by Abbi Hemp
“You guys are going to break a monitor or something. I thought we weren’t supposed to be throwing it around in the newsroom.”
“Are you going to tell on us?” he asked, tossing the ball from one hand to the other.
“Yeah,” Tommy asked.
Even the newest reporter without any seniority got more respect than me.
“I’m not a snitch,” I said.
“Good. I know you were a diver in college and all, but that wasn’t a real sport. You understand that, right?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled.
The one time I’d talked back to him, I got written up for insubordination. The lesson? Don’t make Scott angry or upset. He stared at me with a frown on his face then tossed the football through the air.
“You don’t see the publisher down here, do you?”
“No.”
“That’s right, so if he finds out we’ve been tossing the football, I know it was you who told. Do you catch my drift?”
“Yes, sir.”
He laughed, drunk with the power of middle-management.
“You don’t need to go that far. Scott is fine.”
“Okay, Scott. What I was going to say…”
“Heads-up!” someone called.
The football hit me on the side of the head.
“Ow!” I shouted, rubbing the spot where it had hit.
Scott laughed again as the football rolled away and someone picked it up.
“That was an accident. Don’t get your bra all in a bunch.”
That’s not even how the saying goes! I thought but said nothing.
“I’m fine.” I shot a dirty look at the other sports reporter then turned my attention back to Scott. “As I was saying, I didn’t get a quote today, but I have a better idea. Everyone is going to talk to him about what happened today. Why don’t we do something different?”
“Go on,” he said. “I’m listening.”
“Well, I thought if we didn’t run a negative story today, Tony might give us an exclusive.”
He nodded his head.
“Good idea. I like it.”
“Can I get permission to do it? Might take a while, but I think it will turn out good.”
“You have my permission,” he said. “I actually thought of the same thing about an hour ago.”
I had to fight so hard not to roll my eyes.
“Good. Sounds like we’re on the same page.”
“Page B1, the sports page!”
The other reporters goofing off around their desks cheered.
“Right. I’m going to call him and see if I can set something up. If I tell him we’re doing a profile piece on him, I’ll be able to get close and find out what’s going on in his life.”
Scott nodded his head.
“Sounds good.”
“Can I get a byline this time?”
“We’ll see how you do,” he replied.
“I’ve been here a while now, and I thought…”
“That’s your problem, little lady. You need to let me do the thinking.”
I nodded my head and bit my tongue.
“You’re right,” I said, not wanting to get into it with him.
“Damn straight I’m right. That’s why I’m editor and you’re a reporter chick.”
The word “chick” made me cringe, but the blowback if I reported him to Human Resources wasn’t worth telling him off for using it.
“Anything else?”
“Bring some beer back with you next time,” Tommy said, causing all the men around him to laugh.
Before it got any worse, I turned and walked across the newsroom toward the cafeteria. While I had a desk in the sports department, I almost never used it for obvious reasons. I still had two other brief sports stories to turn in that night, but I wanted to set something up with Tony.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
As soon as I sat down on one side of a long, white table in the cafeteria, Kenneth Alderman appeared out of nowhere once again. He started me as I took out my cell phone and prepared to call a list of numbers to get in touch with Tony Carlotti.
“Hello, Andrea,” he said in the odd formal tone he always used.
“Oh, hey, Kenneth. How is the IT department going?”
“Same old, same old,” he said then chuckled nervously.
I stared up at him as he stood a few feet away.
“Did you need something?” I asked when he didn’t say anything for a few awkward seconds.
“No. I mean yes.”
“Go on,” I said. “I’m about to make a call.”
“I can wait,” he said.
“No, go ahead. What’s up?”
“Is the computer at your desk working okay? I’m not on the clock tonight, but I can come by and make sure all your virus software is up to date and it’s running quickly.”
“Thanks, Kenneth, but I’m okay.”
I smiled politely, hoping he would go away. He wasn’t an asshole like Scott or the other guys in the sports department, but he was definitely a geek from the Information Technology Department.
“Oh, okay. I thought…”
“Maybe some other time, okay?” I interrupted. “I’ve got a lot going on.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. No problem.”
He lifted a hand to wave then turned and walked away.
Before I had a chance to make any calls, my phone rang. Unknown Number. Curious as to who it might be, I answered and put the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Is this Andrea?” a guy’s voice said.
“This is me. Who is this?”
“It’s me, Tony Carlotti.”
“How did you get this number? And why are you calling me?”
“As I said, I’m Tony Carlotti. That means I have access to things like your telephone number.”
“Uh huh,” I said. “I was actually trying to get in touch with you.”
“Yeah? Why? About earlier?”
“Yes and no,” I said. “I wanted to talk about your suspension and what’s next.”
