3
NICO
Saint: Judgement day, Lover boy. Do you think they’re going to put you on a short leash and keep you tethered to Waggers for the season.
Diva: Nah. They wouldn’t do that. He’d like it too much.
Me: Screw you both. My life is on the line here. I’m about to step into a meeting that could change my future forever. What if they send me to a place where monks live?
Diva: You mean a monastery?
Saint: Who’s being the drama queen now? Calm down. They’re probably just going to put you on probation. Just keep your dick in your pants for a few months and they’ll forget all about you slamming a shot from the cleavage of the waitress with the big tits.
Me: No sex? Guys…this is worse than I thought. I’ll die without sex. Like, literally!
M y legs bounce like a crackhead coming down from a high as I sit in Mr. Montgomery’s luxurious office.
The worn, brown leather chairs are the definition of old money with their gold accents and ornate details.
Each one of us –Mr. Montgomery, Coach Wagner and myself– sit around a large oak conference table as we wait for the person who is going to “clean up my antics” and put me in a nice and tidy, guy-next-door package.
In other words, we’re waiting for the guy who will seal my fate and turn my life from exciting and thrill-filled, to boring and predictable.
I heard Mr. Montgomery and Coach talking about a man named Ramon, and visions of a rough guy with tattoos with plans to beat me into submission flooded my mind.
I need to remind these two that I’m far too pretty to take any damage to the face.
My body may be the money maker, but my face is what helps keep my bed warm at night.
“Now you know I like you, kid,” Mr. Montgomery begins. “But this nonsense about you showing off your wiener to every Mary, Sue and Jenny has got to stop.”
I gulp down the bitter pill of embarrassment and nod. “Yes, sir. I understand completely. And I promise you. I will no–”
The sound of the door creaking on its hinges stops me mid-sentence, and we all turn our heads.
Mr. Montgomery’s secretary steps aside and as if in the pivotal slow-motion scene in a movie, a cream colored strappy heel attached to a shapely leg enters first. Perfect toes are painted with a bright coral polish and for the first time in my life, I want to suck them into my mouth.
Feet are not my thing, but these are more than just that of a woman’s foot. These belong to a goddess.
My eyes are hyper focused as they inch up, admiring smooth, tan skin.
The hem of a fitted skirt that matches the shoes, spans from knees to high waist, and I eat up every delicious inch.
A mens-like striped button top would probably seem stuffy and uptight, but this one is sexy.
The sleeves hang open and wide at the wrist adorned with delicate gold bracelets.
Layered gold chains are wrapped around a slender neck, and the perfect package is complete when I see her face.
Her almond shaped brown eyes are exotic, her lips are plump and lined in red, and minimal makeup lets her true beauty shine.
In short, this woman is the most exquisite creature I have ever laid eyes on.
If she were a prize, she’d be the Lombardi trophy.
The holy grail of praise that for decades, men have fought tooth and nail, shed blood, sweat and tears for.
Chairs squeak as Coach and Mr. Montgomery stand, and I quickly follow suit. My feet get tangled and I feel like an uncoordinated chump in her presence. Not at all like the smooth Romeo I normally am.
I don’t know who this woman is, but I intend to make a good impression on her. Maybe she’ll spank me into submission and call me her good boy. I’m usually the one doing the spanking, but if this is my punishment for misbehaving, I need to find some mayhem to cause.
“Val,” Mr. Montgomery boasts and glides towards her.
“Hello Monty. So wonderful to finally meet you.”
Fuck . Even her voice is perfect. Sultry and a bit raspy. It must sound phenomenal screaming out in the throes of passion.
“Gentlemen. Please say hello to Valentina San Ramón.” Mr. Montgomery places his hand just below her shoulders and ushers her towards us.
San Ramón? Here I was thinking I was about to get my bell rung by a man with fists the size of Mike Tyson’s when in reality, they sent an angel.
Coach is the first to greet her, holding out a hand and wearing a smile that’s a mile wide. “William Wagner. Head coach of the Houston Drillers. So nice to meet you.”
“Coach Wagner. Pleasure.”
She shakes his hand, a polite smile on her face, and I wait my turn like a little boy who’s next in line for the ferris wheel. But that joy quickly fades when her warm smile turns to ice when she turns her attention to me.
“And you must be Nico.” She does not smile or hold out her hand for me to take, and the glare is like a spotlight shining on a suspect during interrogation.
“Nico Loving. Nice to meet you Mrs. San Ramón.” I play the part of the gentleman my parents raised, and hold my hand out to her.
