Laine’s List Chapter Forty
Nick
As Chip walks across the bar, his eyes catch and hold on every reflective surface. When those aren’t available to allow him to admire his own reflection, his eyes dart around to catalog who else is admiring him as he saunters to my table. I’ve never spent much time evaluating the looks of dudes but I guess Chip isn’t offensive, and a solid number of women in tight dresses and lots of makeup linger on his frame. Then again, those women could be mistaking Chip for one of the Mustangs; which means he could look like a troll and smell like yesterday’s dirty socks, and they’d still be interested in his jock.
I wonder what drew Lainey to him. Was it his wallet? His potential for fame? Was she just a big jock chaser? None of that added up for me. She wouldn’t accept monetary help from Charlie or me. She didn’t, as far as I knew, date any Mustangs, even though there were plenty who had made offers to her while she slung drinks at the bar.
But why Chip? And why those pictures? He’d shoved a few of them in my face and said I could have the rest when I met with him.
I couldn’t get them out of my head, and I needed to because I had a game in less than twenty-four hours. If I couldn’t get focused, I was going to play like crap on a day that I needed to be heroic on the field. One more game and we had home field advantage throughout the playoffs. One more game, and Chip springs this shit on me? Does he remember that we’re playing on the same team? Sure, he’s a coach, but the goal is the same for each and every one of us—win the ring.
Chip toting an envelope full of salacious pictures of Lainey isn’t progressing us toward that goal because instead of thinking about the nickel defense, I’m fantasizing about catapulting from my chair and beating the piss out of Chip. I wonder how fast the video of that would go up on Twitter. Five seconds? Ten?
I grind my back molars as Chip reaches me. He slides into a chair without fear. Why didn’t he play like that on the field? It was his hesitation that got him beat more than once. Then I notice the rapid pulse in his neck, the light sheen of sweat near his hairline, and the nervous movements of his fingers as he taps the envelope.
He’s anxious. It’s a mix of excitement but also of fear and that settles me more than anything. Leaning back, I throw an arm across the top of the velvet banquette.
“More game film?” I say easily.
His eyebrows furrow and my confidence grows. He thought I’d be the nervous and scared one. Not today, son. Not today.
He chokes out a smart-ass laugh. “If we’re talking about the fucking game, I guess so.” He slides the envelope across the table. I don’t make any move toward it. Instead, I keep my eyes on him.
“What’s the point of this?”
“The pictures? I’m trying to save you, man.” He clasps his hands together and leans forward. “This girl is toxic and these pictures are just to show you exactly how. Or maybe you’re into the orgy thing, which, hey, is none of my business, but this sort of thing can really be a distraction. And you know what Coach says.” He invites me to finish his sentence but I’m not playing any games with him, not even fill-in-the-blank.
He makes a small face. “Anyway, obviously, no distractions. Elaina Valdez is a big fucking distraction; not to mention the girl probably carries around more diseases than a ship carries sailors, am I right?”
“No.”
Confusion sets in. “What do you mean, no?”
“I mean, no, I don’t believe Lainey is a distraction or that she is likely to be a carrier of an STD anymore than I am; and we both know from my constant health reports that I’m a perfect physical specimen. What about you?”
He jerks back, shaking his head as he tries to catch the reins of this conversation. “I’m clean.”
“So you say.” I slide the pictures away from Chip and place my palm on them. He’s got extras. In this digital age, pictures never disappear but at least these won’t be in his possession.
“Well, I am,” he insists.
“I don’t care. Tell me why Lainey. What do you have against her?”
He fumes for a moment, wanting me to agree that he, too, is in perfect condition but then realizes how far astray he is from his original plan, whatever that was. “I’ve got nothing against her. I’m trying to protect you.”
“By printing out pictures of Lainey with other people? Those pictures will embarrass her. They don’t impact me at all. So I’ve got to wonder why you’re so concerned with one waitress who you don’t even particularly like. Unless…” I trail off. Unless those pictures aren’t about harassing Lainey at all but rather they’re about affecting me. “Jesus, this isn’t about the girl at all, is it?”
He throws up his hands. “Finally, yes! It’s all about protecting you and your image. I don’t want–”
I hold up a palm to cut him off. “It’s about the fact that you’re jealous as fuck that I took over your position. You could give two shits about Lainey. You want to get into my head and see me fail. You’d probably love it if I lost my head and threw a few punches. I’d get suspended. The media would crucify me. Old rumors about me not being a team player would be dredged up.”
Chip’s face turns white. “N-no,” he stutters. “That’s not why I brought this up at all. I want to win.”
“That may be the single truthful thing you’ve said since you sat down. You do want to win but you’re not in the limelight anymore, and it’s killing you that your back up is.” I push the table back, far enough that it punches Chip in the gut. Standing up, I pick up the envelope and fold it in half, small enough that I can shove it into the inside pocket of my suit coat. “I’m done here. See you at morning walkthrough.”
“Don’t forget. There’s more where those came from,” he hisses as I start to walk away.
I take a moment before turning around to face him. He doesn’t deserve to see my anger. Indifference will needle him more than anything. “I have no doubt that you do which is why whatever you’re selling here isn’t worth buying.”
“Ask Lainey if she feels the same way,” he mocks.
I lean down, bracing one arm on the table and one arm on his chair back so that all he sees is my stone face. “You’re desperate and craven. There’s no point in bargaining with you. What you don’t see, because you’re so damn myopic, is that you’ve lost your leverage. You led with your trump card, and it wasn’t good enough. I’m going to go win tomorrow and then the next four games. When I’m champ, it doesn’t matter how many pictures you have of Lainey. This team will lay down their collective lives to keep me, and the town will kiss my feet. We both know that winners can do anything they want in this world.”
“And if you don’t win?” He says snidely.
“That’s not an option.”
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