“What’s with the face?” Angelo sets down a beer in front of Carlos, but his eyes are on me.
I haven’t even made it more than two steps inside the bar, and my brother’s already calling me out. “It’s pretty, isn’t it? You’re jealous, aren’t you?”
He shakes his head before leaning over the bar, chewing on the toothpick which has become a new habit of his. “You look like someone killed your puppy.”
Carlos turns on his stool, glancing at me. “You look like shit, kid.” He’s never one to hold back his opinions. “Girl problems?”
I groan as I straddle the stool next to Carlos and somehow avoid smashing my head into the wood below my hands. “It’s Tracie.”
“That bitch is wackadoo.” Carlos shakes his head. “Sometimes nutty can be good in the sack. You know?”
I do know. There isn’t a person on the planet who hasn’t had a half-insane person rocking the sheets of their bed at one time or another. For a moment, it’s easy to think you can deal with the lunatic because the fucking is so good, but once the orgasm strikes and the nut comes out, it’s time to ditch the shell and choose being alone over the roller coaster ride.
Angelo pulls the toothpick from between his teeth and glares at Carlos for a second. “You’re really fucked up sometimes.” Then he turns to me, and his face softens. “She still pulling shit?”
“She never stopped. I have one final Hail Mary.” Carlos snorts at the football reference, but I keep talking and ignore him. “I have a date for the team party. Coach said I need to be seen in public with someone because Tracie’s been spouting off at the mouth about how we’re a couple.”
“Pushing crazy’s buttons is never a good thing,” Carlo warns before taking a sip of his beer. “You’re poking the bear, kid. Gonna get bit.”
“Is that smart?” Angelo asks, ignoring Carlos too because we both know he’s almost as nuts as Tracie.
I rest my elbow against the bar and drag my hand down my face. “Coach said I needed to do it, so I did it.”
Angelo points at me. “Try not to take one of your bimbos.”
“Give me some credit, will ya?”
He lifts an eyebrow, knowing me better than I probably know myself.
“I found someone respectable to take with me. Someone I haven’t even slept with yet.”
“Oh, this is about to get good.” Carlos smacks his lips together. “Real good.”
“You have anything to add besides commentary?” I give Carlos the side-eye.
He shakes his head, going back to his beer but mumbling something I can’t quite make out against the glass.
Angelo reaches under the counter and grabs a glass, holding it out to me, but I shake my head. “Who’s the woman?” he asks.
“My neighbor.”
“What’s she do?”
“Fuck if I know.” I shrug.
I haven’t even bothered to ask, nor do I care because it doesn’t matter. I needed a rescue, and her name was the first thing that slipped through my lips.
I can feel the weight of Angelo’s eyes as he fills his glass with soda. “I don’t know, kid. I hope Carlos is wrong about this, but you could be opening a whole new can of worms.”
“The coach has assured me Tracie’ll be dealt with.”
Angelo’s about to take a sip, but he pauses with the glass just in front of his mouth. “She’s the owner’s granddaughter, dumbass. How’s he going to deal with her? Family’s family.”
“Yeah, but money’s money, and Mr. Turner is all about bringing a championship to the city.”
Angelo nods, knowing what I’m saying is partially right. But then, he’s right too. Family is family. There’re only so many ways you can deal with a problem caused by someone you love.
“Well, I hope it works,” he says.
“What’s wrong?” Ma says, finally showing her face after she’s been hiding on the stairwell, eavesdropping.
“We know you’ve been listening. What’s your advice?”
She sits down on the stool next to me and grabs my face. “Want me to talk to Mr. Turner?”
Angelo nearly doubles over in laughter.
“What? No, Ma,” I say quickly.
Betty Gallo has no boundaries. She’d do anything for the people she loves, even if it means embarrassing the hell out of them.
“You’ll always be my baby. I can be very convincing.” She smiles, running her thumb down the side of my cheek.
“That’ll go over big in the locker room.” Angelo tries to catch his breath, but he only laughs harder.
I pull her hands away from my face and place them in her lap. “Ma, I got this covered. Really, I do. Let me handle this.”
“I should’ve taken care of that girl after Vegas. Disgraceful,” Ma mutters, shaking her head. “You said you had it handled then, but it seems you didn’t.”
The entire family got their first full taste of Tracie when she showed up at the palatial suite I rented for the draft. Not only did she drop by without being asked, but when my ma answered the door, Tracie had on a trench coat, which was open, and nothing else underneath.
