*****
“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.”
“I am.”
“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.
