Page 3 of Necessary Roughness

I saw the smile forming on Claire’s face as she opened her mouth as if she were going to shout over and say hello to Luke.

“Don’t!” I said, aggressively but quietly so that we wouldn’t catch Luke’s attention.

I reached out and ushered Claire inside as she giggled maniacally.

“What?” she asked, teasing me. “Don’t you want to say hello? It’s polite to be the welcome wagon.”

“I just moved here too! He should be welcoming me!”

“I bet you’d like that,” she quipped with a smirk. “I bet you’d like for him to welcome you all night. Over and over.”

I rolled my eyes. “Wow. Thirty seconds. New record speed for being crass.”

“Hey!” she shouted as we walked into the kitchen. “Don’t get mad at me for saying what you’re thinking. He’s hot.”

“He’s my arch nemesis,” I protested, and then instantly regretted saying my internal thoughts out loud.

I was supposed to keep that title to myself.

Claire scoffed. “Arch nemesis? Did I just walk into a fucking comic book?”

“I meant… enemy,” I stuttered. “You know… rival.”

“Rival?” she asked. “Brett, Luke Dalton is one of the greatest professional football players of all time, earning over two hundred million dollars over the past few years alone. You, on the other hand…”

She trailed off.

“Yeah?” I asked, waiting impatiently for her to finish.

Finally, a speechless Claire. A sight I had never seen before.

“I’m up-and-coming,” I said, filling in the blank to politely let her off the hook. “I’m paying my dues. My public profile is beginning to grow. The past few months have been kind to me.”

She shook her head and pointed toward the neighbor’s house. “But the past few months haven’t been kind for Luke. You’ve said quite a few ball-busting things about him.”

“Hejustretired,” I said. “He doesn’t give a shit about my opinion. It’s just like you said, two hundred million. That’s the kind of money where a person just doesn’t care anymore.”

Claire shrugged. “Isn’t that what you said about him all of last season?”

As if on cue, Stacy started in my voice, startling both me and Claire. “Squawk! It’s a good thing Luke’s retiring because he’s obviously phoning it in!”

I grimaced and sighed. “To answer your earlier question, that is Stacy.”

“Wow, you got a stalker bird. All this attention is making you a bit of a narcissist.”

I rolled my eyes, opening the refrigerator to find several bottles of water from a fancy brand I had never heard of.

Rich people water.

Handing her the bottle, I said, “It’s my boss’s bird. And Luke doesn’t care about some mid-level sports journalist. He’s LukeDalton. He’s heard it all before. Playing professionally in this league means you have to have thick skin. Media commentary is all part of the job.”

Claire pressed me on the matter as we walked toward the cavernous living room. “How would you feel?”

“What?”

“How would you feel if you spent your entire life striving to be the best player you could, only to have someone criticize you?”

“Hey,” I said, defending myself, “I criticized his playing efforts. That’s my job. Fans want to read criticisms of the plays.”

---