Page 25 of Heavy Hitter

“That’s what I hear,” she says. “Sorry I missed you earlier.”

“It’s fine,” he says, tipping his head back. “You were busy.”

“Not really,” she counters. “I was just sitting next to my assistant in the back of a Chevy Suburban, so.”

“Right.”

Jimmy feels his eyebrows twitch. “That what’s going on?”

Lacey huffs a quiet laugh. “Um, yeah,” she says, sounding a little cautious. “Why?”

“No, nothing,” he says, closing his eyes for a moment and wishing he’d gotten himself a glass of water before he sat down here. Already his head is starting to throb. “No reason.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great.”

“Okay,” she says, “because you’re kind of acting like a dick, so I’m just wondering if maybe you’re tired and need to eat a banana—”

Jimmy opens his eyes again. “Okay,” he echoes. “Well. Thanks for the advice.”

“Seriously,” she says, “what is up with you?” She pauses. “Look, is this about—”

“About what, exactly?” He cuts her off.

Lacey sighs. “I mean, you’re going to think it’s stupid, but. I know there are rumors going around about me and Toby, and I don’t know if that’s something you care about or not, but for the record, there’s nothing true about any of them. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I—” Jimmy stops. “Okay.” Rumors, he repeats to himself, embarrassed for a moment by how relieved he feels to hear it, only then instead of it calming him down it just feels like popping a particularly gross blister, like now the gunk is everywhere. Like he threw away a fucking ten-game streak on a piece of celebrity hearsay that wasn’t even true. “Well. I don’t really read the gossip rags, so.”

“No, of course you don’t,” Lacey agrees, an edge in her voice. “You’re too cool.”

That irritates him. “Can I ask you something?” Jimmy says, and he knows, he knows he’s being an asshole, but he can’t seem to stop himself. It used to make Rachel insane when he did this, digging his heels in for no discernible reason like a little kid. “Just—in your estimation. What’s the point of all this, exactly?”

Lacey is quiet for a moment. “The point of what?” she asks.

“This,” Jimmy says. “The two of us. Just, like. Chitchatting on the phone.”

“Is that what you’d call this?”

“What would you call it?”

“I mean, I think I probably would have called it something different twenty minutes ago, but now I’m not entirely sure, so by all means, you tell me.”

“I don’t know.” Jimmy shakes his head, trying belatedly to clear it. He wants to tell her to come here so they can talk about this in person. He wants to tell her that he didn’t realize he was lonely until they met. He wants to tell her he’s scared of how much he likes her, that he’s scared about the end of his career, but all of that feels like too much work for the drunken way the room is suddenly spinning, so he blows it all up instead. “A distraction, maybe.”

“A distra—okay,” Lacey says again. “That’s good to know.”

Right away, Jimmy knows that was the stupidest fucking thing he could possibly have said to her. Back when he and Rachel were in couples therapy the shrink was forever trying to get him to admit he was a person who sabotaged his relationships. “Lacey—” he starts, but this time she’s the one who interrupts.

“No, you’re right,” she tells him tartly. Her consonants are very crisp. It’s the diction of the person he thought she was before he spent all these hours talking to her, before he learned her ragged edges and her tells. “I think we’ve both been goofing off a little bit here, haven’t we? Maybe it’s better for us both to get back to work.”

“Okay, hang on,” he tries again. He feels panicky all of a sudden, sweaty with the queasy knowledge that once they hang up that’s going to be it, it’s going to be finished. He’s going to have missed his chance. “That’s not what I—”

“I gotta go,” she announces. “This has been great. Loved talking to you, really.”

“Lacey—”

“What, Jimmy?” She sounds so annoyed. “Because I gotta tell you, I’m a pretty busy person, so whenever you want to stop wasting my time would be super.”

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