Walking home from Andi’s, I decide to take a detour into a bar and drink myself into oblivion. There were several things I’d expected, but none of them included her being married with kids, and how did I not hear about it? Why the fuck did I wait so long to contact her? This is totally my fault. Yeah, I gave her my number, but I should’ve known she’d never call, as stubborn as she is. I should’ve followed up and pestered the hell out of her, insisting she come with me. But I did none of those things. Now I’m sitting in this bar alone, while she’s in the arms of another man, enjoying her wonderful family life. Good for her. Or that’s what I should be thinking, anyway, but the honest side of me is jealous of him. I envy what that dude has because Andi should’ve been mine.

Opening my phone, I pull up one of the many airline apps I have and try to book a flight out tonight. Only this particular airline is completely sold out. When I go to the next, I find the same thing. I move on to one of those travel apps, which searches all airlines, and it seems every flight is booked. What the hell is going on? Even trying to get a charter seems impossible.

“Can I get you another?” the bartender asks.

“I’d rather you get me a flight out of here.”

He laughs. “Good luck with that. Haven’t you been paying attention to the weather?” He motions to the TV where The Weather Channel is on, reporting about some big winter storm getting ready to nail Chicago. I’ve noticed it’s been snowing, but this is Chicago, where the weather is usually like this in the winter.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Where’ve you been? This is all everyone’s been talking about. Planes are stuck all over the Eastern seaboard to the Midwest. Can’t get here, and from the looks of things, won’t be leaving any time soon, either.”

“Damn you, Lucia.” I spit out her name like a curse. If I hadn’t been so focused on her, I would’ve paid attention to the weather and what was happening around me.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing. And yeah, I’ll take another.”

None of the charter services are flying, which means I’m stuck in fucking Chicago. I’m so close to Andi, I can practically smell her. Goddammit.

The bartender slides another beer in front of me and I ask for a menu. Better get some food in me before I get too hammered. As I stare at the TV, watching the blue on the radar approaching the Chicago area, my phone rings.

“Hi, Fletcher. What’s up, bro?”

“Mom says you’re in Chicago. Are you stuck?”

“I am now.”

“I just heard the news, so I thought I’d give you a call.”

“Seems like I’m the last to know about the blizzard,” I say.

“That’s not what I was talking about. I was talking about your engagement.”

“Did Mom tell you I’m not engaged?”

“Yeah. You’ve got a mess on your hands. Is your guy handling it?”

“He says he is. She’s crazy, Fletch. There’s nothing more for me to tell her. I’m done.”

“Yeah, I get crazy. Make sure Max takes care of it. So how long before you can get out of there?”

“No idea. I was working on it, but no one can tell me anything. I can’t even charter a flight. It seems everything is sold out, and my guess is this place will be shut down when the storm hits.”

“I would send you my plane, but the pilot is on vacation. Besides, I doubt they can get into Midway or the Executive Airport, and O’Hare is out of the question. So hang tight and keep me posted.”

I order a burger, drink more beer, and am pretty damn toasted before I know it. The place is jammed with customers and a girl wedges her way next to me to order a drink. It’s more than that, though. She leans against me and starts hitting on me. There is no pretense or shyness about her demeanor. Even I can tell what she wants in my buzzed state.

“Hi, I’m Mickie, and you are?”

“Chase.”

“And I certainly would. Chase you, that is. You alone?”

“Not anymore, it would seem.” She laughs at my little joke. Bleached blond hair—which is not my type—hangs too close to my face. Her bright pink lips—which are also not my taste—pucker up as though she’s going to kiss me. I jerk away, trying to avoid the contact.

“Calm down, Chasie boy. I’m not going to hurt you or anything. Although I wouldn’t mind doing naughty things to you.”

“I can imagine.”

“No, I don’t think you can.” Her hands drop to my thigh, and that’s when I notice her cleavage. It’s as deep as the Grand Canyon. I wonder how much she paid for her boobs and I almost ask her when she hits me with, “You like what you see?”

“Uh, yeah.” I really don’t. Unharnessed, those jugs must hit the damn floor, but I don’t want to insult the woman.

“If you want, I can show you the real things.” She motions with her head toward the back of the room. “It’d only take a few, Chasie boy.”

“Er, yeah, well, I think maybe another time.”

“Aww, don’t be scared. Mickie promises she won’t bite. At least not too hard, anyway.”

Why does this shit happen to me? I get all the crazies.

“I’m sure you won’t, but I’ll pass. Thanks just the same.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” she teases. For a second, I think she’s going to tickle me because she has her fingers up in the air, wiggling them.

“Mickie, some other guy is going to be very lucky tonight.”

“You’re right, Chasie boy.”

My phone, which is sitting on the bar, rings and Mickie grabs it before I can answer it. Then she says something about nobody chasing anything. It’s so loud in here, though, I’m not sure if I hear her correctly. Before I can grab the phone from her, she hangs up.

“Why’d you do that?” I ask.

“Do what?”

“Answer my phone.”

