Page 41 of The Player's Obsession

I rearrange the dresses and pantsuits in the hanging garment bag and make sure that I have the corresponding shoes packed. Everything is ready for the trip tomorrow except for last-minute toiletries.

Then, with nothing better to do, I clean. I’m overdue on dusting. Gag, gag. I hate it so much, but it must be done before I start sneezing. I changed my bed sheets and the filter for the central heat. I dust and then vacuum. I love coming home to the smell of lavender from freshly mopped floors. When my head hits the pillow tonight, I want the sheets to be stiff and smell of rain-scented fabric softener. Nothing says welcome home better than sinking into your comfy mattress and falling asleep in your own bed.

I heat leftover soup and make a grilled cheese sandwich. I curl up on the couch and wish I had a dog to cuddle. My heart hurts every time I pass the shelter in town. I didn’t adopt a pet due to my situation, but now that things are looking up, I might be able to afford a dog one day.

Lucinda calls, and we chat as the movieLet it Snowplays on in the background. I’ve seen it so many times I don’t need to pay attention to the dialogue to know the ending. It’s a cute love story, and funny how best friends didn’t know they were really in love.

CHAPTER19

Oliver

Iwear jeans and a T-shirt and roam around my mansion in a leisurely fashion, knowing I need to nap soon. I think of Penelope, and after checking my stocks in my home office, I can’t resist calling her.

“Do you like the jersey?”

“Absolutely. I tried it on. It’s so official.”

Penelope sounds happy to hear from me. Who said you can’t buy love? Maybe having five figures in her savings account has a tranquilizing effect. Or the ice queen is melting under the hot lights of dating a football player, or should I say engaged to a football player? Either way, I’m happy for the change in her demeanor. Not all players are assholes. It’s about time she realizes I’m not a jerk.

Wait, what if she’s already faking it by pretending to like me? After all, she does need the money. But, I don’t care. All I care about is the wedding this weekend and making Melanie jealous.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Well, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did, you’re my girl now. That’s what we do. Are you ready for the game tonight?”

“Yes, Lucinda and I will be there. She was instrumental in helping me pick out a wardrobe today. She has an eye for that kind of stuff.”

“Did you have fun?”

She pauses before answering, “Yes, I did. We even took time to eat lunch.”

“Great. How was the food?”

“Awesome. The burgers were great, but I didn’t feel like I belonged in those high-end stores.”

“It takes time to get comfortable with new experiences. When players change teams, they have to move and start over with new teammates and systems, and …well, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about that.”

“I find it fascinating. I love football and wish I had more time to watch the games. With my schedule, it’s not easy.”

“Well, tonight, your wish comes true. I’ll look for you in the stands.”

“Okay,” she replies before we say goodbye. I call my brother, he won’t believe the progress I’ve made on my plot.

“What’s up?” he answers with a groggy voice. Shit, I forgot he’s in a different time zone and he’s probably still sleeping from being out late last night. Mom and Dad are staying up late to watch his late-night game at home and will not be at my game tonight.

“Shit, sorry I woke you.”

“Dude, you really need to find a woman. These daily calls to talk about Melanie are getting old. You two were never right for each other. You may as well have been living on different planets. The relationship was all one-sided. You paid for everything, and she took, took, and took. It was never enough. Remember all the times you tried to cheer her up by buying her a new Louis Vuitton bag? Then she would complain you bought the wrong one like you’re supposed to be able to read her mind. There was no pleasing her. And let’s not forget her inability to eat. It’s not normal to reject food. I want a woman who can dig into a plate of ribs and lick barbecue sauce off her fingers, y’know?”

I can’t believe he’s accusing my ex of being an anorexic gold digger.

“Yeah, I know how you love to put your barbecue sauce on everything, including your women, but this is not about you. Melanie had some issues, but you have to admit she knew how to throw a great party.”

“For her friends, not yours. And I don’t blame her. Most women don’t want to be around beer-swilling jocks who want to throw furniture in the pool. But honestly, I don’t think she liked our family. She never had more than a five-minute conversation with me.”

Now that he mentions it, she’d never touch beer and refused to let me have a kegerator in my house. She agreed to have one baby, but only after she quit modeling in her mid-thirties. She’s younger than me, so that would have made me a middle-aged dad.

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