Page 66 of Mad Rivals
I’m consideringa woman’scommute in my thought process of where to live?
But…why?
We’ve been together exactly one night. I have no idea why it feels like more, but suddenly it’s like I can see a future with a person I just met.
Maybe it’s because we bonded on more than one level. She isn’t sure she wants her family business, and neither am I, yet we’re both destined to fulfill a role someone else chose for us. And then there was her hate for me melting into something else.
There was Saturday night and breakfast yesterday.
There’s always California.
I never really pictured my life after the game since it was always mapped out for me, but I’m starting to picture it now. And I like seeingherin that picture.
It’s a hard reality I never wanted to face, but with this being the last year of my contract on top of a trade, I’m not sure I can see myself playing beyond this year. It’s better to quit while I’m ahead. I’ve got my health, though who knows what’s in store for me this season. More years would equal more money, but there’s plenty of cash to be had in the real estate development market, too.
Just ask the billionaire sitting across the desk from me.
“Is there anything else?” he asks.
“Send me the details on the office,” I finally say, relenting. I like what I’ve seen so far of San Diego, and maybe after a year there I’ll decide I’m ready to call it a day on icy winters, lake effect snow, and unpredictable weather. “I can swing by to check it out in person this weekend.”
“We’ve already rented the space, and I’ve already tagged who will be running that office,” he says.
“I thought you wanted me to do it,” I protest.
“And I thought you didn’t want that.”
“If I’m the future CEO, I’d at least like to have some say in these decisions.”
“If?” he repeats, and I forcibly restrain myself from rolling my eyes. “I’ll remind you that yes, you are the future CEO, but I am the current one.”
Thanks, Pops. Really needed that reminder.
Normally on a Monday night in the offseason after the Bradley family dinner, I’d be getting paid to make an appearance at a bar or club nearby. But tonight, I had no offers. And so I’m sitting at home on my balcony thinking about the kiss I shared with Kennedy a few nights ago when I decide to send her a text.
Me:The view isn’t as good tonight.
I take a photo of the pier and attach it, and her reply comes quickly.
Kennedy:Turn the camera around and try again.
I laugh at her text, and then I do it and send her a cheesy selfie.
Kennedy:Much better.
Me:Send me one, too, but with your tits in it.
Kennedy:Definitely no.
Me:You’re no fun.
Kennedy:You weren’t saying that on Saturday night in a bathroom at the gala. Or those times afterward at your place.
Me:You were definitely fun then, tiger.
Kennedy:[tiger emoji]
Me:[laugh emoji]
