Chapter 5 #2
The bus stopped near the long driveway that led to the stadium and I walked over to the security booth there.
A guard in an orange uniform came out. “Guest of Victoria Mellow?” he called.
When he heard that I was, he gave me a ride in a golf cart and I didn’t have to hike the rest of the way.
He seemed to be a nice guy but he blushed every time I talked to him, so I didn’t get a lot of information.
And if I knew anything from LA, it was that people in positions like his were usually aware of more than you could have guessed.
The man who did patrols in Damian’s neighborhood knew before the rest of us that Millie was sleeping with Matheus, the bodyguard.
He didn’t tell, either, not until our New Year’s Eve party.
He had shown up there due to a noise complaint from one of our neighbors, but stayed to smoke a bowl and do a few shots.
After that, he’d shared all kinds of information about members of our household and about other people on our street. Millie had him fired on January second.
The guys in the booth here at the stadium must have called Victoria, because she was already at her car and he drove me right over. “Thank you,” I told him, and he blushed again before waving goodbye.
“He gets tongue-tied around you WAGs,” she said as he puttered back toward the road.
Was that me, now? Callum and I were still playing that role for the public.
We weren’t making sex tapes and leaking them, but our fake relationship was clear from what I wrote about him and how we acted in the videos, like posing with our arms around each other and me kissing his cheek.
I checked everything for accuracy and it did look very real.
“Where do you want to go for drinks?” I asked and as I got into her car, she told me about Roy’s Tavern.
“It’s big meet-up spot for the Woodsmen because the former QB’s wife owns it. How much do you know about the past players?”
“Is that important?” I wondered.
It was. Very. “People will expect you to be up on the current Woodsmen for sure, but you should study the older guys, too. I know you’re trying to make a good impression with the fans,” she explained. “They’ll be disappointed if you’re not aware of the lore.”
“Ok, thanks,” I said. “Is there anything else I should study? People I should meet?” Millie had always talked about connections in Hollywood, how they were everything. Favors and nepotism controlled the town.
Victoria told me about other WAGs, the ones who were supposed to be the nicest, and she had a list of stadium employees whose names I needed to learn.
“If you’re friends with Lyle, the head of security?
” Her eyes widened and she raised her eyebrows.
“Then you’re gold. The man knows everyone and everything.
” She also told me about two Woodsmen media figures, Herb and Buzz.
They did the radio calls for the games and for local TV broadcasts, but they also had a weekly podcast that everyone in this area listened to and practically memorized.
“Herb was talking about your guy,” she told me, smiling.
“What?”
“He brought up that he’s been hearing scuttlebutt about a new man on the offensive line, Callum Frazier,” Victoria explained.
“I don’t know what scuttle…did you say scuttlebutt? I don’t know what that is.”
“They talk kind of weird,” she agreed. “He just meant that there’s hype surrounding Callum, that he’s good. It’s big news when Herb and Buzz are talking about a player on their podcast. I don’t think I can put into words how respected they are.”
“Wow,” I said, smiling. “That is big news. I’ll start listening to all their back episodes.”
She nodded. “There are still a few influential fan websites, and there are several social media people that we all follow. You probably already found them.”
I nodded back. I had been researching and tagging other accounts, trying to get more views.
“And the Woodsmen PR people will also repost your stuff once Callum makes the team,” she continued.
“Have you heard any scuttlebutt about his chances?”
“Me?” She laughed a little. “In terms of the team, I’m very low in the pecking order. I hear stuff thrown around the employee lunchroom but it’s mostly people trying to sound more important than they actually are.”
I understood that. The same thing had gone on when groups of “insiders” had gossiped at LA clubs and parties, trying to one-up each other with their private knowledge about the music and film industries. It was all bull because they didn’t really know anything at all.
“Not even the returning players have seen the list,” she continued. “They might have ideas, but they’re not sure, either.”
Despite her inability to help with Callum’s roster status, I was happy to hear what she’d said about the podcast and to learn more about how their fan culture worked. It was fun to hang out with her, in general.
When we got to Roy’s, we took a table and I asked for a White Russian with non-fat milk. Victoria looked a little disgusted when she heard my order. “You don’t want real cream in that?”
