Page 24 of Fake Love

What the actual fuck does that even mean?

“Um, okay?” Is he telling me not to go look for my next hit? “I will make sure to do that.”

Ben nods and looks down at something at his desk before looking back up at me, his face more stoic than it was a few seconds ago.

It doesn't take much for me to realize that the reason he invited me into his office was to give me a lecture.

Gotta love a grown man getting a lecture from another grown man.

But my actions have me deserving this.

“Whatever you have to say, sir, I can take it.” I say, leaning forward, placing my elbows on my knees, bracing for impact.

“Do you know why you’re here, Maddox?” Ben starts, leaning back in his chair, looking me straight in the eye.

“Because my agent advocated for me as a player and The Miners wanted to see if it was true.” At least that’s what I was told when I came to sign my contract.

Ben gives me a nod. “For the most part, that’s what happened, but there’s more to it,” he pauses before sitting up and leaning forward onto his desk. “I’ve known that you’d be a great player even before you were drafted. I’ve been following you since your third year at Notre Dame. You did amazing things in South Bend, and I knew you would do the same when you got called up. I tried to fight for us to draft you but you being a Chicago boy, I knew that wasn’t a possibility. So, when rumors started to flow around about Chicago possibly releasing you early, I fought. I fought for you to be here because this team needs someone like you. We need someone that will put in the work and help us win a title again after ten years. I didn’t give a shit about the drugs because I knew from years of watching you that you would never get there on your own. You needed something to make you want to destroy everything you worked so hard for. The team was on the fence when I brought it up to them. They didn’t want that type of image to define who The Miners are, but they still decided to take my gut feeling for what it was and agreed to sign you.”

If I was younger, my ego would have been inflated knowing that an MLB manager was keeping an eye on me. I’d be telling everyone I knew that I had caught the eye of someone big.

Now, I just feel honored that this man even looked into me.

“Thank you, for fighting to get me here.” I say, eternally grateful that this man did everything possible to have me sitting in his office right now.

Because of my actions, I could be sitting back in my house in Chicago because no team wanted to sign me.

Ben gives me a nod. “There are some stipulations, though. Some that aren’t a part of your contract. These stipulations are coming from me and me only.”

Well, this is new.

I feel my eyebrows raise in question. “What kind of stipulations?”

If he wants to test my pee every day, I’ll do it.

“I know for a fact that the man that I saw all over the news and social media last year, isn’t the man that is sitting in front of me right now. I know that, some of the players know it, some of the fans, but not everyone. There are people out there that will not believe that you going to rehab helped. They will think, if they don’t already, that you’re not worth it. You need to show them that you are. Show them that rehab did help you and that who you were during those months doesn't define you.”

Those months don't define you.

He’s the first person that has told me that since I left Utah.

“And how do I do that?”

“Show up to games, like you did today. Give them a small peek into your personal life, your struggles, anything you can on social media and in person. Open up about your mom. Hell, get yourself a girl and show them that you’ve settled down and that the drugs are behind you.”

I can’t help but snort a bit at the last statement. “My mom would side with you on the whole finding a girl thing.”

“So do it.” Ben urges.

I’m already shaking my head. “I can’t. One rule of sobriety, no romantic relationships for the first year.”

No romantic relationships. No Sex.

The no sex rule is not a real rule, but it was one I made for myself. One I broke my first night out.

“Then hire a fake one.”

I let out a laugh but when I see his stoic face, it dies down. “You’re serious?”

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