“I’m not interested.”
“It’s not what you think. All the other journalists are up in your shit today about your suspension, but I want to do something different for the Denver Post.”
“Go on,” he said. “You’ve got my attention.”
“Like I said, everyone is beating you up right now because of your temper, but I want to tell the whole story, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ll do it?”
“No, I meant I know what you’re saying. Even so, I don’t like talking to reporters. No offense, but I don’t trust any of them, especially not ones from the Post.”
Scott and others had lambasted Tony Carlotti every chance they got.
“You’ve never worked with me before. This is going to be different.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And you owe me.”
He laughed.
“I do, do I?”
“Yeah, for flashing me today.”
“You should be paying me for that.”
I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me, or perhaps because of that fact.
“Funny.”
“I’m serious. You didn’t like what you saw? A lot of ladies…”
“That’s not what I want to talk about,” I said, cutting him off. “What’s that noise in the background?”
The last thing I wanted to do was listen to him give details of his sexual conquests while I sat in the cafeteria at work.
“Just another day at my house. And what else is there to talk about other than fucking and football?”
“Plenty of things. Like all the good you’ve done in the past. And the stuff you’re going to do in the future.”
“I don’t know…” he said, his voice trailing off.
“Are you chicken? A big man like you?”
“Okay, I’ll do it, but there’s a condition.”
“Anything,” I said. “What?”
“Have dinner with me.”
“A work dinner? That’s fine with me.”
“Not a work dinner. I mean, you can ask me questions, but I want to be able to find out about you too.”
“I have a boyfriend,” I lied. “But I’ll do it. This story means a lot to me.”
“Great. Tomorrow night work for you?”
“Whenever. You can send me a text message with the details.”
“Sweet,” he said, his voice sounding like silk. “Talk to you soon, Andrea.”
“Bye, Tony.”
I disconnected the call, my heart beating quickly as I remember the sight of his big cock hanging down – the smooth sides, the circumcised tip, all of it. After a deep breath, I got up to return to my desk. If I got lucky, the assholes in the sports department wouldn’t fuck with me while I worked.
Yeah, like that will ever happen…
THREE
Tony
After she ended the call, I slipped my phone into my shorts pocket and headed back downstairs. Many people might call it a party, but for me it was just another day. My entourage had been collected since high school and contained an impressive number of males and females.
I had fucked most of the females, the cute, slutty ones at least. Too many hours of senseless sex somehow affected me on a deep level. With my career going great, I hated thinking about the deeper issues in life, but every once in a while they popped up.
“Hey, Tony!”
A short blond-haired woman with huge fake breasts bounded down the hallway toward me as I approached the kitchen. Her tits were barely covered by a bright yellow bikini top. It basically hid her nipples. Well, sort of. Ugly Anthony stirred between my legs.
She stopped in front of me, smiling and struggling to stay on her feet.
“Who are you again?” I asked.
“Tiffany,” she said with a giggle.
“You having fun?” I asked.
“We could have more fun if we went upstairs to your room.”
I smiled.
“We probably could, but my doctor says I need to rest.”
“Aw,” she said, pouting.
“Maybe some other time, okay?”
As she beamed joy and drunkenness my way, I walked around her and into the kitchen. The only reason I threw so many parties was so I didn’t have an empty house. What good was all the money in the world if you were all alone? Loneliness scared me.
In the kitchen, I stopped at the refrigerator and opened the door. The shelves were stocked full with food and drink. While I craved a beer, I didn’t want to start down that road. After my suspension, I had to be ready for the playoffs. Our team actually had a chance.
I grabbed a bottle of water then shut the door. When I turned around, Sam walked in with a smile on his face. As a first year player, all the parties and fame were still new and exciting to him. He walked over while nodding his head up and down.
“Having fun?” I asked.
“Too much,” he said. “That one bitch is fucking tight.”
“Who?”
He laughed.
“I don’t remember her name.”
“Just don’t forget the cardinal rule.”
“The cardinal rule?”
“Always slap a Jimmy on your Johnny. A lot of these women just want to get knocked up for your paycheck.”
“Not all of us,” Joan said as she walked up.
I turned as she put one of her hands on my arm.
“Hey. I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“You know how it goes,” she said. “Ugly Tony want to come out and play?”
Let her down easy, I reminded myself.
“I need my rest, sweetness. Maybe some other time.”
Without blinking, she turned to Sam.
“How about you, big guy? Want to go have some fun?”
He nodded his head like an excited puppy. She took his arm and led him away. When I first started out playing professionally, I would have chased her and every other woman in my house, but times were different. I couldn’t get the image of the reporter staring at my naked body out of my mind.
