my number. Or better still, get hers.
I waited on the sidewalk. The guard slid the chain link fence back, and there was the loud roar of an engine. In the fading twilight, Josie rode out on a motorcycle as red as her jacket. She leaned expertly to one side and accelerated onto the side street, and then disappeared onto Hastings Street like a modern day action hero.
Could she be any more fucking cool?
7
Fate and Karma
I opened up my locker before lunch and checked my phone. Messages, but none from Josie. I threw the cell back in and slammed it shut. How exactly did I think she was getting my number anyway? Just because she looked like a superhero didn’t mean she was one. I was holding out the hope that Margie might be involved somehow. Too bad I hadn’t seen Margie lately, but both she and Joe had been working long hours.
“Something wrong?” Bomber asked.
Dirk snickered. “It’s his big crush, he’s waiting for a call from her.”
I shook my head. “This is brutal. I hate feeling helpless.”
“I’m sure Yogi is familiar with the concept of karma. How many girls did you say you’d call and then never did?” Reeds wondered.
“That’s not the same.” I considered this. “Okay, maybe it is. But what are you supposed to say afterwards if she asks if you’re going to call? No? That would be way harsh.” But the Josie situation wasn’t the same because we hadn’t had sex yet. Maybe this was worse—I was getting rejected on the basis of my personality.
Bomber shook his head. “This chick is messing with you, buddy. It’s not going to end well. Women who play games are the worst.”
Dirk laughed. “Yeah, but the ride can be fun.”
I had to leave training early that day. My agent was in town, and we were meeting for coffee in the afternoon. You could always tell how important you were to your agent based on the kind of meeting you got. Meals were big; when Lance wanted to sign me, he took me and my parents out for dinner. But I wasn’t complaining, I’d been phone-calls-only for years now so coffee was a step up. Besides, I got how important I was in the universe of a big sports agent.
I had to drive downtown since we were meeting at Lance’s hotel. I parked on the street, fed the meter, and walked the three blocks to the Hotel Georgia. It was a great sunny day, and there were lots of people out. I was almost at the hotel when I heard a familiar low throaty laugh. I spun around and saw a bunch of couriers sitting in the sunshine on a marble building ledge.
And Josie was in the middle of them. She was wearing black shorts and colourful spandex layers on top. She was leaning against a pillar, completely relaxed—the only woman among a crew that looked like the cast from a Max Mad movie with body armour and layered clothing.
“Hey, Josie,” I called out.
She looked up at me and lifted her sunglasses. “Oh hey, butterfly.”
All the guys turned to check me out. Her casual greeting made me angry. Here I had been mooning over her, while she clearly hadn’t given me another thought since our dinner. Still, I wasn’t going to call her out in front of her tribe. I swallowed my irrational anger.
“Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Sure.”
She straightened up lazily, brushed herself off, and walked over. She faced me, but her mirrored metallic lenses weren’t giving me any hint of her thoughts. Again, I was struck by her absolute confidence. I’d found her again in completely different circumstances, but she offered no explanation or apology.
I opened my mouth to complain that she hadn’t called me, but then shut it. She was wearing a vest that had pens clipped to it, so I reached over and pulled one out. I grabbed her wrist in its black fingerless glove, extended her arm, and then wrote my phone number on her bare skin.
I put the pen back in her vest. That was a little trickier, and the sides of my fingers lingered against her breast. Josie’s lips parted slightly as she breathed
I waited on the sidewalk. The guard slid the chain link fence back, and there was the loud roar of an engine. In the fading twilight, Josie rode out on a motorcycle as red as her jacket. She leaned expertly to one side and accelerated onto the side street, and then disappeared onto Hastings Street like a modern day action hero.
Could she be any more fucking cool?
7
Fate and Karma
I opened up my locker before lunch and checked my phone. Messages, but none from Josie. I threw the cell back in and slammed it shut. How exactly did I think she was getting my number anyway? Just because she looked like a superhero didn’t mean she was one. I was holding out the hope that Margie might be involved somehow. Too bad I hadn’t seen Margie lately, but both she and Joe had been working long hours.
“Something wrong?” Bomber asked.
Dirk snickered. “It’s his big crush, he’s waiting for a call from her.”
I shook my head. “This is brutal. I hate feeling helpless.”
“I’m sure Yogi is familiar with the concept of karma. How many girls did you say you’d call and then never did?” Reeds wondered.
“That’s not the same.” I considered this. “Okay, maybe it is. But what are you supposed to say afterwards if she asks if you’re going to call? No? That would be way harsh.” But the Josie situation wasn’t the same because we hadn’t had sex yet. Maybe this was worse—I was getting rejected on the basis of my personality.
Bomber shook his head. “This chick is messing with you, buddy. It’s not going to end well. Women who play games are the worst.”
Dirk laughed. “Yeah, but the ride can be fun.”
I had to leave training early that day. My agent was in town, and we were meeting for coffee in the afternoon. You could always tell how important you were to your agent based on the kind of meeting you got. Meals were big; when Lance wanted to sign me, he took me and my parents out for dinner. But I wasn’t complaining, I’d been phone-calls-only for years now so coffee was a step up. Besides, I got how important I was in the universe of a big sports agent.
I had to drive downtown since we were meeting at Lance’s hotel. I parked on the street, fed the meter, and walked the three blocks to the Hotel Georgia. It was a great sunny day, and there were lots of people out. I was almost at the hotel when I heard a familiar low throaty laugh. I spun around and saw a bunch of couriers sitting in the sunshine on a marble building ledge.
And Josie was in the middle of them. She was wearing black shorts and colourful spandex layers on top. She was leaning against a pillar, completely relaxed—the only woman among a crew that looked like the cast from a Max Mad movie with body armour and layered clothing.
“Hey, Josie,” I called out.
She looked up at me and lifted her sunglasses. “Oh hey, butterfly.”
All the guys turned to check me out. Her casual greeting made me angry. Here I had been mooning over her, while she clearly hadn’t given me another thought since our dinner. Still, I wasn’t going to call her out in front of her tribe. I swallowed my irrational anger.
“Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Sure.”
She straightened up lazily, brushed herself off, and walked over. She faced me, but her mirrored metallic lenses weren’t giving me any hint of her thoughts. Again, I was struck by her absolute confidence. I’d found her again in completely different circumstances, but she offered no explanation or apology.
I opened my mouth to complain that she hadn’t called me, but then shut it. She was wearing a vest that had pens clipped to it, so I reached over and pulled one out. I grabbed her wrist in its black fingerless glove, extended her arm, and then wrote my phone number on her bare skin.
I put the pen back in her vest. That was a little trickier, and the sides of my fingers lingered against her breast. Josie’s lips parted slightly as she breathed
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