“I’ve met someone,” Griff said into the phone to his sister, Kathy.“Fantastic! Who is she?”
“She’s not exactly interested in me. In fact, she’s barely speaking to me.”“What did you do?” The irritation in her voice was palpable.
“Nothing. She said pro football guys are man-whores.”“That’s kinda true, isn’t it?”
“Maybe. At one time. Okay, it was. Back in the day. But not now.”“You’ll have to prove it.”
“How the hell do I do that? Become a monk?”Kathy laughed. “Like that’s even possible.”
“Looking for some suggestions here.”“You’ve got to build her trust. Be nice to her.”
“Without expecting something back. Trust doesn’t happen in five minutes after one good deed. You’ve got to sew the seeds.”“Sew the seeds? Have you become a writer?”
“Do you want my advice or do you want to smart-mouth me?”“Okay, okay. Sew the seeds.”
“Then shine on them, surround them with warmth. And they’ll bloom.”“You’ve taken up gardening?”
“I’m hanging up, asshole.”“No, no. Wait, Kathy. I’m sorry.”
“Kill her with kindness with no expectations.”“And love will bloom?”
“Love, eh? You’re interested in love?”Griff realized he’d admitted too much. “Thanks for the help. Gotta go.” He hung up his cell and sank down on a bench in the park. He wiped off the sweat on his face from running and sat back.
He’d never hung around long enough to let anything bloom with the women he’d bedded. The closest he came was the chick in Los Angeles. Because of the time difference, the team always arrived early. He’d spend two nights with Angela instead of one.He found her talk of celebrities and clothes totally boring, and always left, glad to return home. His sister, a stay-at-home-mom was more interesting than sexy Angela who could give a good blow job, but never read a newspaper. Sew the seeds. Where do I start? He opened his phone as he headed back.
“Lauren, how would you like Kathy’s season box seats? Yeah. Two. You can bring your brother, too. What? How much? Nothing. A gift. You’re welcome.”
He placed the phone in the back pocket of his shorts and grinned. Seed one, sown. He broke into a loping gait and ran home.