Chapter 4
Dasher
Poppy’s boss is different than what I thought.
He has an uppity stature, and I’m not sure how I can explain it.
Like he holds himself as if he’s too good for the room, but then he seems to be a real person, sitting with average joes.
Okay, I’m not an average joe, but I’m nowhere near his level.
I also don’t have a problem hanging out with ordinary, everyday people.
Poppy only brought me so she could flex.
She wanted people to see that she was going to be living the high life once I started getting paid. I’m not dumb.
I just wasn’t expecting Raine. He sat down with us, seemed interested in what I had to say.
I did notice Poppy practically glowing when he said her name.
If I didn’t know any better, I would think she has a crush on him.
Am I worried? Yeah, kind of. He’s better looking than me, more polished than me, definitely has more money than me.
In a way, I’m jealous. And I have no idea why I said yes to a hockey game with him.
When I did, Poppy seemed a little angry, like I was stepping into something I shouldn’t have.
But the guy has a pull that seems to draw people in.
Poppy wanted to go out, but I have to start preparing for the season. We have tomorrow off, so I plan on taking it easy. Monday is our first game, and it’s my debut. Vegas is counting on me and if I want to keep my job, I can’t let the team down.
Once I’m home, I take my suit off, slipping on some sweatpants and my slippers.
Walking down to the living room that is free from all the dresses that took up every corner earlier, I turn on the TV.
The kickoff game is tomorrow, Salt Lake City versus San Antonio.
I plan on watching, taking notes since they are teams we play.
Maybe I’ll invite Tyler, Dade, and Jester over.
Tyler is a tight end, Dade is a running back, and Jester is my center.
They were drafted last year and welcomed me with open arms. It would be a good bonding experience.
I text the guys and set my phone down when there is a knock on the door.
Opening it, I’m surprised to see Raine, Poppy’s boss, standing at my door.
He looks different in gray sweats, a tee shirt, and running shoes, “sorry, I looked up Poppy’s address. Can I come in?”
Not sure why he’s here, I move aside and let him in. I watch him as he takes a look at the house I bought. It’s not big, but it’s in a gated community. Poppy has it looking like one of those homes out of a magazine. I hate it, but I don’t say anything because that would just cause a fight.
“Nice place,” he finally says, and I snort.
“Probably not as nice as yours,” I reply and then wince, “sorry, that was rude.”
He shrugs, “I don’t really care for materialistic things.” Well, that’s different.
I gesture to the couch, “would you like to sit? Water, beer?” I know how to be a good host.
He surprises me, “beer would be great.” I walk to the kitchen and pull out a couple of beers, trying to figure out why he’s here.
Handing him one, I sit on the other end of the couch, waiting for him to talk.
“I know this is weird,” he starts, “but I thought we could get to know one another better.”
I point to myself, “you want to know me?” He shakes his head up and down.
“I know what it’s like to be you, coming into money, not knowing who your friends are, or who is just using you.
” Okay, he kind of is a mind reader, because every day I think that about Poppy.
Well, I know that about Poppy. If I never got drafted, she would have left me. Why am I in this relationship?
“Yeah, that would be cool. I’m having some friends over tomorrow to watch the kickoff game. You can join us if you want.” I watch as he leans back in the chair and smiles, “that would be nice.”
I feel my cheeks heat up as he stares me up and down, it’s then I realize I don’t have a shirt on. I go to get up, but he tells me to stop, “I don’t mind.”
And for some reason, I stop and sit down.
He grabs the remote and puts on some sports talk show and we settle in.
I find him to be really cool, easy to talk to, and we have the same thoughts on players in the league.
We talk for hours until it’s almost two in the morning.
I didn’t even realize Poppy didn’t come home. Oh well.
He throws the beer in the trash, “I’ll bring some food, see you tomorrow.” When I shut the door, I have this feeling that I really want to see him tomorrow.