NOAH
My trip to New York City had been uneventful, and it was probably the first time in a long while that I could say that. It seemed as if the only one who scored any action had been Romeo. Even Daxon, who was as single as me, basically watched the dancers at the Vault instead of taking one back to our hotel rooms with us. A few of them caught my eye, but I had a very chick moment, and just wasn’t in the mood so I didn’t even bother.
Once or twice, Gabriel would rag me about Lulu Davis and some supposed chemistry he noticed between us. I had to admit, but only to myself, that I could agree with what he saw, but she was older and married. And I wasn’t even sure which of those two things were worse. Whatever it was, she hadn’t been the reason for my celibacy, which I would remedy soon. I just hadn’t been myself this entire off season, and I suppose the rumors about my being traded were part of it. Staying under the radar while keeping my nose clean was the best way to stay out of the limelight. I didn’t want the general manager or owner to regret keeping me on because I could not imagine ever playing for a team outside of my hometown.
Professional sports was a business, though. Many viewed it as entertainment too, and they were not wrong. Players came and went from teams all around the league. I had been fortunate enough to be drafted and get to play for the team I rooted for my entire life, but others hadn’t been so lucky. In fact, our tight end and two defensive linemen hated our team before they were signed to lucrative contracts. Their entire family switched alliances and it was as if they had been fans all of their lives. I knew the moment that one of them were let go or traded, the fandom would rightfully end.
My name had never come up so often in one off season as it had this one, and I was still frankly uneasy about everything. Gabriel had told me about a Florida team inquiring about my availability, but then they ended up picking up another quarterback in the draft, so I had dodged a huge bullet. Still, I couldn’t quite relax and it was likely the reason for this dark cloud that seemed to stick with me.
“Are you sure there’s nothing on the horizon?” I’d asked Gabriel again as recently as the plane ride back from Manhattan.
“I’ve told you that everything is fine. I’ve even started negotiations on a contract restructuring for you, however they won’t pull the trigger on that unless they get up against the salary cap,” he had replied.
It should have made me feel better, but it didn’t. No matter how good a player you might be, the salary cap was there, and better players than me ended up as casualties. That restlessness was what sent me to a neighborhood bar instead of a club like the Vault with my friends. I just wanted to drink alone, so I dressed down and went immediately to a corner table when I entered the bar. I had no sooner sat down when a nearby table of guys did a double take. I tried my best to ignore them, but was unsuccessful.
“Wait, is that our QB?” The man had asked another at the table.
He looked and even though I was looking straight ahead instead of in their direction, I was still noticeable. I also had on a ball cap, but there was no disguise when my face was plastered on billboards across the town, and in every shoe store in the city.
“It sure as hell is.”
“Hey, Capshaw,” the third man said, and I reluctantly turned toward them.
“Holy shit, it is really you. Will you sign his jersey?”
I had not even seen the fourth man, but he was sure enough wearing one of my jerseys in black. I was about to mention the lack of a pen, but the one who asked presented one. I would need a stronger drink than the beer I had intended on after this. I motioned for him to come over, and I scribbled my usual signature across the number.
“This is my first trip to Chicago and I’m such a huge fan of yours,” he told me before adding, “Thanks so much for this. I’m putting this jersey on my wall as soon as I get home.” As if to let me know how much he valued my signature, he removed the jersey.
“You’re welcome,” I told him, then was saved by the waitress who came over to take my drink order. The man returned to his table, and I smiled at the woman. “A double shot of Calirosa Anejo.”
Seconds later, I was left alone again, and I was glad to see the other table had returned to their previous conversation. Once or twice, they would glance over my way, but neither said anything else to me. My tequila arrived, and I slammed back both shots. After, I was debating on whether to order another or just leave when a phone notification flashed across my screen. It was Daxon, so I pulled it up to see what he wanted. He was likely wondering why I chose a place like this to drown my sorrows instead of hanging out with him at the Vault.
Are you joining us tonight?
I knew it. Hitting reply, I let him know that I wasn’t, then got one in return that had my brow arching.
A few Titans are here, and it looks like Cade Davis is soon to be single.
Wait, what??????
Yeah, he’s drinking with some older Titans, and they’re toasting to his newfound freedom.
That news shouldn’t have made me happy. In fact, I shouldn’t have even given a damn about it, but I did. If he was about to be single, then that meant he and Lulu were divorcing. It would also explain all the PDA he was doing with different women. The man had always been a jerk, and it was something I had noticed back when I was a teenager.
