Diesel: A Sports Romance

by Lisa Lang Blakeney

  “Let’s just suppose for a second that I had been pregnant. What would we have done?”

  “We would have raised our baby together.”

  “With what money?”

  “With the money I would have received once I’d been drafted.”

  “So you would have entered the draft early.”

  “Yes!”

  I rub my face with my hands with frustration.

  “That wasn’t your plan.”

  “Plans change.”

  “Seems like your plans always change when it comes to me.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “Did you even want to go to Union, Mason?”

  “Of course.”

  “Was it your first choice?”

  He pauses before he answers. Searching my face for the meaning behind my question.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Fine, no, it wasn’t my first choice.”

  “Why did you choose to go?”

  “It was free.”

  “Was there any other reason?”

  “Because you were going there.”

  “I didn’t know that you got into Stanford. I didn’t know that you had a free ride to Stanford to play ball.”

  “I wasn’t going all the way to California, Olivia. Stanford was never a consideration.”

  “It would have been the best option.”

  “I took us to the championships last year, and I’m taking us this year. I think this was a great option. There are five pro teams interested in me. Our future is set.”

  “What if I don’t get a job where you end up signing?”

  “You’ll find one. There are publicity jobs everywhere. I could probably get you one with whatever team I sign with once I’m in there.”

  “What if that’s not what I want to do.”

  “What?”

  “My life cannot constantly revolve around yours. I have to make my own way and so do you. I don’t want you making any more decisions based on what’s going on with me. I feel like a burden, Mason. Like an anchor weighing you down. I know you’re going to say I’m crazy, but that’s how I feel. You help me with everything, and I give you nothing.”

  Mason wraps his hand around my neck and pulls me into him.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? You give me everything. You are my greatest cheerleader, my best friend, my confidant. You are not an anchor, you are my lifesaver.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve made my decision.”

  “What decision?”

  “I wish you the best wherever you end up, but I’m not going to follow you.”

  Mason takes a deep breath to keep from yelling. I can tell he is fed up with this conversation and doesn’t like at all where it’s headed.

  “So you want to try the long distance thing for a while.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “Then I need you to be crystal fucking clear. What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that my head is all messed up. That maybe we should take a break.”

  “A break.”

  “Yes.”

  “Is this about last night? I told you I didn’t touch Ginger. We danced, but that was it, and I’m sorry that I even did that, but you know me. You know there is no one in this world for me but you. It’s always been you. It will always be you.”

  My heart is breaking.

  This is not at all what I want, but it’s what we both need, and for once I have to be the strong one. For once, I need to make the sacrifice.

  “I want to break up.”

  He looks like he’s struggling between the thought of strangling me or kissing me.

  “None of this shit means anything if you don’t want to be around to share it with me.”

  “I hope that’s not true, because you are weeks away from winning the national championship.”

  “Is this your final decision?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you are making a big fucking mistake.”

  He slams the door when he leaves my room, abruptly apologizes to my mother, and then jumps in his SUV and skids away.

  “What happened?” My mother asks as she dabs the tears streaming down my face with a tissue.

  “I think I finally freed the anchor.”

  FOURTH QUARTER

  27

  Olivia

  “Are you finished with your bagel?”

  My supervisor, Paula, peeps her head into my cubicle workspace. Her reading glasses perched on her head, pushing her curly gray bob away from her face, and there’s a look of anxiety spread across her forehead.

  “Totally.”

  I push away the last few bites of my bagel. I’m not really finished with my lightly toasted, everything bagel, but it’s not like I could tell her to come back in fifteen minutes. She’s my boss.

  “Then can I see you in my office?”

  “Of course, I’ll be right in.”

  I grab my steaming hot, jumbo mug of English Breakfast tea like it’s a life preserver and head into Paula’s office.

  “Have a seat,” she says while simultaneously clearing her throat. It seems to be one of her small tics that appears when she’s uncomfortable. “I wanted to talk to you briefly about something before we head into the meeting.”

  Paula shuts her door before she sits back down which is highly unusual. I’ve only worked here a few brief months, but I already know that she keeps her office door open so that she can eavesdrop on everyone’s phone calls.

  She isn’t a mean boss or anything, but she’s old school, and doesn’t believe in people taking personal calls during work hours. It’s the quickest way to get on her bad side, although I haven’t quite figured out why that is, considering that she has four kids and a husband herself. She has the fullest personal life out of everyone in this office. She should know that sometimes stuff happens and you have to make a personal call.

  I take a seat across from her desk, cross my legs, and take a delicate sip of my tea to feign confidence. The truth is that I’m shaking in my boots. This job means everything to me, and not just because of a paycheck, but because I love what I do.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, cutting right to the chase.

  “As you know two of our high-profile players are on suspension for substance abuse.”

  “Collins and Matthews.”

  “This is the second time for Collins. It’s a shame really, but anyway, the front office is going to be looking for a big plan from us to clean up the club’s image.”

