She turned away a minute to collect her thoughts and think about what she was going to say. Oh hell. For once in her life, she was just going to unleash, let her emotions do the talking, let that jerk feel the full effect of her anger. She turned back around and marched forward—straight into Ramos, knocking the tray off her shoulder and sending it clanging to the ground, drinks and all.
“Dayum!” Allison closed her eyes and counted to five. This would be her third big spill in as many months. She could barely afford to pay for another mistake, but she knew her boss would dock her. Or fire her. She kneeled on the sticky floor grateful to be wearing slacks instead of a skirt today. She began to gather the ribs and fries and broken dishes onto the tray she placed on the floor.
“Here, let me help,” a male voice said. Allison looked up and was shocked to see Tony picking up the pieces.
“Criminy! Please stop,” she said angrily. “I’m in enough trouble without a customer helpin’ me clean up.”
“Yeah, but I feel responsible.”
She lifted her eyes and squinted at him. “For this or for cheer practice?”
“Both.” He shrugged.
He disarmed her with his directness. “I coulda blown my chances of gettin’ on the cheer team all by myself, ya know. I didn’t need any help, and I certainly didn’t need to get laughed at,” she drawled. She’d been planning to blast him, but that was the best she could manage under the circumstances.
“I know. That was a shitty thing to do,” he agreed. “Would you believe I was coming over to say I’m sorry?”
Allison tilted her head in surprise. Before she had a chance to respond, her manager called her name. “Martin! Here,” he barked, handing her a broom. He plopped an orange cone on the floor near the spill. “Your luck just ran out, Allison.” He pointed a finger and bellowed, “You’ve dropped your last tray. See me after your shift.”
“Bob, wait,” she called after him, but he kept on walking away. Allison felt her face redden as she rose from her knees holding the broom. Choking back tears, she refused to cry in front of a whole restaurant full of people.
Tony stunned her when he placed his hand on top of hers as she gripped the broom. “I’ll take care of this. You go take care of your other customers.”
Allison eyed Tony skeptically. She felt sure his intentions were sinister, but his expression was kind, almost angelic. He probably used that trait to his advantage with tons of girls, but it wasn’t going to work on her. Still, at that moment when everything else was going wrong, she really needed someone to be nice to her and she couldn’t refuse his offer.
When he nodded and gave her a quick wink, she was struck by the sparkle in his golden brown eyes. For a moment, the world turned sepia tone. The rustic wood paneling and mahogany tables took on an eerie glow. She felt like she was having an out-of-body experience, like one of those dreams where images from your waking life jumble together to form a storyline that sort of makes sense in the context of a dream, but in real life makes no sense at all. She finally slipped her hand off the broom and let him take it from her.
Allison turned and headed into the kitchen to wash the barbecue sauce off her hands. She gently stroked the top of her hand where Tony had just touched her. Shaking herself before any new thoughts could enter her head, she smoothed her apron and took a deep breath.
She replaced the fallen order and asked the cook to add an order of fries to make up for the long wait. The fries would be coming out of her final paycheck, along with the rest of the food on that dropped tray.
»»•««
“Hey Ramos, what are you doing?” one of his teammates asked. “We gotta go or we’ll be late for practice.”
“Go. I won’t be long,” he answered without looking up. Raking the broom over some broken glass, he glanced at his teammate and rose to his feet.
When Tony reached for his wallet, his teammate held up his hand. “I got it covered. You get it next time.”
Nodding, Tony said, “Thanks Larry. Do me a favor and tell Coach I’ll be right there.”
When Tony finished cleaning up the mess, he wanted to go talk to the girl about cheerleader tryouts and see if there was some way he could make it up to her. Seemed like he wound up making things worse today by crashing into her and putting her job at risk.
He spotted her at a table, setting some water glasses in front of customers. He was about to go over when he noticed the clock on the wall behind the counter. “You gotta be effing kidding me,” he mumbled. He pulled his phone partway out of his pocket to verify the time. “Coach is gonna kick my ass.” He briefly glanced at the waitress before heading for the exit.
