Page 56 of Sacked
“It would be different.”
“What would be?” I asked.
Abruptly, he stood. “Never mind. I need to pee.” With that he was gone.
Chapter 21
Fin
* * *
Dijon, Troy, and Treshawn convinced me to meet them at the Vine for an after-game beer. They called it both a celebration and a tribute to Cody. After showering and answering questions at the press briefing, I sent Vee a text message, letting her know I would be at the Vine bar for a short time and upstairs soon.
She replied.
* * *
“I’LL BE HOME.”
* * *
Home.
It didn’t happen overnight. Nevertheless, I was starting to think of Vee’s place as home. I’d only stopped by my apartment to move more clothes and personal items to her condo. My thoughts went back to week four of the season, the night I met some of the guys here at the Vine bar after the game. It was the night Vee sent me a text message, the night we decided to put our past behind us and move forward. Since that evening, I could count the number of nights I spent in my own apartment on one hand. Hell, I’d spent more nights in hotel rooms than in my apartment.
I didn’t want to pressure Vee, but honestly, holding on to my apartment seemed unnecessary. Everything there was flat and fake—all rented. Vee’s place was the opposite of fake. In the last two months, her condo felt more like a real home than I’d experienced in years.
Without a doubt, the Vine was where my heart called home.
Dijon waved as I stepped through the arch into the bar. He and Treshawn were sitting at a high-top table. Hometown amber jerseys and shirts filled the establishment as the 4:30 NFL games played on muted televisions high above the patrons. As we were last time, the players at our table were dressed in casual business attire.
I took the seat next to Treshawn, facing the entrance and hallway. It was an old habit. However, now I wasn’t watching for Vee to facilitate a chance meeting. I knew exactly where I’d find her. “Troy coming?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Dijon said. “Pratt called him in his office as we were leaving. He said he’d catch up.”
“Pratt.” I pressed my lips together. “Troy’s pissed about today. And honestly, I don’t blame him.”
“The coaches,” Dijon said, “are looking at the long game. Imagine if it was Troy out there who got sacked.”
A waitress approached our table. “What can I get you?”
We all ordered.
After she walked away, I shook my head. “If it had been Troy, he’d be fine. The hit was clean. Cody didn’t have his back foot planted. He does that…shuffling as he reads his progressions.”
The other two men nodded.
“I talked with Cody after the game,” I said. “He believes the sack should have been called for roughing the passer. He’s pissed there wasn’t a call or that Tilson didn’t throw a flag.”
Our waitress arrived with three tall beer flutes and handed each of us our selected ale. “Will you be eating today? I can get you menus.”
“We’re still waiting for someone,” Treshawn said.
She smiled and promised to check back.
Treshawn elbowed me. “Damn, she’s hot and sending you some vibes.”
I scoffed. “I didn’t notice.”