  “I think we should be able to come up with something. Community service blitz maybe?”

  “We’ll hammer out the details later, but I’m giving you a heads-up for another reason. I think the owner wants us to focus our energies on the new guy—Bridgewater. You went to college with him, right?”

  It’s only been two weeks since I discovered that he’s been traded to the Nighthawks, but I knew his name was bound to come up sooner or later. Today is the day, and I feel even worse than I thought I would to hear his name.

  “I did, yes.”

  “I’ve tried reaching out to him already, but he hasn’t responded. Some players are skittish about doing PR tours, but I thought since he’s looking for a fresh start that he’d be more than willing to do a few PR events for us. It would be great if he did. He’s so easy on the eyes isn’t he?”

  “Yep.”

  I take another sip of my tea to make sure that I can actually still swallow. My throat is tightening up just thinking about the possibility of working with Mason, but I’ve endured five separate interviews to get this job and I’m not going to risk losing it just because of an old flame.

  Paula begins speaking in a much lower voice as if she’s telling me a very guarded secret.

  “Now, you know I had the final say on getting you hired, Olivia. That’s why I pulled you in here today to tell you ahead of the meeting. If you’ve got any tricks up your sleeve, any rabbits you c
an pull out of a hat, then now is the time. This ball club seems to only be in the news when bad things happen, and that looks poorly on our department’s performance. You understand what I’m saying?”

  I hear her loud and clear. Paula’s worked her ass off to become the head of our publicity department. A first for a woman in the league. We have to work harder and be better than the other PR departments that are run by men, or the powers that be will seek to replace us and they won’t think twice about it.

  “I totally understand.”

  What Paula doesn’t know is that I was in love with this man for most of my life and that he probably hates me. Why do I think that? Because I’ve reached out to him a couple of times but haven’t heard one word back from him in five years, and my mother still lives next door to his parents in Bear Springs.

  I’m not sure how it’s possible that we’ve stayed off of each other’s radars, and out of each other’s way, but we have. Regardless—I’m going to have to figure out a way to work with him, because like it or not, I need this to succeed.

  “All right then, let’s get to it.”

  I take a huge gulp of my tea as if it contains some sort of miraculous power source and follow behind my mentor into the biggest meeting of my life.

  28

  Olivia

  Paula ends up presenting the entire room with a thorough overview of a six-month publicity plan that should offset the bad coverage we’ve been getting lately. It’s a solid plan involving public television spots, traditional sports news interviews, and a pitch to HBO to be the focus of their next reality sports documentary television series, Hard Knocks. But I can tell by the stoic faces in the room that they aren’t impressed.

  “It’s a long tail plan, and I think that everyone here was hoping for a more immediate solution.”

  “We just don’t have another six months for all of this to hopefully kick in.”

  Jim Tessa reports directly to the NFL and never lets us forget it. While the teams are individually owned, much like a franchise, there are certain standards and rules that each team has to abide by. Code of conduct is one.

  “I hear you, but where was all this urgency when you were screening for illegal substances?” Paula counters. She’s a tough cookie and will not be walked all over. I love that about her.

  “It’s your job to put out fires.”

  “That would be much easier to do if we had one squeaky clean player we could rely on to offset the bad coverage.”

  “I don’t know if any of that matters. You are the spin doctor. You should be able to make us look like saints even if we have a team full of sinners.”

  “So what do you propose, Jim?” Paula’s tone strains to remain respectful. “I’m dying to know.”

  I take another sip of tea watching the lively exchange as if it’s a tennis match. Then Jim suddenly turns his eyes toward me.

  “The answer is so clear, that I’m amazed no one else has brought it up yet.”

  “Please share,” Paula says.

  “You’re an alumnus of Georgia Union, right Olivia?” he asks me.

  “Um, yes.”

  Paula looks at me and winks. I take another sip of my tea. She knew that they were going to ask me about this. She may have even planned it. I don’t know her well enough to be sure, but I do know that she is a master manipulator. Anything is possible.

  “May I ask why no one has thought of the obvious?”

  Paula sighs heavily with frustration. “Which is?”

  “Putting Diesel Bridgewater out front. I mean like seriously plastering his panty-dropping smile all over New York. Let’s get him on television, sides of buses, subway stations, soup kitchens, children’s hospitals. Everywhere.”

  The tea in my belly begins to churn forcefully inside of me like a tsunami when I think of it all.

  “It can be your new hire’s first big campaign. I know Union is a small school. She must have known him if she worked as a team publicist. We paid a lot of money to buy his contract, and he owes us, but you know how temperamental these players are. He’ll probably be more likely to follow her lead since they have a shared history.”

  “Not sure if it’s going to happen, Jim. I’ve reached out to him numerous times, but the guy hasn’t responded to any of our communications.”

