Page 32 of The Quarterback
After that, Nick and Kimbrough settled in at the conference table in his massive office, in front of a view that overlooked all of Houston. Colton could pick out landmarks from his youth, even see all the way to Sugar Land if he squinted.Hi, Mom.
At three, Kimbrough’s assistant came in with a delivery from Starbucks—including his and Nick’s regular orders, right down to the extra caramel on Colton’s macchiato.
They broke for dinner a little after five. Colton’s head was spinning, and he’d taken so many notes he’d filled up two yellow legal pads and was working on a third.
Kimbrough took them to a steak house that felt like it was too expensive to even look at. Tuxedo-clad waiters took their suit jackets as they walked in, greeting Kimbrough and even Nick by name. They were escorted to a huge private dining room, and then a flurry of servers came and went with glasses of champagne for each of them, a bottle of wine for Kimbrough—something they already knew was his favorite—and a bourbon on the rocks for Nick. Appetizers appeared without anyone ordering. One server leaned in close to Colton as Nick and Kimbrough were talking about oil leases and production levels and asked him how he wanted his dry-aged steak prepared. That was the extent of the menu.
It was the best food he’d had in his entire life. He had to struggle not to groan as he chewed, not to let his eyes roll back with every bite. After they’d cleared their plates, coffee and after-dinner drinks arrived. Nick and Kimbrough were still talking, though they’d moved on from business to family. Kimbrough had gobs of children and what sounded like herds of grandchildren, and he had stories to tell of each and every one. Then he asked about Justin.
“He’s wonderful,” Nick gushed. “He’s doing great. He and his boyfriend are out at his boyfriend’s ranch all summer, and they look like they are having the time of their lives. More fun than I’ve ever had, that’s for sure.”
Kimbrough held up his wineglass for a cheers with Nick. “To our children’s happiness. There is nothing in the whole world better than seeing your child smile.” He turned to Colton. “No kids for you yet, son?”
“No, sir.” Colton flushed. He hadn’t had this much to drink in a while. And it was different drinking fancy stuff than it was pounding Bud Lights in the backyard with the guys. Champagne, two glasses of wine, a whiskey on the rocks with Nick. His head was starting to feel like it could float away. “I don’t even have a girlfriend.”
“What?” Kimbrough squawked. “Damn, son, we need to get you out more. Man like you should have them lining up.”
He flushed again and looked down as Kimbrough and Nick laughed. “I mean—” He stumbled around, looking for the right words as both older men turned teasing eyes on him. “There’s plenty of girls who will hook up with me. Or go out with me,” he said quickly. He was with classy men. They probably didn’t do hookups. Nick certainly didn’t. “I haven’t found a girl who will stay.” He shrugged. “Or who I wanted to stay.”
“You will,” Kimbrough said. He chuckled, the sound coming from deep in his chest. “You’ll find someone who knocks your socks off. It will be like a freight train slamming right into you. Bam!” He slapped his palm on the table. Colton jumped. “The day I met my wife, I thought I had been shot. No damn reason to think anyone was shooting at me. It’s just my heart stopped and I couldn’t breathe, and all I could think about was how I never wanted to let this woman go. I wanted to be her mister for the rest of my days. I was a praying fool for the next two weeks, begging God to let her think I was a decent kind of guy. He must have put in a good word for me, ’cause I couldn’t do a damn thing right in front of her for the first year we were together. She turned me into a damn fool, I was so struck with love for her. She still can make me stupid with just a look.”
They both laughed, but Nick quieted first. He stared into his own whiskey glass, at the ice melt and the dregs, and he swirled both around with a twirl of his wrist.
“You’ll find that again, Nick.” Kimbrough squeezed Nick’s shoulder, a slightly softer version of his violent hello from that afternoon. “You had a beautiful boy with her, but your future lies with someone else. Your hearts didn’t beat together. That’s the hardest damn thing about growing with someone: you gotta make sure you keep your hearts beating together and that you really know each other. It’s too damn easy to go spinning off on your own and leave each other behind.”
“That’s exactly what happened. We grew so far apart—”
Another squeeze. “You’re gonna find someone, Nick. Guy like you? I’m surprised someone hasn’t found you already.”
They wandered out a few minutes later, and Kimbrough was picked up by his limo while a private car and driver waited at the curb for Nick and Colton. Nick and Kimbrough hugged, Nick thanked Kimbrough, and Kimbrough waved him off. “Don’t thank me. You’re gonna save lives out on my rigs with your network, so I should be thanking you. See you in a few weeks, Nick. Bring Colton back with you when you come down.”
He and Nick sank into the back seat of the car, enjoying the peace and quiet for the first time in eight hours. The driver pulled away as if he already knew where to go, and, since everything had been meticulously arranged so far that day, Colton figured he probably did. Eight minutes later, they pulled up to their hotel, a quaint bed-and-breakfast-style converted mansion in Houston’s Midtown neighborhood.
“I was sick of Marriotts and Sheratons and Holiday Inns,” Nick had said when they checked in. “I wanted to go places with more character. More substance. I started looking for smaller, local places. B and Bs. This is my favorite, out of all the places I travel.”
It was a gorgeous hotel. Old World luxury mixed with southern class. Houston had more cultural synchronicity with New Orleans than it did with Dallas or Odessa or West Texas, where their cowboys were. The hotel was awash in Gulf Coast Gothic. Magnolia-strewn iron verandas and French doors opened to an interior courtyard full of vines and night-blooming lilies. They were sharing a suite: a bedroom with two queen beds and a sitting room.
Nick dropped his jacket on his bed and pulled off his tie. “What did you think?”
How did he answer that? In one day, he’d experienced more than he thought could be possible in the whole internship. Kimbrough, larger than life. Nick’s private mobile networks, which he’d helped invent, deployed at oil fields and drill rigs across the state.
He’d thought, when he was younger, that business guys were only about making money. That they sold shit to sell shit and get rich. He, in the infinite wisdom of youth, was going to break free from that cycle and do what he loved. He was going to follow his heart. He was going to play football.
He felt like a giant pile of selfish asshole about that now. Nick wasn’t selling his mobile networks to get rich. He was trying to help people. Kimbrough said Nick was going to save lives, bring greater safety to the rigs. Jesus, that was way more than Colton could ever imagine doing. Football seemed small, suddenly, compared to Nick’s job.
“I’m still taking it all in,” he finally said, undoing his own tie and pulling it free before starting on the straps of his sling. “Kimbrough is wild. He’s an experience.”
“He is.” Nick grinned. He rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows and unbuttoned the top two buttons. He came over to Colton’s bed and helped him unwind the Terminator sling from around his waist and over his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“Drained,” he said. “But not tired. My brain is in overtime.”
“I know what you mean. I can get that way after a day of meetings. Thinking of potential opportunities and ways to expand.” Nick held out his hand, and Colton laid his palm over Nick’s for his arm lifts.One… two… three…“If you’re interested, you could come with me to this little bar I go to when I’m down here.”Hold for one. And lower… five… four… three.“It’s a few blocks away. In Montrose.”
Colton’s eyebrows shot up.
“You recognize the neighborhood.”
“Yeah.”