Chapter Four
Tony rushed into the empty locker room struggling to catch his breath. He was planning to set a new world record for changing into his uniform—he’d done it before in under five minutes—but that time, he hadn’t just run across campus and through the sports complex to get here. He yanked open his locker and began to lay out his uniform in the proper order when a voice called out to him.
“Don’t bother.”
His head jerked in the direction of the voice. It belonged to Ben Ryan, one of the team’s offensive coordinators. He was stocky and balding and pushing forty, and Tony guessed he was here to do Coach Fairchild’s dirty work.
“Five minutes.” Tony held up his hand with his fingers spread out. “Not even.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head.
“You’re benched, Ramos.”
Tony did a double take. “What do you mean benched?”
The coach smirked. “Don’t be cute, Ramos. You know what benched means. You’ve been there before, only this time you’re not suspended. You’re just relegated to backup.”
“Backup?” Tony dropped his T-shirt on the floor and slammed his locker closed. “You can’t do that to me!” he shouted.
“Sure I can.” Ryan folded his arms across his chest. “Coach warned if you were late just one more time, you’d get bumped to second string. You heard him say it yourself.”
Standing there shirtless, Tony looked from left to right to left, trying to formulate a response. “Yeah, but I have a good reason for being late today.”
“Yeah right,” Ryan scoffed. “You always do, don’t you?”
“No, I swear, Coach Ryan,” he argued, taking a step toward the coach. “I was helping someone. You gotta believe me.”
“Lemme guess. Some girl.”
“Okay yeah, but it wasn’t like that,” Tony insisted. “This waitress. She dropped a tray and I helped her clean it up.”
Waving at the air, the coach was dismissive. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you say happened. Result’s the same.”
“Wait, hang on. I had witnesses,” Tony remembered. “Larry, Murph, Jared—”
“Save it, Ramos. Larry already told us, but unfortunately for you, there was a ‘no excuse’ clause. It was your responsibility to get to practice on time. Period. The end!”
Tony held his arms out. “I … I … I’ll explain it to the coach myself, so he hears my side of the story.”
“Aah, don’t waste your breath, Ramos. What I’m telling you right now is a message direct from Coach.”
“But he’s always been fair with me.”
“Uh, yeah,” Ryan replied with a sarcastic lilt. He leaned against a locker, appearing overly relaxed in contrast to Tony’s growing anxiety. “Too fair, if you ask me. He gave you more chances than I would’ve,” he added, pointing his thumb at his own chest. “I knew it was just a matter of time before you’d screw yourself.”
Tony felt his anger rising. Ryan was obviously taking far too much pleasure in delivering this message to Tony. Seemed like he’d rehearsed this speech, just waiting for the opportunity to recite it. Tony worked to keep from losing his cool. He was in enough trouble, and pummeling Ryan wouldn’t help his case. Still, he wasn’t going down without a fight. “If you bump me off, it’s the Barracudas who’ll get screwed. Warner’s not nearly as good as
me,” Tony said of his backup quarterback.
“He’s got the whole summer to practice.”
Tony felt his knees buckle as the seriousness of his predicament sank in. He dropped onto the metal bench.
“So here’s the deal. One.” Ryan held up a finger. “You’ll still be practicing with the team in case something happens to Warner, but you’ll be working with the rookies and red shirts. Two, your privileges are cut off until further notice. Three, no practice for you today. Go home and contemplate your future, cuz it ain’t pretty.” Ryan let out a wry laugh before he turned and walked out of the locker room. Tony heard the echoed words “Screw up” bounce off the tiled walls as the coach exited.
Tony put on his T-shirt and headed out of the sports complex. His head was down and he was walking fast. He could barely see straight. All he saw was red. He was so furious he wanted to punch someone. Or something. It was one thing to be punished when he blatantly did something wrong, but another thing entirely when he didn’t. Even when he was trying to be a good guy, it got thrown back in his face. As usual, if it weren’t for bad luck, he’d have no luck at all.
