Page 5 of The False Start (Off the Bench)
Chapter Three
LILA
I wake with a start to the blaring of my alarm, my head already pounding to the beat of the incessant beeping.
I groan. I’m never drinking on a weeknight again.
No more Thursday drinks, no more happy hours, I swear.
I scroll through my phone, checking my Outlook calendar, and my breathing eases slightly.
At least I don’t have any client meetings today.
I make my way on shaky legs to the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror, my eyeliner smudged down my cheek, hair limp and matted, and wince.
I forgot to take my makeup off last night.
My mom keeps warning me about wrinkles now that I’m in my thirties, and here I am, sleeping in a full face of makeup.
I grab a cotton round with a sigh and dump micellar water on it, scrubbing at my eyes and savoring how the pressure offsets the pounding inside my head.
Face now clean, or at least makeup free, I turn on the shower, running it colder than usual, and step in, hoping the temperature will sooth my hangover and wake me up.
I wash quickly, the cold water doing nothing to alleviate my oncoming migraine, and exit the shower without washing my hair.
Dry shampoo is going to have to do today.
I’m already dreaming about coming home and getting back into bed.
Thankfully, it’s Friday, and with no big meetings, I can dress a bit more casual. I throw on dark jeans and a blouse, adding a blazer since the fall weather calls for a second layer.
Shit, I’m already almost twenty minutes late and have no makeup on and no plan for caffeine.
I text Sadie, my coworker-turned-friend.
Hey, running late, cover for me pls!
Sadie
You got it!
I swipe on some mascara then grab a clip for my hair before running to the elevator. I open my Starbucks app, adding an extra shot to my iced latte and grab one for Sadie as a thank you, clipping my hair up as I walk through the lobby.
The walk to Starbucks is thankfully on the way to the office and only down the block, but I open my email anyway, scrolling through as a pit of dread settles into my stomach.
Email after email, all urgent, pop up. Last night around eight, an oil rig off the Texas coast exploded—well, a small part of it.
One of my bigger clients, C)
That good?
Come on, they were fun though right? Would you want to hang out again? Theo finally gave in and promised to teach me about Hockey!
Okay if you don’t respond by 2:30 I’m assuming you’re down to hang out again
Perfect I’m adding you to a group text.
I glance at the clock, 3:05 p.m. Damn, Kris Jenner might work hard, but she hasn’t met Katie yet.
Katie
Lila’s down! Theo, when can you explain Hockey to me?
I snort. Katie decided a few weeks ago she was going to date a hockey player and has enlisted Theo who spent much of his childhood in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan surrounded by backyard ice rinks, where the kids are born with skates on their feet.
Katie
Don’t forget you promised.
Theo
We have practice today and a lift session, and a game Sunday, but Monday we just have film in the morning.
I look at the calendar. Miami is playing on Monday, and while I might have to let Colton help out with my client, I can damn well make sure I beat him at fantasy football this week.
I have a thing Monday, I’m out.
Katie
No you don’t. You’re just going to be watching the game.
Theo
Game? As in football?
Yes Theo, girls can like football too.
I roll my eyes.
Theo
Perfect we can all watch it then.
Fine.
I switch my phone to silent and slip it in my bag. Whatever, I was going to watch the game anyway, Katie’s right. Maybe watching with a pro player will help my points this week; I need all the good juju I can get right now.
I finish up my to-do list, grateful it hasn’t spontaneously multiplied in the last hour, and by four, I’m walking home thinking only of how soft my bed will be in approximately twenty minutes.