She knows what she’s talking about. I’ve learned that Kate is super knowledgeable about the sport, which makes sense since she’s an agent. I trust what she’s saying.
“Not to mention the optics,” she continues. “The team owner trading away a good player right before the playoffs start just because he’s dating the owner’s daughter? That would be a huge public relations disaster.”
I nod. “Vince does care about appearances.” I’m feeling somewhat better about the situation. “Thanks for explaining that to me.”
Kate smiles.
“Anyway,” Lilly says. “You can totally have a job at Walk ’n Wag if you want.”
“Thank you. I may take you up on that. There’s not much I’m qualified to do, but I love dogs. But I haven’t given up trying to convince Vince that I should move back in for Cat’s sake. I mean, he doesn’t want to spend much time with her. He’s going to have to take her to swimming and gymnastics. She wants to become a vegetarian! He won’t make sure she’s eating right.” My spirits sink at that thought. “I still think this is ridiculously harsh.” I bite my lip. “I worry that Roman is holding something over him.”
They look back at me blankly.
“He’s probably just angry,” Sara says. “Because he’s not getting what he wants. Maybe he’ll get over it.”
“Yes.” I sigh.
Kate purses her lips. “I don’t like to repeat rumors. I usually never do. But I did hear someone…credible…talking about the Bears having unhappy creditors.”
My eyes widen. “Oh wow.” That’s not good. If the Bears owe a lot of money to other businesses and they can’t pay it…what does that mean for the team? For Vince? “Well, I’m going to talk to Vince about it all. Maybe if I talk to him on a business level, he’ll listen.”
“Let’s talk about the charity event,” Sara says. “We could use help with that, too, if you’re interested. It’s just a volunteer thing, obviously.”
“Of course. I’d love to help. What are you raising money for?”
“The animal shelter where I used to volunteer,” Lilly answer. “We’re still in the early stages. We haven’t even decided exactly what we want to do. We’re thinking of a dog walk, or maybe a dog wash.”
“There are a lot of dog walks,” Sara says. “I think we should do something different.”
“If we knew a photographer willing to donate his time, we could do photo shoots,” Lilly adds.
“What about Keaton? The photographer for the Bears,” she adds for my benefit. “He might do it.”
“Great idea!” Lilly taps something into the laptop computer she has on her knees.
“What about a pet fashion show?” I offer. “You could charge a fee to enter, and people could walk their dogs down a runway, wearing their cutest outfit.”
“I love that! I bet Layla could help with getting a catwalk for us. We’d need a big space. Maybe we could get a permit for Central Park?”
We continue throwing out ideas. We do some quick research online about permits and costs and estimates of what we think we could make.
This is fun, and for a while I’ve forgotten my problems. And I realize things like this have been missing from my life—having friends to talk to and having fun.
19
Owen
Since Lilly, Sara, and Emerie are together at Lilly’s place, Millsy, Hellsy, and I gather in my apartment to watch Olympics. I offer them a beer, but I’ve returned to my teetotalling ways. My liver needs to recover from that holiday.
“Emerie’s over at Lilly’s?” Millsy asks, taking his beer from me.
“Yeah.” I rub my face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Ha. You look like your dog just died.”
“I don’t have a dog.”
“Okay, you look like I’d look if Otis died,” Millsy says. He loves that dog. “What’s going on?”
“Emerie moved in here.”
“Holy shit. That was fast.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. I press the heels of my hands to my eye sockets. “You guys don’t know who Emerie is, do you?”
“Uh…your girlfriend?”
My gut clenches. “She’s Vince D’Agostino’s stepdaughter.”
Silence descends heavily around us.
“Whoa,” Hellsy says.
“What the hell?” Millsy leans forward, frowning. “Why didn’t you tell us that?”
“It’s a long story.” I sigh.
“Jesus Christ!” Hellsy yells. “You’re dating the owner’s daughter? And you didn’t tell us?”
“Stepdaughter,” I correct again. “I didn’t know who she was when things started. Their name is different. They’re also…not close.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Millsy demands again.
Do I tell him the whole crazy story? Do I tell him about Roman Moretti? That this wasn’t supposed to turn into an actual relationship? “Part of it was that I didn’t want you all to treat her any differently,” I say, knowing it sounds lame.
“Now I’m trying to remember if we talked about Mr. D on the trip” Millsy says. “Shit, Cookie, you could’ve told us.”
“Nobody said anything about him,” I assure him.
“So what’s the deal?”
“Okay. Fine.” I sigh. “Emerie and Mr. D are kind of having a disagreement. He wants her to get back with her ex-boyfriend. Apparently, the ex is the son of a friend of his, and he didn’t take the breakup well. Emerie’s adamant that they’re done.” I pause. “She thinks there’s money involved.”
“That’s kind of archaic,” Millsy says.
“Right? It’s fucked up. He’s really pushing this guy onto her.”
“He can’t force her to date him.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Hellsy puts in.
Millsy makes a face.
“Emerie and I started seeing each other just to get Mr. D to stop trying to fix them up again. And to get Roman Fuckface to leave her alone. That was why I didn’t tell you who she was. I didn’t think she’d really be around you guys much. But…” I stop.
“You fell for her,” Millsy finishes.
I don’t want to admit it. “We did have fun together, especially in Aruba.”
“Fun,” Hellsy says. “I thought we were going to have to drag you out of your room. I bet you were having ‘fun.’”
We definitely were.
I go on. “When we got back from Aruba yesterday, he locked her out of their apartment.”
They stare at me. “Holy shit. Why?”
“Because she’s with me.” I gaze glumly at the floor.
“Jesus, he’s nuts,” Millsy mutters. “I thought he was a decent guy.”
“Too much money.” Hellsy shakes his head. “It changes people.”