She shrugs and her gigantic boobs bounce. At first I think they’re going to hit her in the chin, but they don’t. “I dunno. Thought I’d save you the trouble.”

“Don’t do it again.” Picking up the phone, I’m not really concerned because I figure I can return the call. Only when I check the recent call list, it was a private call. There’s not a number listed.

“Hey, Mickie, was it a man or woman who called?”

She cocks her head and gives me a sly grin. “Why you wanna know?”

Grinding my teeth, I say, “Stop playing games and tell me.”

“You don’t need any other woman. Mickie can give you more than she can.” Then she pushes her tits together again. My patience has just left the building.

“Mickie, you couldn’t give me what I wanted if I were stranded on a deserted island and you were the only woman there with me. Answer the question.”

“Ya don’t have to get all huffy about it. It was a lady. And all she asked was if this was your number.”

“Goddammit.” Motioning to the bartender, I hand him my credit card and square up. There’s only one person who might call like this. If it was her, I don’t have a number to call her back because of some bimbo. I don’t want to risk going back to her place and disturbing her home. There’s no way I want to intrude on that.

“You’re not going, are you?”

I don’t bother answering, but head out into the cold. It’s snowing now and the wind is howling. No wonder all the flights are booked. If this keeps up, I won’t be getting out of here for a couple of days.

By the time I make it back to my little Airbnb apartment, I’m about frozen. I did not prepare for blizzard conditions. The first thing to do is try to reserve the next flight out. Every airline is booked for days. I spend hours on the phone, waiting and waiting. Finally, I’m able to get a seat, but it’s not for five days from now. The agent explains that it may be wise to get to the airport six hours before my flight, because the airport will be a mess that day. Since Andi and I didn’t work out, there isn’t any sense in me hanging around here longer than necessary. And since I’m going to be delayed for so long, there’s no sense in staying here and trying to see Mom and Dad. I’ve decided to head back to Rome.

It’s after midnight when I crash, but my sleep isn’t what one would call restful. I end up tossing and turning all night until I eventually get up around seven. It’s so quiet, the building seems to be coated in a soundproof quilt. When I look out the window, I know why. There must be two feet of snow on the ground. It’s pristine, gorgeous, and I’m fucked. I don’t even have a pair of boots or gloves with me. What the hell am I going to do? Being stuck in Chicago is one thing. Being homebound is another. My blood is too fucking thin for this weather. Yes, I am a cold weather wimp.

Scrounging through the fridge, I come up with something to nibble on, but I’m starved. I need to go out and get some food. There’s a small grocery store on the corner, so I decide to brave it. When I get there, they are out of almost everything, but they do have coffee, juice, and snacks left on the shelves. I buy everything I can carry back to my place. When I get home, my feet are numb. Running shoes are not a great choice for blizzard conditions. Thank God the unit has a washer and dryer. It doesn’t take them long to dry, although it sounds like someone is getting the shit beaten out of them.

Mom calls to check on me. I assure her I am fine and there is nothing she can do since she is in North Carolina.

“Your uncle can come and get you.”

“Mom, there is too much snow. I would never ask him to get out in this. They haven’t cleared the roads yet. Honestly, I’m fine. I went to the store and stocked up. Don’t worry so much.”

“Don’t ever tell a mother not to worry about her children. One day you’ll understand, Chase.”

That’s not likely, but I don’t mention it to her. We say our goodbyes and I turn the TV on. What great timing I have, because it’s just in time to catch Lucia, or rather a recording of her, saying that we’re not engaged after all. It was a misunderstanding. Only the way she says it, and then how she sobs afterward, makes her look like the spurned woman. Excellent. Fucking awesome. What else can go wrong? This has turned into an epic shit show.

My phone rings and Max is calling.

“Max, what the fuck was that?”

“Was what?”

“Lucia’s retraction.”

“It was the best I could get from her,” Max says.

“Yeah, well, the media is going to crucify me.”

“Maybe not. If we can capture her cavorting with someone else, who knows? So when are you coming back? We need to discuss your contract.”

“I’m stuck here, Max.”

“Stuck? What do you mean?”

I explain my situation.

“Shit.” But when he says it, it sounds like sheet.

“Exactly. I have a reservation in five days, but the agent wasn’t optimistic. With the way things are today, it doesn’t look like anything will go out today. Not to mention, it’s still snowing.”

“Then the phone will have to do. You need to consider what Munich is offering. They’re currently third in the world and in Europe. Rome is eighth in the world, I’m sorry to say. The contract is solid. Our attorneys have asked and received everything you wanted. You won’t get a better deal.” Then he chuckles and says, “Unless, of course, Madrid offers you something.” Madrid is number one, so I doubt I’ll be getting that call.

“That would be nice, huh?”

“My opinion is you’re in a better position where you are. You have room for growth and your skill level is as good or better than the Madrid players. That’s why we can negotiate such a great contract.”

“How long before I have to tell them?”

“You’ll have until the end of January, and then the opportunity will be gone. I don’t want you to lose this, Chase. These kinds of contracts don’t come along very often. Not with this kind of money attached.”

“Okay. Thanks, Max. And out of curiosity, what kind of money could I get back here in the States?”

