by Romi Hart
“I just meant…you know, not attracted to you. Just like you’re not attracted to me. We’re friends.”
“Right,” Scott says with a sneer. “Don’t worry, you’re not my type, kiddo. You’re more like a sister to me.”
“Exactly. So will you come? I don’t want to take a date. And I know if I take Jan, she’s just going to try to make me hook up with somebody.”
“Yeah sure, I’d love to go. I love the Cowboys. And yes, I agree Nate Jiggur is a total jerk. I just love their defense this year.”
“Totally.”
* * *
What does an unavailable woman wear to a game—a place where stink, beer, hot dogs and sweat fill the air? I chose to dress a bit conservatively. As usual, I wear my blue jeans, which Jan assures me, are mom jeans and definitely "biker-bait" in her own words. I also wore a pink Dallas Cowboys tammy lace-up top, just to show team spirit.
Poor Scott! He had to walk around all evening and keep his head down while guys shamelessly hit on me. That’s the price of a free ticket!
It was a great game…
But since Scott assured me the team already won and the last down is just a formality, I figured let’s go…and hopefully get out of the massive traffic jam early.
I wait by the exit, eager to leave and get home.
“I’ll be back,” Scott says right before going to the nearby men’s room.
Oh no…alone and unsupervised, waiting in a huge auditorium. This is the absolute worst time to be alone. The last thing I want right now is some cocky sports nut, coming up to me all drunk and horny. Maybe it's better if I wait outside for Scott. Yeah, I think I'll do that…I slowly head towards the exit and open the door.
A man stands before me. No shirt, muscles bulging, barely wearing torn jeans as shorts. Freshly showered and deep blue eyes.
I temporarily forget where I am and stare into his…pecs. His tight abdomen. His body is immaculate. My eyes start to sink lower…instinctively wondering if I can see past his jeans.
I clear my throat and gain control of myself. “Sorry. I was just leaving,” I say shyly.
“Why so early?” he says with a smirk. He opens the door for me and signals for me to walk ahead.
"Oh thank you. Actually, I'm waiting for a friend. But you know, I don't like to be alone at a football game."
The man grins. His naked, hulking body is making me a little nervous. I can barely meet his face, but I suppose it’s the polite thing to do. At least he seems like a half-naked gentleman. Come to think of it, WHY is he naked in a place like this…?
I look him in the eye…I smile. Then I frown. Wait a minute. I know this face. Isn’t that…
“Nate Jiggur,” he says coyly. “You just caught me leaving the showers. The game’s already won and our second QB seems to have things handled. So now you know my secret. I like to leave early too.”
“Oh my God,” I say with a laugh. “This is so weird. I was just talking about you.”
“Oh? Good things I hope.”
“Well…”
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“A-”
“Who’s your daddy? Is he rich like me? Sorry, old joke.”
I laugh cautiously. “Amanda. Amanda Shannon.”
“Nice to meet you, Amanda.” He suddenly turns his face passed me. “Hey…and that’s my limo.”
“Oh wow. Okay…” I say, zoning out. I can’t believe I ran into Nate Jiggur the same week I was talking about him. Scott and Jan are never going to believe me.
He turns on his legendary Nate smile—charming, genteel and deceptively non-threatening. “Hey. Come on for a ride with me.”
“Pardon?” I say, widening my eyes.
“Come on. If we’re going to beat the crowds we should go now. I really don’t want to be swarmed with women while I’m just wearing my torn jeans, anyway.”
“But…where are you going?”
“Where do you want to go? Dinner?”
“Umm no. But thanks.”
I watch suspiciously as his smile only seems to swell—it’s like the word NO electrifies him.
“Come on. I might even get dressed. I’m in a good mood!” he sings. “I want to go out and see the city. I want some company. The only one who’s with me is my driver and my old agent. They’re dreadfully boring. Come on, you’ll be doing me a favor.”
“No, I don’t think so,” I snap back with a half-smile. “But thank you.”
