“I’m too sober,” said Colton. “Sober as hell. Don’t worry, I’m just hung over.”
“Good,” said Tom. “Now get your ass over here.” Tom hung up the phone.
“Love you too, honey,” said Colton into the dead air…it was a little joke he had with himself.
“That wasn’t your wife, was it?” said the girl, an anxious looking growing across her face.
“Yeah, it was,” said Colton. It wasn’t true, of course. But he knew there were times when lies worked better than the truth. Would it be better to tell her that she couldn’t do anything for him? That what he needed wasn’t sex from a beautiful young woman, but the mature love a woman his own age, of his own maturity level?
But things were hard for Colton, in a way. People thought that because he was a sports star, a world famous rodeo champion, that he had everything he needed: but the truth of it was that the kind of women that Colton needed weren’t the kind of women who were necessarily attracted to him. Sure, there were older women who wanted him. But they just wanted to sleep with him. No one looked at a rodeo champion, a bad boy cowboy type, as a stable long-term partner. They just wanted him for his body, for the adventure, and for the story.
The young woman started crying. “I didn’t know you had a wife,” she said.
“Sorry about that,” said Colton.
He helped her gather her clothes, and showed her the door. He had been so drunk the night before that he didn’t even remember how she had gotten into his room. He felt bad about letting her down like that, letting her think she had helped him cheat…but he knew well from experience that there was no other way to get rid of fan girls…they would just cling to him…and they didn’t have the emotional depth or interesting personalities that he wanted.
He looked at his clock. He had only a few minutes before he missed the entire thing…but he couldn’t even remember what kind of event it was that he was supposed to be showing up at. Hopefully the name and directions were in his email on his phone…otherwise he wouldn’t even know where to drive to.
In the bathroom, he looked at himself in the mirror.
His body was bulky and muscular from riding the bulls. His muscles were sinewy. He inspected his face…wow, he was really bashed up pretty badly. That’s right….he remembered it now…he had ridden yesterday. And he had fall off…of course he’d stayed on for a record time…but he’d almost been trampled by the bull when he’d finally fallen off. He had an intense black eye. The flesh around his eye was completely swollen.
There was a larger hoof-shaped bruise on his upper arm. It was almost obscured by a huge and intricate tattoo that ran down his arm. It wasn’t a full sleeve, but it was close.
Maybe that’s why he’d drank so much…to ease the pain.
In a way, he knew it was true…it was to ease the pain, but not the physical pain.
The pain that was more intense was the emotional pain…that longing for a true companion…someone who understood him…someone who didn’t just want to be with him because he was almost ‘famous,’ because he looked good in tight jeans, because he could stay on a bull longer than everyone else, because his lean face looked good on the TV screen.
In reality, he wasn’t even famous. Not outside the rodeo circuit, anyway.
5
Katy
I woke up in the strange hotel room. For a moment I didn’t remember what had happened. Then I saw the guy next to me...I remembered all right.
It had been sex. That’s about all I could say about it. Nothing spectacular. Nothing mind blowing. Not that I’d been expecting anything more.
I quickly slipped my dress on. I checked my face and hair in the mirror…I did the best I could to arrange everything so it didn’t look like I hadn’t showered, that I had spent the night in a stranger’s hotel room.
But it was pretty obvious. After all, I was wearing the dress from the wedding the night before.
But I couldn’t say I was surprised at my situation. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d woken up in the exact same position….in the exact same hotel actually. Even in the same exact hotel room. I booked a lot of my weddings at this same hotel.
But it’s not like I had slept with an excessive number of guys. Not really.
I certainly didn’t go home with one at every wedding.
But a lot of the times I just couldn’t help myself. It wasn’t that I was looking for sexual gratification. I had a vibrator at home for that…and trust me, it was a lot more efficient. It knew how to get the job done a lot better than a lot of the men I went home with.
I wasn’t sleeping with everyone. But I will say that I knew this hotel’s entire staff by name. I was on especially good terms with the morning staff. They were so used to seeing me there they didn’t think anything of it. Although I did wonder what they said about me…whether I was the object of hotel gossip. No doubt I was. There probably wasn’t much else for them to talk about.
Outside on the large patio, I surveyed the remains of last night’s wedding. Sure enough, the chairs were still out there.
I set about folding them up and stacking them in the corner.
Then I went to my car, a big SUV I used for weddings. I took out a dolly I had, a little car with wheels, and loaded the chairs onto it. Twenty minutes later, my car was all packed up, and I driving back to my apartment.
I checked the clock. Shit…I only had about twenty minutes before I had to be in the office.
I made a quick U-Turn to the sound of everyone else honking at me wildly.
I had to get the office quick. I had an important meeting with my business partner, Sara. There had been some discrepancies with our financial books recently.
I had been annoyed with Sara for some time. She hadn’t been doing much of the work.
As usually, it seemed, I was left doing more than my fair share of work.