She stares at it like my hand is coated in biohazard material before finally sliding her palm against mine. She has a firm grip, one that comes from years of keeping up in a man’s world and not wanting to appear weak, and it’s such a contradiction to her soft skin.
“No missus. Just Valentina, please.” She drops her hand and Mr. Montgomery pulls out a seat for her, directly across from me.
No doubt so she can stare into my soul and find out all of my secrets. That is her job, so I’ve heard.
She sits and places a leather bag on the table in front of her, and reaches in, producing a notepad and pen. It’s very old school. I expected some high tech laptop that, with the click of a button, all my dirty deeds would be projected across the room.
“Monty. Coach Wagner. I have done some research about your…situation, and come up with a plan to turn Nico from a reckless playboy, to a respectable community role model.”
Reckless? Who said I was reckless? I’ve had some fun, sure, but I have never endangered anyone. I mean, there was that one time on the freeway and Emily’s head got stuck under the steering wheel when my thighs flexed as I shot off in her mouth. But when my muscles relaxed, she was just fine.
“You must be a miracle worker if you can pull that off,” Coach muses, looking at me from the corner of his eye.
“And tell me, Val. Exactly how do you plan to turn this young man into one this organization can be proud of?”
“Well, Monty,” she replies and I wonder who the hell Monty is. “This may seem counterproductive to what we are trying to accomplish, but I think our best route is to make him a committed man.”
“What?” All three of us men reply, each in various degrees of shock.
“Hear me out. Nico is seen as a womanizer. A man who is using his new found fame as a free pass to slip in and out of women’s beds. Think about the type of attention that draws.”
“The wrong kind,” Mr. Montgomery quickly adds.
With the tip of her pen she pokes it in the air at him, dotting the exclamation.
“Exactly. That image has young men wanting to mirror the bad behavior, and the wrong type of women flocking to him. We need him to project an image of stability, reliability. Let’s get the kids striving to be like their hero which, in turn, will have parents buying the jersey’s.
Sponsors will want this cleaned up man as the face of their product.
He will become a leader, on and off the field.
Throw in some well-timed pictures during community service and events, and you have the new and improved Nico Loving… Houston’s Hero.”
She ends her speech, spreading her hands wide like she’s revealing a sign behind a velvet curtain. Mr. Montgomery and Coach Kiss-Ass begin applauding. This isn’t some fucking Broadway play.
This is my life .
She wants me, at the fresh age of twenty-two, to settle down with one woman and give the illusion of a happy, monogamous and committed relationship? I’d sooner pluck out my ball hairs one by one than settle for one chick.
“So do you have a list of available women who are willing to participate in this image makeover?” Coach asks.
“I’ve got a great-niece that’s a peach and would be the perfect candidate.” Mr. Montgomery pulls his phone from his pocket and makes like he’s about to make the call, right here and now.
“There are a few ladies I already have in mind. They’ve all agreed to a meet and greet this Tu–”
“Hey wait a minute.” I push up from the table, my voice rising to a very non-respectable decibel. “This is my life. Don’t I get a say in it? There are plenty of other ways for me to fix this. ”
Valentina’s eyebrow arches and she purses her perfectly pouty lips. “Is that right? And what would you suggest?”
I square my shoulders and stiffen my neck, ready to fight for what I want.
“Community events are a great way to be seen as the good guy in the public eye. You know, the kids stuff. I can help a few grannies out with groceries, maybe plant a garden with a local school. Things like that. My buddy, Nik Papas, is a saint. He does stuff like that all the time, and he has a great reputation.”
“Sure, but has he been seen getting a blow-job from a woman while speeding down the highway?” She’s blunt, paying no mind to the company we are in the presence of.
I grapple for words, knowing there is no explaining myself out of that one.
“That’s what I thought. And since I’m the expert at cleaning up messes people like you make, I say we stick to my plan. That is,” she moves her gaze between each of us. “If Monty and Coach Wagner approve.”
“If you think this is what will get the job done, you have my backing.” Mr. Montgomery pats the top of her hand and tosses her a wink.
“I’m in agreement with Monty. Whatever it takes, we’re in. And by we I mean all three of us. Right, Nic?” Coach’s pointed look burns a hole through me, and I know I’ve got no fighting chance at changing their minds.
With a sigh of defeat, I slump my shoulders and fall back into my chair. “Does it really matter what I think? I’m not the one signing my paycheck or calling the plays. So I guess…do with me what you will.”
With a saucy smile and a shake of her head, her shiny black strands rippling like water, Val regals in her victory. “Perfect. We begin tomorrow.”
Maybe I should make a little visit to Lascivious and do a preemptive stress relief.
I have a strong feeling I’m going to need it.