He should be used to trouble by now. Tony had been a latchkey kid. His grandmother practically worked around the clock to provide for him. She held a day job as a bookkeeper, and at night, she worked for a maintenance contractor, cleaning offices and emptying the trash after hours. Tony used much of his authority-free time to get in trouble. He got fired from his first job at thirteen—a paper route—because he couldn’t drag himself out of bed so early after partying and getting high the night before.
Not surprisingly, he’d been a pretty poor student who earned a reputation as a troublemaker. He and his friends used to strong-arm other kids out of their lunch money and bus passes. His tall, lean, muscular frame gave him the ability to overpower most anyone his age, and his heavy eyelids gave him that threatening, gangster look. In short, he scared people.
Playing football in high school was the first thing that gave him a sense of purpose. He got really good at the game and found himself with scholarship offers from several universities, despite his mediocre grades. Not wanting to move too far from his grandmother, who’d sacrificed a lot for him, he chose a college in Orlando with a decent athletics program. He thought he had it made, but he was clearly wrong. He was this close to blowing his ride.
As he headed toward his car, the young waitress’s face flashed through his mind and he remembered he wasn’t the only one who had a lousy day. That girl at Old Smoky’s was going to get fired, thanks to him. Well, if he couldn’t get his own job back today, maybe he could at least get hers back.
»»•««
When Tony entered the restaurant, the girl at the hostess station asked if he wanted a table for one, but he waved her off. He circled the dining room looking for the pretty blonde waitress, but he didn’t see her. So he went up to the order window behind the counter. “Excuse me,” he said, but no one acknowledged him.
Another waitress walked around him and smiled, so Tony smiled back. His charm may not work on his coaching staff, but it usually worked on the ladies. He glanced at her nameplate. “Excuse me, Jen. Is the manager here?” Tony brought his flattened hand to chin level. “About six feet tall and heavy-set. I think his name is Bob.”
“I’ll find him for you,” Jen said. Turning toward the order window, she craned her neck to look inside, and called out, “Hey Bob, you here?” She glanced at one of the cooks behind the kitchen window. “Is Bob back there?”
Within a moment, Bob came through the swinging door leading from the kitchen into the restaurant’s dining room. “Someone call me?”
Tony nodded at the waitress, then turned toward Bob. He could tell the man recognized him. “Hi Bob, I’m Tony.” He extended his hand.
“I know who you are,” Bob gushed with adulation. “Tony Ramos, quarterback for the Barracudas, right?”
Tony nodded but stayed on topic. “I was looking for that girl. The waitress. I think her name is Allison, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, she don’t work here anymore.”
Tony’s lips parted. That was exactly what he feared. “You fired her?”
“She’s more trouble than she’s worth,” Bob said with a disinterested wave.
“Look, that dropped tray? Totally my fault.” He pressed his hand against his chest. “I wasn’t watching where I was going,” he lied.
“Nice try, kid, but it wasn’t her first drop and it wouldn’t of been her last.”
Sighing, Tony asked, “Isn’t there anything I could say that would change your mind?”
“Don’t think so. Unless—”
“Unless?” Tony waited for an answer.
Bob rested his elbow on the counter. “I’m usually working on Saturdays but man, would I love to take my boys to Opening Day. ’Cept ticket prices are a little steep these days.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” A pit settled in Tony’s stomach. He knew where this conversation was headed.
“You guys get ’em free, right?”
“Um. We get a few for family.” Except when our privileges are cut off.
“Well, I wouldn’t want you giving away your family’s tickets.” Bob’s tone oozed with insincerity. “It’s really ashamed ’bout Allison though. In this economy, waitressing jobs are hard to find anywhere near campus.”
“So, uh two tickets,” Tony muttered quietly.
“I got three boys, so I’m gonna need four. It’d be awesome if they were on the fifty-yard line.”
Tony’s stomach twisted. The price of the tickets would be coming out of his own pocket, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t live with the guilt over Allison losing both her job and a cheerleader spot because of his actions. This was the least he could do. He’d figure out how to pay for the tickets later. “Sure. Just tell me your last name and I’ll make sure the tickets are waiting for you.”
“Redding. Bob Redding.”