And to make up for, it what had happened?
“Sorry I’m late,” I said, entering the office, throwing my pocket book down on the big conference room table. “So what do you say, Sara, how should we begin?” I was busy taking files out of my briefcase, and hadn’t bothered to look up yet. After all, I already knew what Sara looked like. I saw her practically everyday at the office.
“I’m afraid Sara wasn’t able to make it today,” said someone. A man’s voice.
“Who the hell are you?” I said, completely shocked. I was so surprised, I dropped half of my papers to the floor. I bent down to pick them up. Sara and I were the only ones who had access to the office. What was this man doing in here? He was wearing a suit. He looked like a lawyer or businessman, with wireframe glasses and a lean body and a closely shaven face.
“Sorry to startle you,” he said, rising to his feet, and holding out his hand.
I shook it, completely confused.
“What in the world are you doing here?” I said, looking around wildly. “How did you get in?”
“Like I said, I’m sorry if I scared you. Sara lent me her key. This is normally what we do in cases like this, to try to keep things as discrete as possible, try to keep them on the down low, if you know what I mean.”
“No,” I said, running my hands through my hair, hoping I didn’t look like I had just come from a stranger’s hotel from. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Well that’s what I’m here to try to explain,” the man said. “I’m John Haversmith, attorney at law.”
“I’m Katy Copen,” I said.
“Pleased to meet you,” said John Haversmith. “I’m here to represent Sara Meier in what we believe will develop into a case. I wanted to meet with you before this thing sees trial.”
“Sees trial? What in the world are you talking about? Are you sure you have the right place? And where’s Sara?”
“We both thought it’d be better if I came on behalf of Sara. We can understand that emotions can be quite high in the situations like this. The
thing is, we understand that some money has gone missing. And I’m here to tell you that Sara has been taking it slowly month by month, essentially robbing you blind.”
I was floored. Sara had been my best friend since the first day of college…how could she rob me. What’s more, why wouldn’t she admit it to me in person? Why did she send this lawyer to explain it to me, like I was some kind awful person…some kind of defective person who didn’t even deserve a proper explanation like a human…like a friend.
I took a deep breath.
I regained a bit of my composure.
I was able to think a little more logically.
I could handle this. I had been in the business for years. I knew how to handle business situations. I knew how to handle money. I just needed to keep my feelings about Sarah aside fro the moment…those feelings could wait. I needed to get through this first.
“So you’re going to admit in a court of law that Sarah stole the money from me? I assume she’s going to pay it back to me before that?”
“Oh no,” said the lawyer, shaking his head and smiling a little, as if laughing to himself at my innocence. “My client has no intention of paying the money back. That’s why she hired me. We’re developing a case that shows that you have been severely underpaying her for years and she only took what was needed as financial compensation…she needed money to payer her bills, just to live.”
“That’s insane,” I said, nearly shouting. “She gets the exact same cut as me. We’re partners. We split the profits 50 – 50.”
“That’s what you say. But the papers show something different.”
“Well, yeah,” I said. “We never drew up the proper paperwork. We don’t have contracts or anything…because we’ve been best friends for so long. We share everything...”
“Well that was a big mistake,” said the lawyer, shaking his head a little, as if he couldn’t believe my lack of business acumen. “You’re going to have to go to court. You’re going to have to hire a lawyer. And you’re going to lose a lot of money. Now, I could recommend a couple friends I have in the business who might be able to represent you…”
“This is ridiculous,” I said, getting really mad. It was so bad my heart was pounding, and I was sweating. “Get out! Get out now.”
“Now just hear me out…” said the lawyer.
“Out!” I shouted, as loud as I could. “Out, or I’m calling the cops!”
He could see how mad I was. He got to his feet and scrambled on out of the office, the door slamming behind him.
I sprinted after him as best I could in my high heels.
I opened the door.
“And give me your fucking key!” I shouted. “You’re not welcome back here.”
“But it’s your business partner’s key,” he shouted, clearly nervous…he seemed to think I might attack him at any minute.
“The lease is in my name,” I shouted. “And she’s suing me…give me the fucking key…now…before…”
That was all I needed to say.
“Okay, okay,” he shouted, throwing the key toward me. It landed at my feet, and he turned around and dashed away, his suit jacket flapping behind him as he ran away.
I couldn’t believe it. How could Sara do this too me? It was simply unbelievable.
I pulled her number up in my phone and pressed dial.
“Hello, thank you for calling Sara,” said a mechanical robot computer voice on the other end of the line. “Please leave your name and number after the beep.”
I knew Sara really well. I knew that she always kept her phone with her at all times, on vibrate and the highest ring tones.
In all the years I had known here, Sara had never missed a single phone call…even in the middle of the night…even when she was in the shower…even when she was masturbating or having sex.
We’d had plenty of conversations where I’d called her when she was masturbating…Sarah was practically always masturbating.