He puts his hands on his hips, flexing his muscles and stewing over the rejection. Maybe the first rejection he’s EVER received?
“Come on, I’ll drop you off at home. Believe me, I can afford cab fare.”
“I don’t want to go with you,” I say.
"Ah, you're scared. Strange guy. Celebrity douchebag. Best quarterback in the history of the NFL—and hey! The NFL is made up of criminals, drug addicts, dog fighting drunks and liberals who won't stand for the national anthem, right?" Yeah, I've heard it all before, but like I always say…"
“Mister Jiggur?” I say shyly at first, until I look him in the eye and give him a firm answer. “I’m not afraid of you. I trust you…you know, sort of. I know if I got in your limo you would be a gentleman. I’m sure it would be a fun time. But I am NOT interested.”
“Ohhhh I see how it is,” he says his voice changing…his whole manner of speaking and gesturing changing before my eyes. Suddenly he launches into the defensive, the Nate Jiggur from television we all know and loathe.
“So you’re afraid of me. Has it really been that long since you’ve been laid, Little Miss Soccer Mom?”
“Excuse me?” I say, not smiling this time.
“Oh yeah judging by that look, I’d say YEARS. Damn, I’m so sorry about that. Just to let you know though, when you take Nate Jiggur home for the night, I don’t quit early. You know what I’m saying?”
I scoff and listen to him, nodding in disbelief. What an asshole. I can’t believe I almost fell for his nice guy act.
“No, I DON’T know what you’re saying. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
“No EXCUSE me, princess,” Nate says, wagging his head like he’s suddenly in the end zone doing a dance. “The invitation is withdrawn! I’m pulling out. And it’s a good thing too, because when I get a woman into bed, I NEVER pull out. She takes every last bit of Nate Jiggur, swallow down that pride, motherfucker—just like the Patriots, just like the Falcons, just like the Steelers and the 49ers. They all got to drink it down – losing to Nate Jiggur is an honor.”
“Whatever…”
“And as far as I’m concerned, you owe me two dinners. That’s right, two dinners! For disrespecting the Great One. And we’re not on speaking terms till I get what I’m owed.”
“What?” I say lowering my eyes. I can’t believe the audacity of this man-child! “I am not treating you to dinner.”
“All right,” he finally says with a calmer smile, letting go of his manic energy and wild gestures. “It was nice meeting you. You know all that trash talk’s just an act, right?”
“An act? You mean you’re not really an asshole?”
“Well that depends…” he says peacefully. “On the game we’re playing.”
“The game?”
“Life is all a game, don’t you know.”
“Well I’m not a player.”
“Duly noted. Now if you’ll excuse me, I got to go put some clothes on and get drunk. So long Amanda Shannon. And you owe me two dinners.”
I watch him long enough for him to leave the arena and hop into a waiting limo. I finally laugh after taking a moment to process what just happened. I rebuffed a millionaire egomaniac…he laughed it off and accused me of being sexually repressed. Now he claims I owe him two dinners.
Oh my God, what a weirdo. I am so going to tell Jan about this. I wish I could have recorded it!
Just as I’m calming down after pacing around outside the building, Scott finds me and nods. “You okay? Why are you out here?”
/> “Nate Jiggur just hit on me!” I say right before a big belly laugh.
“What? Nate was here?”
“Yes. He totally just asked me to come with him in his limo.”
“Oh my God!” Scott replies, pacing around himself. “Nate? Really? Oh hell, I can’t believe a piss cost me the chance to meet a Dallas Cowboy quarterback!”
“I know! And Jan and I were just talking about him.”
“Wow. I mean…” Scott shakes his head. “That’s so weird, right? But I guess…wow, you really turned him down, huh? Most girls would have jumped at the chance to nail a celebrity. That means you have honor. You have standards. That’s good.” Scott nods at me.
I smile back at him. “I’m not a party type of girl.’
3
Amanda
Jan and I have been cracking up all morning at the audacity of Nate Jiggur. It’s business as usual back at the family music store, Guitar World, as dad named it. So original! But dad has always been a very common sense kind of guy.
