The Baller: A Down and Dirty Football Novel - Vi Keeland Page 0,82
to get it out of my system, the tears couldn’t fight their way through the vast emptiness to escape.
I walked into Indie’s building in a fog. In the elevator, I stared at the button panel, unable to figure out what I was supposed to do. Luckily, an older gentleman walked in with a small dog on a leash and took charge.
“What floor?”
“Ummm. Seven.” After I had said it, I wasn’t even sure it was the right answer.
The hallway smelled like marijuana, confirming I had gotten off on the right floor. Indie’s neighbor, Devin, was a pothead.
I knocked lightly, and she opened the door without asking who it was. A smile lit her face when she saw me standing there, but it quickly fell. “Oh, honey.” She had no idea what had happened, yet she pulled me into her apartment by wrapping me in a hug. Tears threatened, but they still didn’t come.
“Come on.” She led me into the kitchen and flicked on the light. “Sit.” She pointed to a chair, and I complied. Honestly, I’m glad it was Indie I turned to, because I was so lost, I would have taken orders from a complete stranger.
She opened the cabinets, pulled out bowls and proceeded to scoop two heaping servings of Ben and Jerry’s. Placing one in front of me, she slid me a spoon and then sat across from me. “What happened?”
“Can we talk about something else? I don’t know. The weather? Work? Global warming? Anything else.”
She nodded and shoved a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “I’m thinking about sleeping with Devin.”
“The pothead?”
“He fucks like a jackrabbit.”
I almost cracked a smile. Almost. “How would you know that?”
“We share a bedroom wall.”
“He takes ten minutes to spit out a sentence, he’s always so damn mellow. How is that even possible?”
She shrugged. “You just interrupted a good session. You want to go listen?”
“Think I’ll pass.”
She was quiet for a few minutes. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
I stared into my half-empty bowl. “I really fell for him.”
“I know you did.”
“I put the framed picture of Drew inside my closet.” Saying Drew’s name felt like a tiny fissure in the wall I’d put up over the last hour.
“It was time, honey. Whatever happened with Brody, it was still time.”
I nodded, my shoulders heavy. “That’s the irony of it. I was finally taking steps forward, and he went backwards.”
The first tear fell and then all hell broke loose. Once it started, I couldn’t stop it. I sobbed like I hadn’t in years. The cry felt so monumental—I wasn’t just losing a boyfriend, I was losing Drew all over again, too. My heart had betrayed him for another man, and now I mourned for two losses.
Indie hugged me tight. “Let it all go, honey. Let it all go.”
Chapter 37
Delilah
“Could you tell CUM that you need more work done on your laptop?” Indie craned her neck, following the handsome—and very young—IT guy as he walked from my office to the elevator bank.
I flipped open my computer, signed in, and checked that all of my files were intact. They were only updating my virus software, but last time I’d handed my laptop to anyone for maintenance, a week’s worth of research had disappeared. I clicked on the Steel folder and pulled up my itinerary for tomorrow.
“You sure you don’t mind doing this?”
“Are you crazy? I can’t wait.” Indie’s cell phone buzzed. She looked down, smirked, and turned the phone to face me. The screen displayed a cartoon picture of a jackrabbit.
I downloaded last week’s game statistics from the company database as she answered. “Devin, sweetie. Can you do me a favor?”
I half listened to one side of the conversation as Indie asked her neighbor to feed her fish.
“The food? Yes. It’s in my bedroom. The small end table next to the bed.” There was a pause and then, “That would be great. How about if I make you some dinner when I get back to thank you?”
She was smiling like a Cheshire cat when she hung up.
“What are you up to?”
“Nothing. Just being a friendly neighbor and asking Devin to feed my fish.”
“And you keep the fish food in your bedroom drawer?”
She shrugged. “It’s Manhattan. Storage is at a premium.”
I squinted at my all-too-happy friend. “What else is in the drawer?”
She stood. “Why, whatever do you mean?”
“Did you or did you not just direct Pothead to go into your drawer that contains a vibrator and fish food?”