He didn’t have as much to drink last night. Just one can of beer. It was the least amount he’d had in months.

Josh wanted another, and his usual bottle of wine and rum, but he miraculously found the strength to resist.

He’d distracted his mind with some old recordings of the last three years’ worth of games. He used to do this a lot, that way he could help with game strategies. He’d look at how the game played out: who did what, what worked, what didn’t. It was something he was really good at.

Josh had always planned to coach one day, but that would be when he was too old to play. Carl Ferguson, who played for the Centaurs, was the oldest player in the football world. He was in his mid-forties and would be forty-six next year. There was no talk of his retirement. He was one of their best players, too valuable to lose.

Josh hoped to be like that. So he was good for another couple of years. The question was what he was going to do with those years, and it started now.

To make sure he got enough sleep he went to bed at a reasonable time and set his alarm for five. Again, that was something he hadn’t done in such a long time he forgot what it felt like to wake up at that hour. Josh felt surprisingly alert, like traces of his old self was peeking through the guarded wall of grief that suppressed him.

He showered and got ready, dressing in a hooded jacket and running trousers. While he waited for the Disney princess he did some sit-ups and crunches. He also thought he’d take a walk on the beach, too, when she finished with him. He didn’t know what she had planned for today yet, but he wanted to do that. The beach soothed him. It was one of the perks of living so close.

Amy was still annoyed at him by the time she left yesterday; Josh couldn’t worry about that. He was thinking about what he needed to do to sort himself out.

He sat by the French windows in his room, waiting for her to come. Just before six he heard the front door open, then some shuffling around. He then heard her coming up the stairs praying. He wondered if that was it, maybe she was a former nun. It would explain the uptightness and the prudish attitude towards sex.

Maybe she left the convent and was trying her hand at something new so she needed the money to get her foot in.

She took caution in opening the door and came inside holding a large can of whipped cream. When she saw his empty bed her face fell and she looked panicked.

She was wearing a cute little top today. Super girlie with its candy colors and ruffles. He liked her hair too. It was up in a loose bun on top of her head. Her hair off her face made her look even younger and drew attention to the sharp definition in her high, exotic cheekbones.

“I’m here, Kansas, and if that cream isn’t for me to use on you get rid of it.”

Her head whipped up at the sound of his voice and she looked truly shocked to see him, but happy at the same time. “You’re awake?”

“Well spotted, princess.”

She smiled at him and he felt that warmth again.

He stood up, put his hood up and made his way past her. “You coming?” he asked, because she still looked so surprised.

“Yeah.”

They did some more interview preparation because the rep was coming today, then they talked about the appearances and photo shoots she’d booked him in even though he said he didn’t want to do it. She advised that doing things like that was good because it created good press and had the added benefit of turning the media attention away from his family. He liked that she was so sensitive and protective. Josh absolutely didn’t want to answer any questions about how he was feeling or how the incident affected him.

When the rep and Zelda arrived he was in much better shape. In body and mind. He didn’t know the rep, but Zelda looked quite impressed with him. All dealings he’d had with her, over the last few months in particular, had been terrible and they’d ended up arguing. It was good that she could see that he was trying. By the time the rep finished and they were done, she looked satisfied with his comments and at ease.

Amy did too.

“What now?” he asked Amy once they’d left. She’d just walked into the office and taken her seat around the desk.

“I get back to work. Lots of emails to respond to and people to call back.”

He wondered what everyone wanted but guessed he’d find out soon. She seemed to be quite good at this and he wondered again what her former job was.

“What did you do before coming here to work for me?”

The question threw her and she looked surprised by it. She straightened up and pulled in a breath.

“I was a PA for the editor in chief at Style Magazine in New York.”

Fashion. That explained a lot. He was used to Allegra and Cindy who always looked great, but there was a certain class about Amy that made him want to look and appreciate the efforts she made. Like the top she wore today. It looked beautiful but she’d given it more class by adding a small hummingbird broach near her right shoulder. The bird had blue gems encrusted on its pure gold body.

