Page 6 of Who's Playing You
Turns out that he was some douchebag professor at the University. And get this, the asshole’s name wasEarl! Fucking Earl. How fitting.
I continued to drive up on Saturdays or Sundays, as my schedule allowed, to check on her. And there was Earl, always popping up. It really caused me to rage.
The only thing that could calm me down in those moments, besides seeing her beautiful face, were flashbacks to our stolen moments together. We had discussed our dreams and aspirations on Christmas Eve and one other occasion, but during the other times we were able to talk we had discussed art, nature, history and philosophy. She was so damn smart!
What the fuck was she thinking? She could do so much better than this no-talent idiot.If you can’t do, teachand all that. That certainly fit Earl. And it was very evident to me that he was clinging onto Scottie due to her talent, because she was going places. She was incredible - everything she did was beyond amazing. Earl probably saw that and wanted to be along for the ride, because his no-talent ass wouldn’t be going anywhere without hitching his saddle onto someone else’s ride.
What a tool.
But then Scottie finally wised up almost two years ago and dumped his ass. I’m happy to report that she’s been doing so much better since she dropped that dead weight.
He did nothing but hold her back and stifle her creativity.
Since dumping him, she’s been painting again, or painting more I should say. She’s sold more pieces, beyond what I’ve bought from her. But with my new deal with the Rage and my signing bonus, I can buy every single one of her pieces. However, the world needs them too - and she needs to get her work out there and in front of major collectors and not just to be kept in a climate controlled storage unit where I’ve been safeguarding all the pieces that I’ve bought through the years.
I’ve done more than that though. Let’s just say that I’mquitefamiliar with the dealings of the art world. I’ve made it my business. And so in the last few years I’ve made it my fuckingjobto connect with galleries and collectors and influential people within the art world to get Scottie’s name and art in front of them. What’s the result been? Well, since she dropped the dead weight and has had more time to make art again, and with me marketing her, she’s sold everything she’s put out there.
As she should.
Her work should be in a fucking museum! And if I have my way, it will be before long.
Now with meconvenientlyliving only a handful of miles from her, her art is about to blow up. Yes, of course I’ll be busy being the star quarterback in the football league and my first season will be action-packed, but come on! I’ve been working towards this for almost ten years. I’mfinallyin not just the same state as her, but so fucking conveniently in the same town. So you bet your ass that as soon as I signed that dotted line that I called the realtor I’ve had lined up for over a year.
I called Joyce as soon as I got off the draft stage and told her I was finally ready to buy Scottie’s dream house. Well, the dream house she’ll never admit is her dream house.
Scottie doesn’t care aboutstuff, so ergo, she wouldn’t care about a house. But let’s just say that I’ve made it my business and I can confidently say that Scottie loves Victorian houses for their artistry and design. She loves the details that time has preserved, and hopefully the stewards of the houses themselves have helped preserve them too. She loves the big wrap-around porches, the sometimes stained glass windows but definitely the bay windows, and the overall asymmetrical design.
But I knew she actually loved them because she felt a spiritual connection to them. Once she showed me a picture, one that was well-loved with its ragged edges, of a woman holding a baby in front of a beautiful old Victorian. Scottie didn’t share who the woman was but said she was the baby, she then divulgedthat she feels a connection to these types of houses due to the spirit they have.
Scottie’s love for these old houses piqued my curiosity. And the more research I’ve done, the more I fell in love with these beautiful old ladies too. These houses are pieces of art.
And for years I’ve been driving by one in particular. She’s the queen of them all. She’s just on the outskirts of New Hope, where she sits up high on a hillside overlooking the town and college campus below. But beyond that, she looks over to the Catskill mountain range to her west while peeking glimpses toward the Hudson River in her eastern direction.
She also sits on a plot of land that’s over 100 acres, half of which is an apple orchard. There are also horse stables and other old barns and structures with trails that zig-zag all throughout the property. It’s all been neglected for way too long, sadly. I’ve been itching to breathe new life into it and make it shine once more. I had once heard Scottie tell Nat that apple picking was her favorite part of fall and that she had always dreamt of owning a horse. This farm had both, and that was just one of the many reasons that it was perfect for Scottie and me.
But Joyce has known the deal since I first met her. She knew that I wanted this house, but that I was waiting on a “deal” to go through so I could buy it. I’m not sure if she took me seriously at first. But the closer that I got to the draft, the more often I was touching base with her and having her start working up my offer.
The very next day after the draft, once I’d signed with the Rage, she submitted my offer to the owners. It was full asking price - cash - so long as we closed in 30 days or less.
The property had been on the market for over two years, apparently no one wanted to take on one hundred acres with an old apple orchard. The property was an outlier because people either wanted up to 50 acres or above 200, so this property had a lot working against its sale.
Beyond that, it was considered a liability by some due to the chemicals that were the norm to spray the apple trees with in the 80s through the early 2000s. But I’d done my research, and the Smith family, who’d owned the property for two generations, were naturalists. They never used any chemicals beyond purely natural ones. But I was more than happy to have everyone believe their inspectors and insurance agents or whoever else provided them with information, because it kept the property on the market until I was able to snag it.
I had also done my research about the amount of work that would need to be done. All said and done, the house wasn’t in horrible condition. It just needed upgrading and some TLC, which it immediately got. The very day I got the keys, I had a construction crew at the property. After all, I needed my new place set up and up to my standards by the time camp started. And they got it done.
The place is gorgeous. Think Victorian age meets Scandinavian modern. I doubted that the construction crew would be able to pull all the permits and not just make the renovations and upgrades, but to redo all of the bathrooms and kitchen. But alas, it was all done with two days to spare on their timeline. I rewarded the company heftily with a bonus, but they had already turned their efforts to finishing the infinity pool, which had been an additional item and not on the house’s timeline.
I’d always dreamt of having a pool in my backyard, and honestly, it was also the best form of exercise so I deemed it a necessary luxury once everything else on the farm was fixed, renovated and updated.
The queen had now been restored to her prior glory, and then some! She’d never shone so bright. The queen was now ready formyqueen. And I wondered if Scottie had noticed that she’d soldand was being given a second chance at life. I’d find out soon enough because I was getting ready to make my next move.
4
SCOTTIE ANDERSON
Do you ever get the nagging feeling that someone’s watching you? Out of nowhere you’d get goosebumps and justfeelsomeone’s eyes on you? I’ve been getting that feeling on and off for a few years now, but lately, it’s ramped up.
But who’d be watching me? That’s just stupid! I’m no one special.