Pop was amused, but Ma had nothing but harsh words, waving her arms in the air as she chased the trust-fund baby down the hallway all the way to the elevator.
“I did, Ma. I’m handling it, but I had to prove myself first. Please, for the love of God, do not do anything.”
“Baby, I’m always going to do right by you.” Ma gives me a sweet, innocent smile.
Doing right and minding her own business are two entirely different things. My mother tends to be cagey with her answers when she’s already cooking up a plan in her mind.
I stare at my mother, totally not amused. “That’s not a no, Ma. Promise me you won’t do anything.”
“Fine.” She sighs. “How do you plan on getting rid of her?”
“Coach’s got it covered,” I tell her. She raises an eyebrow, and I know she wants more. “There’s a team party Friday night. I have to bring a date with me to show that Tracie and I are not an item. Then, he’ll talk to Mr. Turner about Tracie and figure out a solution to make everyone happy.”
Ma doesn’t speak as she moves her head from side to side like she’s having an internal debate. “I don’t know,” she mumbles under her breath. “It could work, but doubtful. Who’s your date?”
“It’s…”
She places her hand over my mouth, stopping me from saying Bianca’s name. “I have the perfect date for you. Emma Claire.”
I gag behind her palm as soon as I hear the name. Emma Claire is a nice girl, but nothing about her is attractive to me. “There’s no way I’m taking Emma Claire.”
My mother smacks my cheek playfully. “She’s a nice girl. Hush your mouth.”
“Isn’t she studying to be a nun?” Angelo asks, knowing our ma is being ridiculous for even bringing up her name.
Ma glares at Angelo. “What’s wrong with that? She’s a good girl.”
Angelo holds up his hands. “Ma, I don’t think professional football players are a good fit for Emma Claire and her prayers. That’s all. She’s too good of a girl for one of those parties.”
“Scrap Emma Claire. It’s not happening, Ma. No one who knows me will believe I’m dating Emma Claire.”
“Fine. Who’s the girl you’re taking, then? Which bimbo is it this time?”
“My neighbor Bianca.”
“Ahh,” she sings. “A good Italian girl.”
“Nope. A spicy Latina.”
“Catholic?” she fires back.
“I don’t know.” I look at her funny because what the hell does it matter what religion she is. “We’re not getting married. We’re swapping dates.”
“Swapping dates?” She gawks at me and then at Angelo like he has the answer, but he only shrugs.
“She’s coming with me to the party, and I’m going with her to her parents’ anniversary dinner.”
“Is that what your generation has come to?” she asks with a sour look on her face.
“I don’t even know what that means. We’re helping each other out.”
“What’s her last name?”
Jesus. I feel like I’m being grilled by a Chicago detective. “I don’t know.”
She glances up toward the ceiling and mutters some Gaelic curse word. “Maybe I should meet this girl.”
Angelo waves his hand to me. “Ma, let the man handle it. He’s a big boy now.”
She grabs my shoulders and stares me straight in the eyes. “This girl could be some unbalanced stalker.”
“Tracie is the stalker, Ma. Bianca is a neighbor who’s made it very clear she’s not into me.”
“She’s playing hard to get.”
“Betty,” Tilly says as she opens the front door of the bar, rescuing me. “Can you help me for a minute?”
“We’re not done,” Ma tells me before she slides off the barstool and heads toward Tilly.
“You can thank me later for the save.” Angelo taps the wooden bar top in front of me.
“She’s brutal.” I shake my head, wishing our mother didn’t always feel the need to butt into our lives.
“She means well, but she gets carried away.”
I nod at my brother. “I better run. I have some shit to do before my shift tonight. I’ll be back on time.”
He lifts an eyebrow, and I know he doesn’t believe me. “You’re always late. You’ll be late to your own funeral.”
“I’ll be here at seven.”
“Six, dumbass. Don’t play games. Tate has ballet class tonight.”
For my niece, I’ll be on time. That girl has me wrapped around her little finger. I don’t know how my brother says no to her because I sure as fuck can’t. Never have been and never will be able to either.
I walk around the back of the building to get to my car, avoiding passing by the large windows in front of the cupcake shop. I’ll go to any length not to have my mother coming after me again, serving up Emma Claire to me once more.
I make my way to Macy’s for a new shirt since all of mine are in boxes somewhere and probably won’t see the light of day until God knows when. Between training camp and then the football season, not much is going to get accomplished.
Other than football, my life is a mess. I thought playing college ball was bad, but it’s nothing compared to the workouts and training at the professional level.