The attention diverted his focus towards the intricacy of the broach and away from the slight hint of cleavage she displayed. If it was either Allegra or Cindy, then there would be no end to the amount of breast they showed. Not that he complained. It was just a distinction he noticed.

“Sounds interesting.”

“It was great.”

He wanted to ask why she left but didn’t, he didn’t want to pry too much. She hadn’t pried with him, and there was a lot to pry about.

“Okay, I’ll let you get on.”

He left her and thought back to when they first met. They really had started off on the wrong foot. But hey, here he was trying and he was just looking forward to getting tomorrow out the way.

Later she left with Hilda, talking excitedly about going shopping for a new eyeliner. That was one thing about women he didn’t get. How could they be so excited about something like that?

He got his clothes ready for tomorrow. He didn’t want anything extravagant so turned down the option for a stylist. He’d been doing shows long enough to know what to wear and what suited him. That was always one of his dark-colored Boss suits. Only Boss made suits tailored to fit his height and build the way he wanted. He took out a black one from his wardrobe and added a white shirt and a tie with blue specks on it.

The landline rang as he was about to sort out his shoes. It would be his father. Josh listened out for the rings until it kicked on the answer machine, then came his father’s voice.

“Hey son. It’s me. Just seeing how you are. I’ll be watching your show tomorrow. Let me know if you need me to come by. I’d like to support you and be there.” Josh marveled at how his father always tried to sound cheerful. “It’s Clarissa’s birthday on Sunday. I just wondered if maybe you’d like to come with me to the cemetery. We can get some flowers and maybe do something. Pete will be there. He’d like to see you too.”

Josh stilled.

An uncontrollable tear ran down his cheek. He’d been so wrapped up in this show that he forgot it was his sister’s birthday on Sunday.

He’d never forget when her birthday was, as in the date. It was more of the case that time was so jumbled in his mind that he just got from one day to the next on a whim.

Josh walked over to the phone and picked it up.

“Josh,” his father said.

He opened his mouth to answer but found it too difficult. They hadn’t spoken since the funeral and there was so much he wanted to say but couldn’t. And he couldn’t go Sunday. Pete was Clarissa’s fiancé, who was still so in love with her and distraught by her death. How was Josh to face either of them?

“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m so, so sorry.” That was all he could say.

“Josh.” His father’s voice filled him, but it was too much to bear. “Joshua it—”

Josh hung up the phone and sank into the despair that would normally overtake him at this hour. It was like a thick blanket of darkness.

He made his way into the kitchen and grabbed a few bottles of rum from the pantry. It was the only medication for this problem, and the only way he knew how to deal with the oncoming grief that would accompany the despair that filled his soul.

* * *

“Hey sweet girl,” Amy’s mother said in her warm, soothing, southern accent.

“Hey Mama, are you okay?” Amy called her mother the minute she got back. She hadn’t managed to speak to her last night because her brother said she had a rough day from a bad cold.

“I’m better. I even managed to tend to the vegetables patch.” Her mother did sound more cheerful.

“I was worried.”

“I know. Don’t be.”

Amy sat on the edge of her little bed staring at the flashing police lights outside. Earlier there were gun shots and screams, which enhanced the discomfort she felt in being here by tenfold. New York could be rough, and she’d lived in a lot of places where she had to continuously watch her back, but this place was by far the worst.

Focusing on her mother was giving her the distraction she needed and also the strength to be positive. Josh had made the miraculous turn around she was praying for and it looked like tomorrow was going to go really well. Today was great. The easiest day she’d had since working for him. It was like what she first imagined.

“I’ll get the money tomorrow, Mama. Make sure Tristan organizes everything from your end.” Tristan had a tendency to procrastinate.

“Amy, it still doesn’t sit well with me that you’re doing this. Maybe we should pray more and let the good Lord decide which path he’d like me to follow. It all costs so much.” Her mother’s voice shook. “And you’re giving up a lot for me.”