And his common sense sometimes made him an overprotective parent. Of course, he loved his girls dearly…but he also made it clear that:
I don’t trust single boys. They’re always up to no good!
Well, Nate certainly was up to no good. I'm not sure what I found more entertaining. The fact that this big famous football guy was actually talking to ME, or that he seemed so insulted that I turned him down. Scott seemed more upset that Nate hit on me than I was. I just thought it was funny. Scott was like seriously threatened by it!
Stephen, my brother, and Jan are hanging around the store today. Stephen is my rock in many ways. Tall, gentle and just like dad…ready to take on the world for the survival of the family. He’s given his all to the business. I wish I could contribute half as much as he does.
Dad’s not here today but we are holding down the fort. The autumn season is probably our least busy season so it gives me the chance to really focus and finish twice the guitar repairs I normally do. Good thing too. So much work gives me plenty of distraction. Less time to think.
“Amanda?” Stephen says in a concerned voice. Oh good grief. This better not be about that the electric guitar. That thing was scratched well before I got a hold of it! I knew that customer was trouble…
“Amanda Shannon!” a loud voice proclaims, filling the store with tension.
I lose my half-smile and go blank. My eyes open wide and my jaw drops. How the hell did Nate Jiggur find me at my place of business?
Jan and Stephen look at me in shock. No…they don’t understand! I didn’t give him my phone number. What GALL this guy has showing up unannounced!
Christ, I didn’t even dress up today. I didn’t halfway expect to see anyone, let alone a celebrity quarterback. All I managed to throw on were some low rise rock revival stretch jeans and a black shirt.
Wait, why the hell do I care what he thinks of me?! He’s in my place of business!
I shake my head in surprise and can barely get two words out.
“What…What are you doing here?”
He giggles to himself and nods at Stephen and Jan—who are staring at him in awe.
“I guess we’ll leave you two alone,” Stephen says, figuring there’s something between us, but there’s NOT!
“No, stay here. What do you want, Nate? I said NO.”
“I know, I know,” Nate says with a calm smile.
“And I do NOT owe you dinner!” I remind him, folding my arms.
“No, you don’t. The truth is, I just came to apologize. I acted like the fool last night.”
“Oh really?”
Jan and Stephen are watching in disbelief. Even I’m flushing all over…I feel ten degrees hotter. I’m arguing with the highest paid player in the NFL and a guy that’s usually cracking one-liners on television!
“I was a little high last night,” he says apologetically.
“You were high on what?”
"Well…" he says with a giggle. "High from being Nate Jiggur of course!"
“You kicked the Lions’ asses, that’s for sure,” Stephen chimes in.
“Thanks bro.”
“Hush!” I say to Stephen. “You’re not helping.”
“Look here’s the truth. I said a bunch of shit that obviously you saw through. I came to say I’m sorry. Truth is, I kept thinking about it all night.”
“Uh huh?”
“And what I said was immature. I looked bad. And I couldn’t live with that.”
“So you need my apology to feel better about yourself?”
“No ma’am. Just wanted to say that I apologize for coming on too strong. And treating you like a…”
All three Guitar World employees looked at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence.
"What, a hoe? A groupie?" I say, still not giving him the "apology accepted" smile he so desperately wants.
"Nooo, I definitely wasn't thinking that!"
“Look, man,” Stephen interrupts. “The woman said no. That’s all that matters.”
“I know you said no,” Nate says. “But I didn’t come here for an apology. I came here because I want to ask you out. Properly. With respect.”
“With respect?” Stephen says. “I’m sorry but come on, man. Everyone knows who you are. You don’t treat women with respect, that’s for damn sure.”
Oh Jeez, now Stephen is getting flustered and stepping forward. I’ve got to call this thing off.
“And if you made my sister feel uncomfortable then that makes you public enemy number one in my book. So take your perfect aim and strong arm and get out of here. But hey, good luck this season.”
