turned this around, I probably would have laughed.”
“I probably would have too,” I said with a smile and leaned back in my seat.
“Well, I’m glad the heat’s been turned down a little, even though it’s still the top discussion point on every sports media outlet. At least now they’re all talking about how heartfelt he is and wishing him luck in rehab instead of his general misbehavior in the NFL.”
“Anything to detract from that,” I joked.
She chuckled. “Jack did well, and so did you. Barring any unforeseen circumstance, his sponsorship should be safe.”
“That’s a relief. Thank you, Adrienne.”
“You’re welcome.” She paused for a second. “Listen, Tyler — I know it’s unprofessional to ask you this, but I was going to meet some friends for happy hour tonight and wanted to know if you were free.”
I blinked, surprised. But before I even considered accepting, a response left my mouth. “Thanks for the invitation, but I’m meeting Cam at Wasted Words tonight. Raincheck?”
“Yeah, of course,” she said, though she didn’t fully cover her disappointment. “Sure. I’m sorry to put you on the spot like that.”
“You didn’t,” I lied, turning the conversation back to work. “I’ll give you a call on Monday and we can see how the weekend treated Pharaoh.”
“Absolutely. And maybe I can cash that raincheck in soon.”
“Just say the word.”
“All right.” I could hear her smiling. “Thanks, Tyler.”
“Have a great weekend, Adrienne.”
I hung the phone on the cradle and stared at it.
I’d just been asked out by a beautiful, successful woman who I got along well with, someone whose company I enjoyed, and I couldn’t figure out why I’d opted to go to a book bar to hang out with my roommate.