“Don’t think about that, it’s no trouble.” There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her mother. Even when it wasn’t in her power. “Just please make sure you guys get everything in order.”

“We will. Just be safe, and take care of yourself. I worry about you so much. And I miss you, sweet girl.”

“I love you, Mama.” Amy pulled in a breath against the tears that threatened to come.

She was the one who normally sorted everything out. Her brother was great, but his lazy ways could get the better of him sometimes. Add her niece to the mix and that would cause delays. With this deposit, Dr. Carson would start her on a treatment plan in preparation for the surgery. He’d explained that would mean running multiple tests over a course of a few weeks to evaluate and anticipate any special needs her mother might have. Her mother was diabetic and took medication for that on a daily basis. Since she would have to stop her medication she’d need close monitoring, and since she was also what they deemed to be a high-risk patient she’d need extra care around that too.

Her mother was in a very delicate position and any little thing could cause something to go wrong. That was what made everything even more worrying.

“I love you, too, baby girl.”

With that they ended the call. Amy took several more breaths and steadied her wild-beating heart. She wished everything wasn’t so hard. She wished it was just a little easier. It didn’t help that she was shattered from tiredness. She might not have minded the early morning wake up so she could leave this place, but it had still taken its toll on her and she was tired.

She thought that since Josh had had a turn around and woke himself up this morning, she’d give herself an extra hour or two tomorrow. If she got to his place by eight they’d have plenty of time before they had to leave. She’d message him to let him know and give herself a chance to sleep.

She got up a little earlier than she had planned and took her time to get ready. She chose one of her business suits and had her hair back in a ponytail to look more professional. This would be her first public appearance as his PA and she had to admit that going to ESPN’s studios was quite exciting.

Her excitement, however, sank as she opened his door and the intense smell of rum hit her hard. So hard it burned her face from the harshness.

Amy nearly screamed when she saw Josh passed out drunk on the living room floor. At least ten wine bottles surrounded him, along with a mixture of rum and vodka.

“No!” she shrieked in fright, bringing her hands up to her mouth.

This wasn’t happening. Just looking at him shattered her insides and tore at her already-weakened mind.

He couldn’t have been so cruel to have done this. Yesterday he’d progressed so much. Now look at him. She kicked off her heels and rushed up to him.

“Josh.” She shook him hard but there was no movement. “Josh.”

Still nothing, and it was after eight. She thought she’d see him dressed and ready to go like yesterday. She thought today would be a breeze, but she was foolish to let her guard down.

Amy understood his bereavement and depression, but this was…

Her heart clenched at the sight of a thong on the floor near the fireplace and she wondered if whoever left it there was still here. The sight of him and it angered her as she thought about their crazy encounter the other day. She’d dropped her guard then, too, and nearly became no better than his harem of women and admiring fans.

That was, however, nothing in comparison to her worries right now. How was she going to get him to the studio? And if she didn’t she could practically kiss that money goodbye and her mother wouldn’t be able to start treatment.

Amy shoved him hard and that was when he stirred.

“Baby, what are you doing?” He could hardly talk. He struggled to open his eyes.

“Wake up.”

He looked at her and blinked several times. “Can you pay the strippers? I think there were two or possibly three of them.”

“Wake up!” she screamed at him and caught his attention.

He wasn’t going to do this to her. This wasn’t going to happen. She would get him there even if she had to dress him herself.

She moved with lightning speed up the stairs and into his room where she found his clothes all laid out on the bed. He’d actually prepared them.

So what happened?

Maybe he had a change of heart or something. She grabbed the clothes and some towels she could dampen to wipe his face.

He’d drifted off to sleep again by the time she got back so she got some cold water and doused him with it just like the other day. However, unlike the other day it didn’t have the same kick. He woke up a little, just enough for her to get him to sit up so she could wipe his face and run the towel over his hair to get the brewery smell off him. As she started undoing the buttons on his shirt he smiled and reached for her waist.

“That’s more like it, Kansas. I want to take my time to undress you and relish your perfect body.”

Well at least he could form words.