“And the waitress. Can you guarantee she gets her job back?”
Stroking his chin, Bob mused, “Hmm. You know, we’re short-staffed here anyway, so even a second-rate waitress is better than none. I’ll call and tell her I was just in a bad mood. Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said with a laugh. “So, four tickets.” He held out his hand to shake Tony’s.
Tony reluctantly shook Bob’s hand. “Four tickets.”
“Pleasure meeting you, Tony!”
Chapter Five
Tony was still in knots when he left the restaurant. It had been a hell of a day, so instead of heading back to his dorm, he went to the fitness center in the sports complex where the athletes worked out. There was a second fitness center on campus, but that one was for civilians and it didn’t have the professional equipment that the one used by the college athletes had. My fitness center privileges better not be among those that were cut off, he thought to himself.
Like many of his fellow EFU athletes, Tony was planning to take one or two classes over the summer so he could stay at school and have access to equipment, trainers, and facilities. If he went home to Bradenton for the summer, his only choices would be the Y and an expensive fitness center in Naples, and neither one was close to home.
Right now, he needed to work off some aggression, so he put on his headset and switched on some tunes to block out the world. Philip Mason used to advise him to channel his aggression into productive energy, and that’s precisely what Tony was aiming to do. He started by pounding the punching bag and worked his way around the circuit to the bench press. Somehow, the feel of the leather bench beneath his torso and the weighty barbell in his grip felt soothing, familiar.
As he pumped iron, he tried to erase a million negative images from his mind. His mother who ran out on him, the girl who accused him of rape, crashing into Allison and causing her to lose her job, her asshole of a boss who bribed Tony so she’d get her job back, Matt Warner—his inexperienced competition at quarterback, Coach Fairchild who didn’t trust him, and Coach Rya
n, who delighted in benching Tony.
This wasn’t fair. Yes, there were plenty of times he deserved to be blasted, but this wasn’t one of them. Just shows how your reputation precedes you. At only twenty years old, he had a rep he might never live down. Every mention of him in the mainstream media included a tag about the alleged rape, making his name almost synonymous with a crime he didn’t commit. Would it be this way forever?
The idea of being second-string killed Tony. He was better than that. He sat behind Mason for almost a year and a half before he got the opportunity to start a game. And he did great all season, except for that final game. He was too good to be a bench-warmer. Everyone knew it, but apparently it didn’t matter. He wasn’t even being punished because he wasn’t a good player. He was being punished because the coaching staff lost faith in him as a person.
Without warning, Philip’s words at graduation floated into Tony’s mind, words he wasn’t even paying attention to at the time. “You are your brand. Everything you do, all your actions and all your words add up to the total package that is you. That’s why it’s important for you, every one of you, athletes, scholars, and everyone in between, to be mindful of your choices. What you did yesterday affects today. And what you do today affects tomorrow. You never know if you’re gonna get to replay the down. Sometimes you only get one shot, so make it count.”
Tony blew some air through his lips. Seems like he’d already blown his one shot. “Damn it,” he muttered. Not only wouldn’t he be playing on opening day, but he’d been stripped of his perks. That meant no free tickets for his grandmother. He couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the disappointment in her eyes—not because of the tickets, but because she was one of only two people who ever believed in him, and he let her down. Unfortunately, this wasn’t something he could hide. Even if she wasn’t there in person, she’d be watching the game on TV and see he wasn’t playing.
Tony returned the barbell to its cradle. He thought about the tickets he promised Bob, the tickets that would buy Allison’s job back. He stood up and took his wallet out of his sweats to see how much cash he had. He thumbed some singles—barely enough for a six-pack. But maybe there was still hope. He and his teammates sometimes pooled their tickets when someone needed more and someone needed less. Tony typically needed only one ticket for his grandmother and he’d always give the rest away. Opening day was tough though. Most families wanted to be there that day. He took a deep breath and sat back down on the leather bench. His grandmother always assured him that God would provide. This time, Tony wasn’t so sure.
Roughing the Passer (Quarterback Sneak Book 2) Page 2