I thought of Millie and the calorie app on her phone. “It’s just a habit,” I explained. “I got used to people monitoring my diet.”
“Callum?” Now she looked horrified and I immediately jumped to his defense.
“No! He’s not interested in looks.”
“I don’t know,” she said, suddenly grinning. “I bet he likes how you look.”
“No, you don’t get it,” I told her. “He’s not a person who gets caught up in that.
Like, with my hair? He keeps telling me to put it in a bun because then it won’t blow in my eyes.
He doesn’t care that it looks dumb or that it’s sexier when it’s down.
He never tells me to exercise more and he never watches me weigh myself to make sure that I haven’t gained.
Even putting on part of a pound would make some people absolutely nutso, but I haven’t been on a scale in so long and he hasn’t even mentioned it. ”
“Why would anyone do that?” She shook her head. “Did you used to go out with a real dick?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “My old boyfriend was really a dick. He didn’t let me eat.”
“What?” Her mouth dropped open in shock. “What do you mean?”
“Just, like, desserts,” I said quickly. “That’s all. Are you seeing anyone?”
She’d been dating a little, but her son was taking up her attention.
“Finley’s dad met a woman. Beau and I weren’t ever in a relationship, we just got together sometimes,” she explained.
“One of those times resulted in a baby.” She finished her drink.
“His girlfriend is great and she loves Fin, but I haven’t found a person like that for myself. I’m not sure if I really want anyone.”
“I know what you mean,” I agreed. It was often better to be single.
Victoria stared at me. “You do?” she asked. “You have a boyfriend.” She sounded confused and that immediately got me backtracking.
“I know that there are a lot of assholes out there, that’s what I mean,” I said quickly. “So many. Maybe I’ll meet some nice football players and I could introduce you.”
“My good friend is married to a guy on the defense and she already tried that, but thanks anyway. I think I just need to give myself some time and hopefully, I’ll come across a guy who’s good enough for Finley.”
I thought that was kind of a crazy idea: she was putting her kid’s needs before her own. I nodded, impressed.
We finished our drinks and she was probably right that I should have gotten a real White Russian, because the non-fat milk had curdled.
We talked more about the team, about the town, and about her son.
She had lots of pictures of him and I loved to see those.
She also had questions about clothes and fashion, like what I wore, how I styled it, and if I’d done any work in that arena in the past. I managed not to say that I’d never had a real job, and instead I talked about picking outfits for Millie and Sage, shopping for Damian, and remaking my thrift store finds (I still needed to get a sewing machine).
Then she drove me to the Woodsmen practice facility, which she swore wasn’t out of her way—but it had to have been, because it was in the middle of nowhere with only a little diner nearby.
“Thanks for coming out with me,” she said as I unclicked my seat belt.
There was a long line of cars in front of the orange building and a large crowd of people, too.
Fans liked to hang out here to get a glimpse of the players.
“Thanks for inviting me,” I said. “I hope to see you again.”
“Yeah, definitely,” she promised. A car behind her honked, so I said bye and she got on her way.
I waited with the throng and we all watched as players started to emerge.
Most of them waved to the fans and some came over to the fence to sign autographs and talk.
There was a big commotion when two guys walked out together.
I recognized one of them, and I yelled for him: “Callum! Callum Frazier!” Strangely, he was carrying a brightly colored gift bag that said “Happy Birthday” and was covered in dinosaurs, but he wasn’t turning twenty-six until March.
Everyone else was yelling for the other guy, who was a team veteran. They both walked to the fence together and that player was mobbed by hands reaching out to shake and holding papers and shirts to sign. Callum stepped back and looked at the crowd, and then he saw me.
“What are you doing over there?” he called. “Step up on that rock and I’ll lift you over.”
I was wearing my jean shorts so there was no chance of flashing anyone. That kind of publicity could have helped eventually but not right now, not when he wasn’t yet on the roster. When you were established, you had more leeway—but I had to think that he would never want attention like that.
“Will this hurt your shoulder?” I asked, but he scoffed.
“Come here,” he told me, so I did let him pick me up and swing me high into the air over the fence. “You ready to go?”