IRVING TITANS UPDATE! It has been loaded up to Amazon. Waiting on them to approve it for preorder. Launch date is January 24th! Here's another chapter.
CHAPTER 3
NEW REGIME
One Week Later
“Robert,
you’re such a dear. However can Charlene repay you?”
He
zipped his jeans up then pulled his shirt on. “I think you’re paid in full.”
“Are
you sure?” She jiggled her chest at him.
“Well,
maybe we can have a threesome some day. I know the perfect gal. She’s a
waitress at…”
The
smile from her face vanished. She moved to within six inches of his sweating
body and sucker punched him. He bent over gasping for breath.
“Look
here, Robert Shit. If Charlene isn’t enough for you, maybe your girlfriend or
even better, your current employer would like to know what you do on your days off.”
The
fire evaporated from his eyes. “Charlene, if you weren’t so damn good, I’d…”
“You’d
what? Find another bimbo to bang? Fat chance. I’ve got you by the short hairs
and don’t think I won’t yank on them.”
“Fine,
fine. It was only an idea.”
“And
an offensive one at that. I do have standards, Robert.” Her voice returned to
her sultry self. She rubbed up against him with her hand massaging his crotch.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
He
removed the tape from his shirt pocket. “When do you think you’ll use it?”
“Don’t
worry yourself with things you don’t understand.” She walked over to her purse
and dropped it in, then moved back to him re-cupping his crotch. “I think this
deserves a small celebration.” She unzipped his jeans sliding her mouth down
his chest.
He
could only utter two words, Oh shit!
* *
*
“Reuben,
sooner or later the press is going to get wind of what’s up.”
“Marshall,
that’s my problem, not yours.”
“I’ll
disagree with that. I’ve moved out of Florida and bought a new house here.”
“You
did what? Was I not specific about housing? No one is supposed to buy a house
until I make the announcement. I can control a lot of things, but I can’t control
County Records, you idiot! Firing Coach Osborn is going to be delicate enough,
without the press finding out you purchased a home in Preston Oaks. How long do
you think before someone looking for their five minutes of fame will leak the
story?”
“Hang
on a minute. I told you when I took the job I was going to buy a house. If you
thought we were going to live in an extended stay for another six months, you
lost your fucking mind. A few months are okay, but we’ve had enough. You don’t
live with Rachael. She was going stir crazy in that two-thousand square foot
dump.”
“Maybe
you should have left her in Florida. There are plenty of hot things running
around this town. Who wouldn’t give up their virginity to the top coach in
college football?”
“Look,
Reuben. I can get whatever I want on the side, but leaving her isn’t an option.
You think she wouldn’t rake my ass over the coals and take over half of my hard
earned money? If so, then you aren’t as smart as I thought.”
“Alright,
alright. This isn’t getting us anywhere. I’ll have to move my timetable up. And
you’re right. We have a team to rebuild and having you going through a divorce
in Florida would cause unnecessary delays. Now, what about the upcoming draft?
Have you identified who we’re targeting?”
“Yes.
The kid from UCLA, Sammy Holmes. He’s the gunslinger we want.”
“What
makes him so special? Is this the same kid who transferred from Kansas?”
“Yes.
When he realized the passing game would never work out there under Coach
Barringer, he transferred out west and flourished.”
“What
about the kids from USC and Notre Dame?”
“The
kid from USC is a real head case. He knows where he wants to play and it’s not
in Irving. Also, I don’t want to get in a bidding war with other teams. His
agent is a real ass. I need the kid we draft on board from day one. The kid
from Notre Dame is too short. No, we want the one from UCLA.”
“Okay.
Put him on the board as number one. What about receivers, offensive lineman and
the whole damn defense?”
“Reuben,
you worry too much. I’ve already pegged the players we want.”
“How
do you know they’ll be around when it’s our turn to pick?”
“Reuben,
we’ve got thirteen first round picks. What do you think?”
“Yes
we do. Okay, what about a running back?”
“I’m
not worried about that right now. I need to establish a minor passing game and
a strong offensive line before we go chasing the top backs. I’ve got my eye on
a kid from South Carolina, but he’s not coming out this year. Something about
actually wanting to get a degree or some shit like that.”
“Seriously?
The kid wants to obtain a degree? Since when did an education pay-off on the
field?”
“None
that I can think of.”
“Exactly.
I hope he doesn’t get hurt. If he does, what’s your back-up plan?”
“Don’t
have one yet.”
“I
suggest you get one.”
* *
*
I
was drinking a cold beer watching my favorite movie, Patton, when the
phone rang.
“This
is Jimmy.”
“This
is Coach Williams.”
“Who?”
“Coach
Williams. I’m the new quarterback coach for the Titans.”
“You’re
shitting me?”
“Why
would I do that?”
“Because
we don’t have a Coach Williams.” This guy’s starting to piss me off.
“Says
who, asshole.”
“Says
the new owner.”
“Yeah,
well, I haven’t heard a word about it and until Coach Osborn tells me
otherwise, do me a favor, Coach.”
“What’s
that?”
“Go
fuck yourself. You’re interrupting, Patton.” I hung up thinking the
voice sounded a bit familiar.
Skip
Hawkins slammed his phone down. “Dammit. I’ll break that son-of-a-bitch if it’s
the last thing I do. He knows more than he’s saying. And, I’ll take that bitch
Charlene with him.”
Skip
was at the top of his game in 1978 when he ripped open the home town Badgers
with the biggest scandal to rock the NCAA since OSU’s fall from grace. He
single handedly exposed how the university was paying players with scholarships,
cash, cars and girls to propel the university to #1 in the polls. His hard
hitting investigative reporting allowed him to almost name his price with the
ABC affiliate he worked for.
All
of his well laid plans and claim to fame almost came crashing down. As a
reporter, he didn’t need to disclose his sources. He never thought a source
would threaten to disclose him. But then, he didn’t know Charlene, like he did
now.
When
he was digging up dirt on the Badgers, one name kept popping up—Charlene
Rivers. With a lot of gum-shooing, and for the first time in his career, real
investigating, he found her. She was a real looker, but more important, he
needed to know what was hiding under her beehive. It took three meetings with
her before she laid out the whole scheme. He originally thought the Badgers
rise to prominence was based on local exuberant boosters, but when he saw the
trail led to the state capitol, he could barely contain himself. It was a story
for the ages, and maybe even a shot at the big boys in New York. His price for
the information; a harmless tryst with Charlene.
At first, it was harmless, and then she called.
Her message was short and simple: $75,000 a year or she tells his wife the
story with pictures, no words.
Since
then, he’d been keeping tabs on her and when he realized how much time she
spent with Jimmy Stone, it was the perfect sounding box for getting even. He
would take every opportunity during his sports cast to point out Jimmy’s pathetic
performances. He might not bring her down head-on, but if he could start
whittling away at the fringes, he hoped to make her life a little less
enjoyable.
He signed
his name on the check, placed it in the envelope and stamped it—hard.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Feel free to leave a comment.