So, are you coming out with us or not?
Not surprising. I’m not in a Vault mood tonight so I’ll catch you all some other time.
I then turned my cell phone off and snapped my fingers at the waitress. I ordered another round, and as she left me, the jersey guy called her over to his table. I didn’t think twice about it until she returned with my drink order.
“By the way, this one is courtesy of those men over there,” she told me.
I looked over to see the four of them standing. I nodded curtly in appreciation, then watched as they left. For the most part, I loved interacting with the fans. As professional players, we did a lot in our community, and giving back to them was a big part of it. On rare occasions, sometimes they gave back to us.
Tonight, I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I slammed back the tequila, then pulled back up my cell phone. I began to peruse the normal sites such as the sports blogs and timelines of friends and acquaintances. Nothing seemed to hold my interest for any period of time. I was truly in a funk. There was only one way out of it, too. Knowing that sex was the ultimate distraction, I was tempted to call one of the women I kept on speed dial.
I thought about the ones I could call, and I had pretty much decided on one of the actresses in a theater production here in Chicago. Mallory could sing opera, and did onstage, but it wasn’t the only time her voice would get high-pitched. Remembering the few times I’d had sex with her, she had nearly shattered glass the last time we were together. She would be the perfect distraction.
I was about to type a message to her, but I heard the sound of breaking glass which stopped me in my tracks. Not sure if it was some unruly patron, or an accident, I looked toward the source of the noise and saw a woman kneeling down to pick the shards up. She was by the bar, and when the bartender shooed her away so he could clean it up, I noticed there was something oddly familiar about the woman, even from the back.
I narrowed my eyes and realized pretty quickly why I thought that. If I didn’t know any better, I would swear that was Lulu Davis. She proved me right the moment she turned around. Her eyes immediately went to mine, and hers widened when she realized who I was. She then turned back around and said something to the bartender. I watched as she threw some bills down onto the counter, then headed to the door. She was unsteady on her feet, her steps staggered. My guess was that she had been drinking for a while and was hammered.
One of the causes my foundation raised money for was drunk driving awareness. I had no idea if she had driven to this bar or not, but seeing her in that state, I quickly got up and threw some bills of my own down on my table. I then rushed to the door and hoped that I could reach her in time. Once outside, I looked both ways, then finally spotted her. She looked to be getting into a car, but as a passenger. I saw the Lyft emblem on the back window, and I called her name.
“Lulu.”
She stopped, then poked her head back out which allowed me to catch up to her. “Where are you going?”
“H-home,” she slurred, and when she nearly fell, I sprang into action. I helped get her settled into the car, then sat down beside her. I rattled off the address to her building, and the driver nodded. Once out in traffic, she looked over at me. “Noah?”
My name came out as a question, and knowing what answers she wanted, I refrained from giving them. I didn’t want to spread her business to the Chicago public which I was sure the sober version of her would later appreciate. “Shhh,” I finally said, before picking up her hand. “We’ll talk once we get you home.”
Lulu didn’t say anything else, but she did cup my face between her hands. They were somewhat cool to the touch, but it didn’t bother me. She then leaned in and hiccupped. I was about to say something, but she began to stroke my cheek, silencing me momentarily. I looked at this woman, and she was unrecognizable. I know a lot of my friends and I would often complain about the various social functions that those like Lucy would invite us to. It was hard to tell her no back then, so we all would just suck it up and go. She would always make her rounds to everyone, making sure to greet them in some way or another. Congeniality was too mild of a word for how she seemed to make everyone feel so welcome, and usually, it was just before she convinced us to open our wallets.
I had never in all of that time even thought about anything with her. To be honest, I shouldn’t be thinking it now, especially with what was likely a nasty divorce. Cade Davis, and men like him, cared about their images and their possessions, and any romantic partners only got that same level of attention when it affected one of those things. I was young, and had done more dumb stuff in my life than I was proud of, but I knew how to treat a woman. My miserable father might not have taught me anything of value in this world other than that.
“Women are to be cherished son. Beside every good man is an even better woman,” he’d constantly told me, and to this day, I knew that advice to be true.
I knew nothing about Lucy Davis, or the life she had with her previous husband. All I did know was that he had been the unfaithful one, and openly flaunted it until it was time to turn the tables on her. I could only imagine what he would do if he had been the one tonight to have caught her at the bar in this condition. I had to get her home, then make sure she was okay, before I could leave. I would do that much, not to spite Cade, but because it was who I was.