Page 12 of Hard Count
“Discuss it now. I’ll make myself useful in the kitchen.” She stands abruptly and begins clearing our plates from the table. I stop her when she tries to take mine.
“Let me.” I stand from my seat. “I’ll be right back.” Ignoring her irritation, I stack my plate on top of hers and carry all three back to the kitchen. She storms past me through the back door I’m holding open for her.
She begins slamming lids on condiments and packing up toppings. I drop the dishes into the sink and turn the water on. “That didn’t go as I thought it would,” I admit to her. I’m greeted with the clanking of glass containers as she packs up the leftovers and drops the dirty dishes by the sink.
“And here I thought you would know my dad better than me.” She wedges herself in between me and the sink, effectively moving me out of her way. “But I could have told you it wouldn’t work. At least not with me in the room. What exactly were you trying to achieve?”
“I can take care of that.” I reach over her and attempt to take the dirty plate out of her hands. She pushes her hip into my groin. I’m left with the option to move out of her way or let her keep rubbing herself against my dick. As good as it feels, now is not the time.
“I’ve got it. He wouldn’t want a guest doing dishes. A guest he didn’t even bother to tell me was coming to our family dinner. Not that I should be surprised by that either,” she mumbles to herself. “Go ahead and fill him in on everything you found on the tapes.” She nods toward the back door.
“You mean what you found on the tapes.”
“I wouldn’t mention me if you want him to actually listen to you. He hasn’t taken me seriously since…it’s been a few years.” She flicks the dishwasher open and starts loading the rinsed dishes.
“You and your dad don’t have the best relationship.”
She laughs humorlessly. “Good job, Inspector Gadget. You solved the case,” she says, her words dripping with sarcasm.
“I’m sorry. That must be difficult.”
Her hands still, allowing the hot water to flow over them until they turn a nice shade of pink. I flip the handle to lower the temperature before she burns herself if she hasn’t already. Twisting her head in my direction. “It’s actually really easy,” she says, then busies herself with the dishes again.
“I know my opinion means shit to you.” I lean closer to her ear so she can hear me over the running water or maybe I just want to be closer to her. “I didn’t particularly like what you had to say but you do know what you’re talking about. If he won’t take you seriously, I will.”
Her shoulders relax and her eyes soften when she tosses me a look over her shoulder. “You should probably go.” She puts the last piece of dirty silverware into the dishwasher and closes it up before turning off the water. “Good luck out there.”
She grabs her keys and phone off the counter. “You’re leaving?” I ask.
“Yep. We already had our usual lectures before you got here and to be honest I don’t feel like staying for another one. See you around, Nash.”
She walks away, leaving me alone in the kitchen. Her goodbye is casual and makes me wonder when I’ll get the opportunity to see her again. Because for some reason, I really want to.
5
DREW
GAME WEEK ONE
It’s been years since I’ve walked through the doors of the training center for the football team. I was in awe the first time I saw all the photographs and championship banners. I was proud that my dad was going to be part of the history at this school with a sport we both love. Now all I see are missed birthdays, cancellations, and forgotten phone calls with every framed newspaper article I pass.
With every accolade Newhouse received, I was pushed further away from my dad. He kept chasing after his next win, giving all his time and energy to the team. Meanwhile his family was left hungry with the leftover scraps we received.
We had a good relationship when I was younger but everything started to sour when he got the head coaching job at Newhouse and my parents divorced. He dove head first into winning championships and pushed me further away toward my mom.
I’m not sure why I came here today. I already know he’s going to turn me away without listening to a word I have to say. But ever since Nash came over for dinner a few weeks ago, I’ve been letting myself believe I have a shot at this. That maybe I can get through to my dad and connect the bridge that’s been broken for too long.
If he won’t take you seriously, I will.
His words still swim around in my head. I think they may have even found a way to slip inside my heart too. I could have cried when he said that. I almost did on my drive back home to my apartment. My knowledge may not be as vast as Newhouse’s more experienced staff, but I have an eye for zoning in on patterns of repetition. I see details a lot of analysts overlook.
I've put together the same report for him that I did in Florida. It was good enough to get me a job as an analyst for their team. I’m hoping my dad will put aside our differences and see the value in what I have to offer.
Is it smart for me to spring this on him? No. Not at all. Even though I made an appointment, it’s pretty dumb. My dad knows best when it comes to coaching a winning team. He took my advice once. I don’t expect him to do it again.
A few players on the team walk with me as they make their way to the locker room to change for practice. I get a few odd looks, but most of them don’t pay any attention to me. Adjusting my backpack on my shoulder, I grip the strap a little tighter as I turn down the hallway that leads to my dad’s office.
Istill have a few minutes before I’m scheduled to meet him. I wasn’t going to risk being late. He definitely wouldn’t have listened to me then. I stop in my tracks when Nash exits my dad’s office and closes the door behind him.