I hear a choking sound. “Did you say the States?”

“Yeah.”

“You can’t possibly want to play there. They aren’t even ranked. They couldn’t pay what you’re worth.”

“Aside from all that, what do you think I could get?”

“I’d have to check, but maybe a quarter of what you’re making, if that much. If you want to play in the States, you should consider their football. You know, the fake one.” He laughs.

“Hey, don’t forget my brother is a quarterback for the pros.”

“Then play for his team. Maybe he could get you on as a place kicker. You’re such a great striker, I imagine you could be a great asset as one of those.”

“Max, you’re so fucking funny, do you hear me laughing?” I’m doing anything but.

“All the way in Rome. Call me, Chase, when you can give me an answer.”

“I want you to check on those figures about playing back here first.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“Just check. You’re my agent. That’s what I pay you to do. And make sure Lucia doesn’t make an ass out of me.”

“I’m trying. Stay away from the ladies.” Those are his last words before the phone disconnects.

My head pounds. Was I serious about moving back here and downgrading to a U.S. team? With Andi out of the picture, why would I even consider it?

I flip on the TV and channel surf, trying to come up with something to watch. As it turns out, the only thing worth watching is football, and not the kind I play. Before I know it, I wake up several hours later. When I peer out the window, it’s still snowing. I feel like a caged animal. The skies are gray, telling me there’s no break in sight. Staying in here for the rest of the day and night isn’t going to work for me. I shower, dress in the warmest things I have, and head back out to the closest bar. It’s only a couple of blocks from here.

To my surprise, the place is open, and packed. The TVs are on because the Bears are playing. After waiting in line, I get the bartender’s attention and snag a beer. The guy standing next to me is an obnoxious fan and yells constantly. Maybe a few beers will dull his voice. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work, so I move to another spot. Only it seems the place is filled with these people. Why shouldn’t it be? It’s Chicago, Chase. These are local fans, you dumbass.

Doing my best to ignore them, I keep drinking. I guess it’s because I’ve always been on the field playing, or with my brother, and never noticed this kind of shit before, but damn, these people are loud. Really loud. It’s dark out by now, and I’m getting pretty fucking drunk and pretty fucking sick of hearing them boast about their team, and blah, blah, blah. All I want to do is get the hell out of this town.

When I can’t stand any more, when I’ve finally reached that point, the point where everything hits—the issue with Lucia, the fact that I came all this way to tell Andi I love her, only to find she has a family, and then the damn blizzard—I let it all out.

“I don’t know why the hell you keep going on and on about this shit. This isn’t even fucking football. The real football is played in Europe.”

Everyone around me stops talking and stares at me.

“What the fuck did you say?” some burly guy stands up and asks. He’s all geared up in a Bears baseball hat and football jersey, and he outweighs me by fifty pounds. Even though it’s not muscle, I’m sure his fist is the size of a bear’s paw.

“I’m pretty fucking sure you heard me.”

The dude gets in my face. “You can’t be talking about that pansy ass game where those pussies kick a ball around and can’t touch each other, are you?”

My fists ball up. “I’m not sure I heard what you said.”

“No, I think you did. That shit played in Europe, soccer, ain’t football, dude. So if you don’t like what you see, take your pussy ass out of here and go back to Europe and fangirl over there.”

“Did you say fangirl?”

He grins. “You bet I did.”

I don’t blink or wait for him to think. My fist flies and I deck him in the kisser. He drops like a stone. Now I have a problem, because it’s me against everyone in the bar and I’m not sober. Someone pops me straight in the nose and face a couple of times, and another person lands a few hits to my ribs because I’m being held from behind, but the fight is broken up before it gets started. Some big ass fucker grabs me and throws me out on the sidewalk.

“If you ever bring your face in here again, you’re going to jail. Got it?”

Not bothering to answer, because there’s no reason to, I stagger to my feet and stumble away. My nose is probably broken, and I’m not sure what else is messed up. I can’t breathe, so my ribs might be cracked. Blood runs into my mouth and I hope my damn teeth aren’t damaged. When I get to the corner, someone is there who asks if I need help. My shit show has turned into a shit storm and this part is my own making.

“Can you get me a taxi? I probably should go to the hospital.” The words are so slurred, I’m not sure if he even understands me.

“Do you need me to call 911?” he asks.

“No! I’m not that bad off. A cab or Uber will do. Here, use my phone.” I hope he doesn’t steal the fucking thing. That would be my luck. Turns out, he’s a good Samaritan and an Uber shows up. I’m a little surprised, given the weather.

When I get in the car, the driver says, “Hey, man, don’t bleed in this car.”

“I won’t. Just take me to the closest ER.”

“What happened?”

“Someone punched me.”

“Wow, you should call the police.”

“Nah, it was … never mind.” The hospital isn’t far at all, and I add a hefty tip to the Uber fee and thank him.

“Good luck with that.”

As I’m weaving my way toward the door, all I can think of is what a disastrous trip this has been. It’s then I hear my name.

“Chase?”

I look up and see a vision standing there.