Nate looks over at Stephen and grins. “Man, I don’t need luck! We’re going to the Super Bowl again, guaranteed! So keep your good luck, dude.”
“Hey!” Jan says. “You’re supposed to be talking to Amanda. Focus, Nate!”
Oh good grief. Jan just wants to hook me up with a celebrity fling. This is so embarrassing.
“Look in all seriousness, I’m only Nate Jiggur on television. That’s not the real me. But damned if that’s the only character people want to see.”
“So when you said I hadn’t been laid in years, was that in character?”
“No that was just the truth!” Jan yells.
"Shut up!" I snap back. "Look, Nate, I get it. I accept your apology. I accept that you're a decent guy in person or whatever. Now please…just go. I don't know how you found me here and it really doesn't matter…"
“Because Amanda Shannon. You’re easy to find. I knew you lived nearby, locally. I searched your name in a PUBLIC search engine, thank you very much. And I found your family business. Your photo is plastered all over Instagram, you know.”
“Ah…got me there.”
“I wouldn’t have stalked you if you were unlisted. I just figured…I owed you dinner.”
“Oh, now you owe me dinner?”
"Yes. At first, I thought you owed me two dinners. But then I realized, you know, maybe it's a bit too new age to make the girl pay for the guy. I can be old-fashioned. I'll treat you to dinner this time."
"Look, Nate, just take a hike…"
“Wait a minute,” I interrupted Stephen. “Okay Nate…if I say yes…to one drink. No more dropping in on me at work. No more weird TV personality stuff. You treat me like a normal human being. I drive. You drive. Public place. No strings. Deal?”
“Deal,” Nate says.
Stephen looks pissed. He’s so protective of me. And as usual, Jan looks deliriously happy. I guess she thinks I deserve a celebrity fling. But frankly…I just want to be done with this. The last thing I want is a one night stand with a guy like Nate. I may be a Dallas Cowboy fan for life…but I will never take one for the team, thank you very much!
* * *
Much to the chagrin of the family, I agreed to meet Nate at a local frozen custard shop just a few blocks from the mall. I insisted that it not be dinner, just a drink…or more specifically, just a delicious sweet froz
en custard kind of drink. Stephen only “allowed” me to go if I text him every hour to make sure Nate doesn’t do anything funny. Jan insisted I share details. (Presumably about the sex I was NOT about to have with this guy)
And now, as we sit here under the trees, eating and sipping frozen custard on a cool autumn evening, I admit…I have no idea what to say to such a man. A man who is…the opposite of everyone else I know.
“That’s good stuff. I tell you this,” he says, “This stuff right here’s worth more than thirty dollar shrimp.”
“That’s true!” I say with a laugh, licking up the frozen custard and trying not to visualize licking other things. Oh Jesus…I think for once, my brain is dirtier than a man’s.
To my surprise, Nate did really hit the “off” switch tonight. He’s not dancing, prancing or singing about his sexual prowess. He really is kind of chill. And he almost seems relieved that no one has recognized him yet. There are a few people sitting to the left of us. But none of them have taken a good look at his face. I can tell…he enjoys the anonymity.
“So come on, Nate,” I say with a knowing smile. “Why are you here?”
“Because I like frozen custard.”
I tilt my head and stare at him.
“And you. I like you. I don’t know why. Do I need a reason?”
“Yeah…I mean you’re a popular guy. Why aren’t you out dancing with strippers and groupies and all that? I mean…everyone knows who you are.”
“Hmmm,” he replies in deep thought. “You really want to know why?”
“Oh yeah, please. And don’t protect my ears. I’m not as ‘innocent’ as everyone seems to think I am.”
“Well…you’re the opposite of every woman I’ve ever met.”
“You don’t say?” I reply, barely holding back a laugh. “That’s what I said about you. And that’s why I said NO, actually, the first time. Because you’re not like any guy I’ve met before. You’re rich, famous. Just…so outside my world, you know? And I don’t know how to handle that.”