She moved his hand away but he only returned it. Instead of fighting with him she just focused on getting his dirty clothes off and the new clothes on.

She managed to get the shirt off and evade his attempts to kiss her.

“Josh, I need you to focus. We have to get to the studio.” They were already late.

“Why are we going there, baby? Let’s just go some place nice. Just you and me. Perfect Amy.”

This was ridiculous, and crazy.

“Josh, think of football. Think about football. We need to go. Please stand up.”

“Football.”

He seemed to consider this and looked like he’d just remembered something, then tried to stand. She took the opportunity to help him. He was able to get the trousers on but no more. He sat on the sofa holding his head.

“I can’t do it,” he muttered. “Baby, I’m sorry I can’t do it.”

She wanted to feel sorry for him but her annoyance took over. “Yes you can.” She grabbed the jacket and helped him get it on, and did his tie.

All he needed was shoes and they’d be ready. He didn’t look as sharp as she would like, but he was dressed.

Since she knew she would need help, she grabbed that phone book on top of the fridge and called Corey. He said he’d look out for them when they arrived.

She just hoped like hell she could pull this off.

Josh slept the whole journey there. Amy allowed him to with the hope that it meant he would wake up when they arrived. In the meantime, she tried to keep her fury under control.

She couldn’t believe he would do this. No matter what had happened he knew they had to be here early today, and if they weren’t it would jeopardize everything. Absolutely everything. She doubted that if he knew her situation it would have mattered to him, but surely he cared enough about himself to worry that he’d be cut from the team.

Maybe they wouldn’t cut him off. Maybe that’s what he thought, but if he did, why then did he make such an effort yesterday. It didn’t make sense. Her feeling was that he would get cut from the team, he just didn’t think of the impact when he decided to drown himself in booze last night.

She hated relying on people. In her life, she’d never done herself any favors by putting her trust in anyone. Her father was to blame for that. When she was little she used to believe he could do anything, and that as long as he was there everything would be alright. She wouldn’t suffer or go through any form of disappointment.

She remembered the last time she saw him. Like Josh, he was drunk then, too. Always drunk and off-his-face wasted. At the time, they lived in a little house in West Atlanta and she remembered him having the worst argument ever with her mother. Her father took everything her mother earned. He spent it on booze and women. Her mother knew this but still gave willingly. That last day, with that terrible argument, he just walked out of the house with his bags. Amy ran after him. She was only eight years old at the time. She threw her arms around him, told him how much she loved him, and begged him to stay. But it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough and he just picked her off him like a bug and tossed her into the heap with the garbage. That was what she was to him.

To this day she still remembered how she felt as she watched the back of his pickup truck drive away, never to return. Those feelings gave her a rude awakening and served as a reminder to never trust anyone.

It was just a shame that she had to be forced to place her trust in Josh. Someone as selfish and self-centered as him. Because of him her mother might die.

Panic rose in her throat at the thought and she could barely control the wheel as she entered the grounds of the studio. She could see Corey waiting for them, and Zelda.

And another official-looking man. She parked near them and they all came over to her.

“Hey, you okay?” Corey asked. At least he looked genuinely concerned. Zelda, on the other hand, took one look at Josh and her face darkened with rage.

She looked like how Amy felt.

“Amy, this is Coach Simpson.” She took a deep breath as she looked at Josh, asleep in the car. Amy got out and walked around to the passenger side of the car to open the door.

“Has he been asleep the whole time?” Zelda asked.

She looked up at her and nodded. She was too afraid to talk because she was so angry she could spit fire.

“We’re on the air in twenty minutes,” Coach Simpson said. He, too, did not look pleased.

Amy lowered to Josh and tried to shake him. She felt that maybe if she tried again she could wake him up, maybe the sound of her voice would annoy him enough to wake up and tell her off the way he normally did.

“Josh, please wake up. Please,” she said close to his ear.

“Hey, why don’t we try to get him out of the car,” Corey stated.

Amy was grateful for the suggestion. “Thanks,” she told him.

