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“Oh?” she countered, eyebrow raised at my tone.
“Dead serious, sweetheart,” I told her. “I know when we get back home—you back in Blackwood, me back in Connecticut—things will be busy for both of us. You’ve a business to run. I’ve got an upcoming season to prepare for. It might get a little tough for us to keep up with each other, so it’ll require a bit of effort. Now, if you tell me you’re not really trying to do that, I’ll accept it, but I’m definitely trying to keep up with you. And if you’re trying to do the same, we can’t be dodging each other.”
“I guess you make a good point,” she admitted. “I told you what that was, though. Not ghosting you.”
I nodded. “Yeah, you told me what it was, but now I’m telling you what it’s going to be.”
I wasn’t trying to scare or pressure her, and truly, I was good with our “just vibing” dynamic.
I wasn’t sure I actually had the time to nurture anything more than that.
And as long as it was an “I’m not sure”, to me, that meant it really needed to be a “no” to protect both sets of feelings. What we were doing now kept it breezy, and if we were both good with that, I didn’t see a reason to change anything.
We went separate ways at the airport after we landed in Blackwood, being way more conscious of eyes on us than I really preferred to have to be, lest the internet was full of “farewell” fancams an hour from now.
I still had my flight to Connecticut, so I couldn’t see her all the way home, which I hated, but as she reminded me, she was indeed a grown ass woman.
Fine.
I didn’t have to like the shit though.
Once I was home, I checked in and made sure she was safely settled before I got in my own bed and knocked out, getting in as much rest as I could to prepare for the busyness of the next day.
Appointment with my neurologist, physical therapy, and then finally, the meeting with RSM.
As soon as I walked in, I knew from the look on her face that Cole was not that pleased. But she was never that pleased with my off-field behavior, so what else was new?
“Cold World, what’s good this morning?” I asked, pulling her attention from her phone. To my surprise, her expression shifted to a smile as she looked up.
“Plenty, and I told you to stop calling me that.”
“You’re mean though, so it’s fitting.”
She faked a gasp. “I’m not mean. I’m stern. If you wanna see mean, I can get Bellamy in here though.”
“Hell nah, I’m good,” I told her, putting a hand up. She was referring to another agent that worked with them, known for handling the “difficult” clients everybody else had a hard time whipping into shape. “You calling me a problem child?”
“Today? No,” she chuckled. “Today, I’m liking the pictures and all that of you and Rori from your family estate. Very wholesome.”
“Family estate?”
“Is that not what it is?”
“I guess,” I shrugged. “Shit just sounds stuffy. And we’re not stuffy people.”
“Clearly,” she agreed, holding up the phone. “Looked like big fun. And the perfect precursor to this interview you’ve got tonight with Arnez and Arizona.”
Right.
That was one of the major points of this meeting, debriefing before I went on In The Zone - Blackwood. It was as casual as professional interviews went. The set was designed to look like a nightclub almost, dark colors, neon lights, tropical leaves, drinking encouraged, all very reminiscent of their home setup on the West Coast.
But the resulting discourse could be very, very serious.
It didn’t have much, if anything, to do with actual football, but controversy could certainly affect public opinion, endorsement opportunities, front office attitudes about what number should be on my contract paperwork, all that. The hope was that it raised my profile, put me on people’s radar, blah, blah, blah.
Positive outcomes.
But… it could easily go the other way as well.