Limping in through the front door, Chris slipped his shoes off, dropping his keys, wallet, and cell phone onto the table by the door.
He wasn’t at all displeased with the direction that his life had taken, but part of him still wished he hadn’t torn up his knee junior year. He’d been a tight end in college, and a Heisman candidate. He could still remember that moment so clearly, the excruciating pain of the helmet crashing into his knee cap at full speed. Lying on the field, unable to move, wracked with pain, he’d known his knee was shot. He’d known his football career was over before it even began.
He’d stayed in school and finished his degree, but hadn’t known what to do with it. What did one do with a marketing degree in Wauchula, FL? Especially one that most people thought you probably didn’t earn. People had been convinced he’d been passed for the sake of the team. He’d been a decent student. Probably not the best, but definitely not an idiot.
When Jim had called him about starting a company, he’d been completely floored. It had been a few years since they’d spoken. He wasn’t even sure how Jim had gotten his number, but he’d realized that this was probably the only person willing to take him seriously. He’d jumped at the opportunity, just like Deacon had. A couple somewhat scary, lean years later, and JDC had been born.
He was currently CIO for the boutique PR agency. They worked mostly with athletes and sports teams, but they were constantly branching out. Between them, they were pursuing more contacts in Hollywood, software developers, and video game companies. They were trying to work with other corporations too, and shed their boutique image.
His current place was a million light years away from the grimy place that the three of them, along with Chloe, had rented when they first came out there. It wasn’t in the best neighborhood, and had been pretty run down. Deacon had done his best to make it a home for Chloe, but she’d had really unconventional teenage years. She’d been a bit of a mess with all of the shit her Mom put her through.
About the time she turned fifteen, they’d all started making decent money. Deacon had moved out, and gotten an apartment for the two of them. He’d been able to move into his own place, and Jim decided to buy a house in Sherman Oaks. Looking back, he suspected that Jim probably had only stuck it out with them for so long because he knew they were both scraping by. Chris knew that he’d come into some money, hence the giant building, but he’d never been sure how much.
Walking into the master bath, he turned the water on and wandered into the kitchen to grab a beer.
He’d seen her periodically after that, but not nearly as much. He remembered one day—she’d been about twenty—she’d come in the office to visit Deacon and he’d been checking her out. He hadn’t realized til she turned around that it was her. She’d been wearing these black leggings and a red sweater dress that had hugged her body. She’d grown her hair out. It was halfway down her back and that same dark brown, pin straight. She’d had these glasses on, black frames that gave her a naughty librarian look. He’d felt like a dirty old man when he realized who she was.
Shaking his head, he acknowledged that he still felt like a dirty old man. He’d been twenty-nine or thirty at the time. Way too fucking old for her. She was a bit older now, but so was he.
Seeing that the tub had filled, he flipped on the jets, then shucked his clothes. Lowering himself into swirling water, he groaned when he felt the pressure ease in his knee almost immediately. Taking a swig of beer, he drifted, trying to disconnect his brain from thoughts of Chloe.
Once the tension had fully drained from his body, he just lay there for a while. Eventually he felt himself drifting off to sleep, then decided it was best to get out of the tub. Drying off, he wrapped his knee in an Ace bandage and got dressed. Moving out to park on the couch in front of his PS3, he grabbed the remote.
A few hours wasted on Gridiron 2013, he decided to order some Chinese food and watch television. Finding a mob movie on television, he waited for the delivery guy to arrive. One order of sweet and sour pork and an egg roll later, he felt his eyes drifting closed. Finding no particular reason to fight sleep anymore, he dozed off for a bit. He woke about forty-five minutes later, wide awake.
Reenergized now, he packed his suitcase for tomorrow’s flight to San Francisco. He’d be up there for a couple of days meeting with the folks from Innova Gaming. The deal that Deacon struck with Cynertex had opened new doors for them. He was flying up tomorrow to look at their current marketing scheme for their new line of sports games. Because of JDC’s already massive presence in the sports marketing world, he was certain that they’d be able to help Innova tap into some otherwise unreachable markets.
Grabbing his toiletry bag, he zipped up the suitcase, and added a clean suit to his garment bag. After moving both over to the chair in the corner of his bedroom, he sat down at the desk and checked his e-mail. He responded to a couple, then decided he didn’t feel like working at the moment.
Hopping on Facebook, he scrolled through until he saw a picture of Deacon asleep in his recliner. Recognizing that Chloe must have taken it at some point this afternoon, he clicked on the picture, then went through the rest. She’d gotten one of Sara yawning. Sara was probably gonna be pissed when she saw it. He tagged her in it, laughing.
The next one was of him, concentrating on his cell phone. He had been playing that stupid trivia game that had drained his cell battery. He liked it, and commented that Sara was going to kick her ass.
Almost immediately, she responded with an instant message, saying, “Yeah. She’s going to hate me for a minute. I turned around and no one was paying attention to the game but me, so I figured I’d snap a few pictures.”
Snorting, he immediately responded, “At least I’m not making a stupid face. I suppose you can leave mine up.”
He imagined her laughing at him, and wasn’t surprised when she responded back saying, “Like I was going to take it down.”
“Feeling any less pissed off now?” Chris asked, referring back to her comments about the breakup earlier.
“Yeah. Definitely,” Chloe said, “He was pushing the relationship, pushed me to meet his parents, then dumped me when his Mom didn’t approve. It was going to fail anyway. Better to know now.”
“Probably. You guys had been dating for a while. Meeting the parents isn’t outside the norm, is it?”
“I just want a guy to hang out with that wants to fuck me silly. Meeting parents is way more than I’m looking for right now.”
Chris stared at the screen, speechless for a minute, then finally said, “Yep. He’s a moron.”
“Thanks for checking in on me. I appreciate it. By the way, how’s your knee doing? You were limping earlier today.”
“I didn’t think it was that noticeable.”
“I noticed. Sorry,” Chloe said.
“No worries. I’m not sure why. I must have slept funny or something. I soaked it when I got home, and it’s much better. Thanks,” he responded.
“You’re welcome. I’m gonna head to bed. I have to go to work early.”