He took Josh’s arm and managed to move him around. Once he had Coach Simpson on the other side the both of them lifted Josh to stand. The action made him stir and Amy’s heart leapt as she watched him move his head.

“Come on, buddy. You got to wake up,” Corey said.

Josh didn’t reply. He did move his legs, though, and he was able to walk with their assistance.

Amy was really trying to be positive. She was really trying her best, but this wasn’t looking good. Yes, he moved, but he looked terrible. He couldn’t go on TV like that.

They managed to get him inside the studio and place him on a chair, but to her horror he fell asleep again!

“Has he been drinking?” Coach Simpson asked her.

“Last night,” she said, hoping that would help in some way for them to keep trying to wake him.

“Josh, wake up, son. Joshua.” He attempted to shake Josh but there was nothing. He stood up, looked from Zelda to Corey, and said, “This is no use. He’s no use to us like this, and it’s not right to keep forcing him if he doesn’t want to play anymore. Get him to rehab.”

No, no they couldn’t do that. She knew he wanted to play. She hadn’t known him long enough but she knew he wanted to play. Possibly more than anything. She’d seen it in his eyes when she laid down the terms of what they’d be doing going forward. She saw it in his eyes just yesterday.

And if he went to rehab, that would be it for her. She’d practically be signing her mother’s death certificate. That thought switched something in her brain and ignited the rage and anger that boiled within her. It surged her forward and she took hold of his shoulders and shook him.

“Wake the hell up, Josh. Wake up.” Nothing. It was like he wasn’t home, and he had that stupid expression on his face like when he stared at her breasts and licked his lips. The fool was probably dreaming about sex. That wouldn’t surprise her. It did anger her, though, and just like that time when she found out Tristan was being bullied at school she lost her sanity. Back then she was about twelve, now she was thirty-three and had had so much happen to her. So much just in this last month.

All she knew was she raised her hand and slapped him across his face with everything in her, and again across his other cheek with the back of the same hand.

“You selfish son of a bitch, wake up. Think about someone else besides your damn wretched self,” she heard herself cry. “Wake up! I did not put up with your crazy shit for this to happen. I put so much effort into you. Wake up if you want to play football.” She must have slapped him six times in total, hard. So hard it left a red mark on his face. In the process of the seventh he caught her hand as she was about to give it to him again and held her waist to steady her.

“I’m awake.” His eyes stared into hers, wide into hers. Wide awake.

“Lord Jesus,” Corey said, moving her back.

“You’d better call on Jesus because he just saved your friend,” Zelda commented.

Josh let go of her hand and released her. He then stood up on shaky legs and looked around. Zelda and Coach Parker looked at Amy with shocked but amused expressions. She, however, tried to calm herself and steady her heart.

“You up for this, son?” Coach Simpson asked, resting his hand on Josh’s back.

“Yes coach.” Josh nodded and pulled in a deep breath. He looked back at Amy and frowned at her. She frowned back.

“My face better not be red, Kansas.” He ran his hand over his face.

His cheeks were bright red and had finger marks, too. He looked like he’d had a run in with wolves. She opened her bag and took out her touch l’eclait concealer.

“Use this, and next time don’t piss me off.” She tossed it to him and he caught it. He then walked ahead with Coach Simpson while Zelda and Corey lagged behind to talk to her.

“It seems I was wrong about you,” Zelda commented, her bright green eyes sparkled with interest.

“What do you mean?” Amy panicked thinking she was still doomed despite her efforts. She was completely aware that she’d just practically attacked Josh and she knew that it was a terrible thing. Her skin buzzed from the anger that hadn’t rescinded.

“You’re perfect for this job. You know how to handle yourself, and it looks like you know exactly how to deal with him too. I’m totally impressed,” Zelda replied.

Amy breathed a sigh of relief when she heard that.

“Me too,” Corey stated, nodding. “We just might get him back for this season.”

Amy hoped so, too, because this was still only the beginning. It was the first hurdle. She’d only just moved from square one.