FOUR
Tony
I pulled into her driveway. The Maserati never failed to impress. Once I fucked this crazy reporter chick, I would be able to get her out of my mind. At least that’s what I told myself as I got out of the car and walked toward her front door of a modest ranch style house in an okay neighborhood.
She opened the door and stepped out before I made it. Her dark auburn hair looked sharp so short. I smiled as she walked over, admiring the jeans and sweatshirt. Is she trying to make sure I’m not interested? I loved when women played games. Well, up to a point.
“You’re not going to invite me in for a drink before dinner?” I asked.
“Um, no. Let’s go. I have stuff I need to do later.”
“Wow,” I said, not attempting to hide my shock.
“I said I’d have dinner with you, but I never mentioned anything about enjoying it. As long as you don’t strip naked in the restaurant, we’ll be okay.”
“For the record, you walked into my locker room unannounced.”
“You still could have covered yourself up.”
We made eye contact. Electricity sparked in the air between us.
“Yeah? Well, you didn’t have to stare at Ugly Anthony.”
“Ugly Anthony?” She laughed. “That’s what you named it?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I bet,” she said. “And for the record, I wasn’t staring at it.”
“Fair enough. Love your outfit by the way.”
She glared at me a moment then walked over to the car and got in before I had a chance to open the door, not that I would have done that for her. I was the fucking star. Women wanted me. All women. Well, most of them. The hot ones anyway.
I got in and buckled up. She sat with her hands in her lap.
“You could have said no to dinner,” I said.
“No, because I need this story.”
“Are you accusing me of blackmail?” I asked with a chuckle.
“If the jock-strap fits,” she replied while looking straight ahead.
I laughed as I started up the car. She’s funny.
Neither of us talked on my way across the city, so I decided to have some fun with her and break the ice with something that always worked with women.
“Where are you going?” she asked as I pulled onto the onramp of the highway.
“Just a little detour.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
“Oh, it’s not going to take much time.”
When I hit the mostly deserted freeway, I stomped on the gas, throwing both of us back into our seats.
“What the hell are you doing?” she screamed.
I went even faster, creeping past one hundred miles per hour.
“Hang on and enjoy the ride.”
“I am not enjoying this!”
I glanced over at her a moment.
“Keep your eyes on the road you maniac!”
After another few tense seconds, I let off the gas. The car slowed down as we approached the next exit.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Don’t lie. That got your heart going, didn’t it?”
“You’re an idiot,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
She stared straight ahead as I got off the highway and headed toward the restaurant. Damn, that usually gets women wet, I thought as attempted to figure her out. If she hated me so much, why had she agreed to dinner? Was it actually a blackmail date like she’d said?
I pulled into the parking lot of Pierre’s, a premium French restaurant also meant to impress her panties off. The fast and furious routine might not have worked, but after a bottle of wine and fine dining, she would spread her legs for me. Or maybe ride me in the car.
Inside the restaurant, they seated us immediately without a reservation.
; “That was fast,” she said after the waiter left.
“I’m an athlete and an important person.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything. When the waiter returned, we ordered our food. I told him to bring a bottle of his best wine. Expensive drinks always worked on the women, but Andrea did not seem impressed in the least.
“Why did you get into sports reporting?” I asked.
“I was an athlete in high school but not good enough for the Olympics, so I decided to become a journalist because I love sports so much.”
I nodded, actually interested in her story.
“High school sports took up most of my time growing up.”
“You don’t think it paid off?”
“It did, sure, but I wonder how it might have been different.”
“I hear you.”
Dinner went quickly, too fast for my taste. She pushed her plate away.
“I’m stuffed.”
“No room for desert?”
She shook her head.
“No. It’s late, and I’m tired. Some other night? I should get home.”
“You haven’t even asked me any real questions yet.”
“No, but I’ve got to know you a bit better. That will help me write a better story.”
“Yeah? What have you found out about me?”
“You act all tough like a player, but deep down, I think you’re no different than the rest of us.”
“What do you mean?”
“We can talk about that next time.”
“There’s going to be a next time?”
“I hope so. Everyone is writing negative things about you now. I want to change that and do something positive.”
“Alright then…”
I stared across the table at her beautiful face. She didn’t look away at first. After paying, we went outside to the car. On the way back to her house, I drove slow. Dinner could have gone better, but I thought I had a real chance of her inviting me in for drinks and more.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
I pulled up to the curb in front of her house and parked. She opened her door right away.
“I’ll walk you to your door,” I said.
“That’s fine. It’s okay.”
She stepped out of the car. I did the same, following her down the walkway to her front porch. Both of us moved slow as the moon hung high in the sky. I found it hard to keep my eyes off her even though she was wearing sweats. Something about her turned me on.