  “Maybe that’s because the communication hasn’t come from Olivia,” Jim responds.

  Crap.

  I’ve worked really hard to make sure that no one at any university I’ve worked for or the NFL knew about my connection to Mason. Basically, for this very reason. I assumed that if they knew, that they’d eventually want me to call in a favor. Something I would never do. Something that at this rate is almost impossible for me to do. He won’t talk to me, and I don’t blame him.

  “What do you mean?” Paula stares curiously at me. “So what, they went to Union together? I went to Michigan, but you don’t see me exchanging Christmas cards with Tom Brady.”

  “I knew Mason in college,” I interject. Trying to salvage any little bit of credibility I have left with Paula. “I knew him well.”

  A few people around the table start muttering under their breath.

  “That’s what I heard,” Jim says with a grin on his face like a cat who swallowed a canary. “In fact, I heard you two grew up together in Georgia. Next-door neighbors right?”

  This is disastrous for me. I should have told Paula about this when she brought me into her office. Now we’ve both been blindsided in front of our bosses.

  “I’m sure our relationship has been exaggerated by whoever told you about it,” I say. “I haven’t spoken to him in a very long time. Plus, I’m not even sure that getting him involved would be helpful.”

  “What do you mean it wouldn’t be helpful?” Jim challenges. “Diesel is photographed everywhere he goes. He has at least two endorsement commercials being aired as we speak. One is for the Under Armor clothing line, and the other is for a sports drink, plus he always has a hot actress or singer on his arm. He could bring tremendous visibility to the ball club if we could use his celebrity as leverage.”

  “You probably have your reasons for keeping the fact that you have a connection to Mason Bridgewater to yourself, Olivia, but if there is any chance you could ask him to get on board—I can’t see how it wouldn’t matter,” Paula adds with a bit of salt in her voice.

  She’s definitely pissed at me.

  “I might be able to convince him to cooperate,” I say. Immediately wishing that I could swallow my desperate words completely back down my throat the minute they fall out of my mouth. Especially because Paula’s eyes light up with hope.

  I’ve done it now.

  “That’s awesome,” Jim says as he adjusts his rather large frame in the conference table chair. Making the base of the seat squeak when he does. “I’ll put him in touch with you. He’s definitely got some down time on his hands, since he’s still recovering from his injury.”

  I can feel Paula’s proud stare from across the table, and it makes me feel a little uneasy. It’s going to be such a long shot if I can actually get Mason to agree to anything, but like Paula alluded to earlier, I’m in here fighting for my job today. Maybe for the entire department’s jobs.

  “I just want to be clear about what I’m asking him to do.”

  “Anything,” Paula cuts in with a wide grin across her mouth. I mean she’s showing teeth and everything. “Whatever you can get him to agree to. I’ll put together a kick-ass short-term plan of attack.”

  The general manager, Mr. Kirkpatrick, has been silent the entire meeting but now hits the table with his palm.

  “This will work,” he states matter-of-factly with a pleased gleam in his eyes. “Meeting adjourned.”

  After the conference room empties, Paula pats me on the shoulder to stop me from leaving.

  “Why didn’t you mention that you knew Bridgewater?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Did you sleep with him in college?”
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  I don’t want to tell her that it’s even worse than that.

  “Yes.”

  “Hell, that could work to your advantage. I’ve never MET a man that didn’t want to come back for a second taste.”

  “I’m not sure he’d be interested.”

  “Did you give him the clap?”

  “No.” I giggle.

  “You’re beautiful, he’s single, and if I wasn’t so long in the tooth—I’d do the dirty job myself.” She laughs.

  But I don’t laugh.

  All of a sudden, nothing is funny anymore.

  All of a sudden, I just want to vomit.

  29

  Mason

  “Damn, Bridgewater, you look like my Grandpappy out there!”

  “You’re never going to catch a ball running that slow.”

  “Diesel my ballsack. We should nickname you sludge.”

  My new teammates seem to enjoy busting my balls. I know what a lot of them are thinking. I was hailed as the second coming in the NFL but when I got here, I didn’t do much. My stats are abysmal, my body hurts every day, and I can’t get a quarterback in this league to throw me the ball.

  On the other hand, thanks to Uncle Quincy, I make a lot of money. I have really great endorsement deals, have done two animation voiceover parts, and taped five scenes on a new television medical drama.

  "Stop lying to yourself,” I say out of breath. “I can outrun your fat asses any day.“

  “Outrun us to McDonald’s.”

  “Bridgewater.” The coach calls me off of the field with a look of disgust on his face. “Hit the showers. You have a meeting with pub department.”

  “I do?”

  “Something Kirkpatrick hooked up. You gotta at least take the meeting.”

  “Coach, I’m trying to focus all my energies on getting back in shape.”

  “I totally agree but what do you want me to do? There are parts of this job that ain’t fun. Meet with ’em. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but you have to give them the courtesy of doing their job.”