Usually I’d ask her for the name of the video she was watching. Sometimes I’d pull it up on my computer and watch it too. Usually it was some hot cowboy or hot buff black guy. We never talked about it, but I’m pretty sure we were both masturbating together while talking on the phone...I know I certainly was.
I tell you that just to give you a sense of how close I was to Sara.
I was immensely hurt that she didn’t pick up my call…we had a pact, that we would always pick up the phone no matter what. Sara was my only friend. My best friend. The person I truest most in the world.
Not only was she ignoring my calls intentionally…I was sure of it…but she had been stealing money from me for years. And now she had sent a lawyer to our office telling me she was suing me…for unfair payment. What bullshit. We had worked out the numbers together…it was an even split right down the middle.
Tears welled in my eyes.
But my sadness and despair quickly turned to rage.
I called a locksmith and asked him to come immediately to change the locks.
“I won’t be here when you get here, so just let yourself in. Install one of those digital locks and make the code 8837. OK?”
“OK,” said the locksmith.
I hung up the phone.
I grabbed my pocket book with all my stuff.
I didn’t even go home to change my clothes.
I drove my car like a maniac.
Where could I go at this hour to blow off some steam?
I had no idea.
I saw a sign for a bar. It was a big cheesy neon sign, showing a cowboy lassoing a naked woman.
What the hell, I thought to myself. I could use a drink. And a laugh. I had never taken these rodeo guys seriously…and maybe this was some kind of titty bar where naked women pranced around.
Maybe it would be good to blow off some steam…have a few laughs and a couple drinks…and better yet, no one would recognize me here.
If I went to a regular high-class bar, I was bound to run into a past or future client. The word would get out that the wedding planner was drinking in the middle of the day. That really wouldn’t be good for business. No, it was better to drink in the middle of the day in some cheap place where I’d never run into anyone I knew.
6
Colton
Colton walked into the dingy bar. It was dimly lit. This was where he felt he belonged. He was still doing well in the rodeos. He was still a good rider, if not a better one than he had been. He was a little older now…a little more beat up. He had more injuries. But he also knew more. His brain had adapted over time to the event.
He knew how the bulls moved. He had an instinct...of course, he had always had one for bulls. But this was different. Colton was becoming wiser…and he was only in his late twenties.
But while he was still doing well at the rode shows, the media at large wasn’t paying him the least bit of attention. Rodeo was still to be a minor corner of the sports world, one that no one paid much attention to.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t get a new woman every night. But it meant his manager was hounding him all the time. It meant a lot less money. It meant staying in crappy hotels. It meant he wasn’t sleeping with celebrities…just over-enthusiastic rodeo fans.
It meant he had to buy cheaper liquor.
The thing he hated most of all was having to do these events…a few years ago he had been on TV programs, he had been on talk shows. Now he was hear in a strip club signing autographs.
A few years ago, it had seemed like he was going to become a real celebrity, a real star. It had seemed like people would soon know him outside the rodeo world. But that had all vanished.
He ducked quickly as a pool ball went flying right at his head.
“Holy shit,” he said.
He looked around.
A fight at the pool table had broken out.
Two huge men were facing each other, about to bump chests. They had their hands in fists at their sid
es. One of them had apparently thrown a pool ball at the other’s head. It had missed, and that’s when it had gone whizzing by Colton’s head.
“You’re finally here,” said Colton’s manager. He was a short man, who was always rushing around, flapping papers and opening and closing his briefcase. He was the type of man who would have always been on his cell phone, had he had important enough clients. But his cell phone stayed sadly in its holster on his belt, practically unused since Colton’s fame had taken a turn for the worse. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I slept in,” said Colton.
“You slept in? It’s practically the middle of the afternoon. Jesus Christ, we’ve got to figure out what to do with you. You know, I’m doing these shows for you. This is for your career. You think I’m having fun doing this either?”
“Couldn’t you have gotten us a better gig?” said Colton, eyeing the crummy bar with a look of disdain on his face.
“Look, Colton,” said the manager, an even more unpleasant expression growing on his face. “This is where we are now. I can’t get us any better gigs because of you. It’s your whole image. It’s not me. This isn’t my fault. You can only blame yourself for this.”
“What the hell, man?” said Colton. “I’m riding better than ever, aren’t I?”
“That’s right,” said the manager. “But listen, Colton. I’ve been in the business longer than you. I know how everything works. You may be getting better, but nobody cares. Frankly, the public could give a shit. The fact is, you’re older now, and you’re starting to lose your looks.”
“I’m losing my looks?” said Colton, growing red in the face. “Are you kidding me?”
“Look,” said the manager. “You’re a great looking guy. You always have been. But the fact is the women like those 18 year old guys, the taught bodies, all that. Now I’m not saying you have a bad body. I’m sure you could sleep with any of the women in this bar, including the strippers, if you wanted to, and I’m confident that you’ll do so later with some lucky girl.”
Football Baby: A Secret Baby Romance Page 33
