First Up

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First Up Page 2

by Ella Jackson


  "Uh, about as well as a dolphin is going to play football, but that's really not the point. They have a major PR blitz going on this week, and their photos are everywhere." He sighed. "Look, maybe this time we should just give them a warning, okay?"

  "Yeah, okay. I guess." My face creased in a frown. "It's just...they're arrogant a-holes. You can see it in their faces. Athletes like them think they can get away with anything."

  Matt had helped me out in my first few months in the job, and he'd become a genuine friend. I'd tried hard to stand on my own and not need anyone - that had been my philosophy since I left for college - but he'd gradually broken down my resistance with a combination of stupid jokes, morning coffee and genuine interest in my wellbeing. It had helped me through the rough times transitioning to my new job here in Cheyenne.

  Those guys were just like all the jocks I remembered from college. I tried to be neutral about it, but there was only so much I could take of their entitled attitudes. My parents hadn't been interested enough to help me with college; they'd said it was a waste of time if I planned to be a cop.

  So I’d done it myself; saved and finally paid off a significant enough chunk to get to the point where I felt like I could breathe for the first time in years…as long as I didn’t let myself look too closely at the loan statements I got in the mail every month.

  "Hey, judging people by their appearance isn't fair. C'mon." He grinned. "Besides, they seemed pretty contrite. Maybe they'd take you out to say sorry. When was the last time you went on a date?"

  I should've expected this; Matt never let a week go by without some crack about my single status.

  "None of your goddamned business."

  He put his hands up. "Hey, just looking out for a fellow officer. You’ve been okay, right?”

  I nodded unenthusiastically. Like something was about to happen in my love life. I was happy with who I was, but I couldn’t help him noticing how I spent my Saturdays with a bowl of icecream in front of Netflix. I'd dated a couple of guys before I moved here to Cheyenne, but it hadn't lasted, and most guys got a lot less enthusiastic when they learned I was a cop, and my job wasn't taking a back-step to anything.

  I had my reasons. If I wasn't true to myself, I’d have known I was a fake, and it would only have been a matter of time before everyone else found out too.

  “I've been okay. Not that it’s anyone’s business,” he says before he retakes his seat next to me.

  He shot me a look. “You keep giving people shit, and they're not going to want to talk to you.”

  I deserved that.

  “Okay, Matt. I’m sorry."

  He gave me a smile. “At least you had the good sense to apologise. Now maybe go let those guys out and send them home?”

  Finished with my paperwork, I hit Enter and pushed my keyboard back on my desk. I knew what I wanted do to, which was to let them sit there for a bit, but Matt was sure about right.

  “Yeah, okay. They'd better not do anything to piss me off though."

  ”C'mon, quit being a hardass. That Dempsey guy, you've seen him on local TV, right? He’s a good guy, and you know it. He's been touring hospitals, visiting sick children, all of that."

  I wasn’t sure what had prompted Matt to defend these idiots, but I wasn't prepared to argue. Much.

  “Only if you’re unlucky enough to be a photo opportunity. I know what pro athletes are like." I stood up and nodded in resignation.

  He gave me a look that said he was unimpressed with my answer, which made me laugh. I didn’t even think he would care.

  “Oh man, Will is going to be the best striker in the league - and he's the highest paid rookie for a reason. I can't believe you're dissing the guy."

  “I’ve been able to avoid sport this long. Don't see any reason to start worshipping these overpaid idiots now.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, okay. Remind me not to invite you over to watch the Thunderbirds opening game next Saturday then. Maybe you'll have a date instead."

  I wouldn't. I seriously loved living as a spinster. This was my home now, and no guy was going to get in the way of that.

  “I’ll remember that for next time.” I turned and headed downstairs to the cells.

  * * *

  When I came down the stairs, both of the guys looked up. The dark one - Ricky, was it? - turned on a smile that looked just a little too practiced.

  "Evening, officer. What can we do for you?" He'd obviously sobered up, and was all charm now.

  I looked back at him stonily. "You can stay out of trouble, is what you can do. Against my better judgement, I'm going to let you off with a warning this time." I opened the cell door. "You can go, but if I see you making trouble again, you're going to regret it."

  The fair-haired guy stood up and looked back at me, unsmiling. "Okay, officer. Anything you say. We don't want trouble." His blue eyes bored into me, and for the first time in a long time, I felt uncomfortable in how a man was looking at me. I was used to being looked at with dislike when I was arresting someone, but this...this wasn't dislike, but it wasn't lust either. Just...a quiet regard, looking me up and down.

  I shook my head, trying to clear the feeling. "That goes for you too, blondie. Out."

  They collected their stuff from the desk sergeant and filed out the door without complaint. As they left, Matt nodded at the retreating back of the fair-haired guy.

  "That's Will Dempsey. He likes you."

  The saying 'maybe he’s just not that into you' came to mind, but I didn’t say it. I nodded. "Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't."

  "What, no argument? I'm shocked."

  I pushed him in the shoulder as I headed back to my desk to get my back. "Anything to shut you up. Besides, the only way I'm going to see him again is if I'm arresting him, and that isn't going to exactly make him fall for me."

  “Okay, okay. Get out of here.”

  I tossed him a salute. "Sure thing, man. Have a good night."

  I checked the clock. Ten minutes to make it back to my place. Perfect.

  As soon as I walked in, I could tell something was wrong. I could make out the soft sounds of crying as I rushed up the stairs to my apartment.

  I walked in to see my friend Amy, on the mat, head in hands. I'd seen her upset before, but it was the emotion in the shape of her mouth that I had never seen before.

  "What's the matter, babe?"

  “Yeah. Nothing. It's cool.” I hated that saying, and I had told her so before.

  “Why?” I looked at the time. "Another guy stand you up?"

  "Yeah. I met him last night, and he seemed so nice. We said we'd meet tonight, and then he didn't show. I waited for hours." She sniffed. "I let myself in with your key under the mat. I hope that's okay."

  I sat next to her and hugged her. "Of course, babe. Although as a police officer I should really get a more secure apartment. You should stay here tonight, okay?"

  "O-okay. I keep thinking I should text him again, but I'm trying not to."

  “Screw this guy. He's a douche.” I hadn't handled myself in the best manner to solve this kind of thing in the past, and I wasn't really one to give advice. "You’d better stay away from him for a bit.”

  "Yeah, I guess so." She wiped her eyes. "He just seemed so nice, that was all. He said he was a soccer player."

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Oh really? Tall and fair-haired by any chance? English guy?”

  Amy looked at me like I’d said something ridiculous. "No, no way. Dark hair, sounded like he was from LA." She gurgled mournfully. "He looked like a movie star. Said his name was Ricky. He told me he'd take me to a soccer game."

  “Only if I don't Tase him first,” I snapped. "I busted him and his idiot friend downtown tonight for starting trouble. He's been in the cells, which is why he stood you up. He really is a douche."

  "Did he, like, hit someone?"

  I shrugged. "Well, no. Actually the other guy - his teammate, I guess - hit him."

  “Then how did you know he
was the problem?”

  I folded his arms. “It’s pretty obvious, babe. Just look at the guy. He's a pro athlete." In truth I think it was just a cover for his creeptastic behaviour.

  Amy folded her hands in her lap. "He seemed really nice, and he was really charming."

  "He's an entitled idiot, and you should really consider driving him out to the desert and abandoning him there." Amy seemed so much older than me, so grown-up most of the time; then something like this happens, and she goes to pieces over one stupid bad boy.

  No, wait. That was rude. Just because he looks like a bad boy doesn't mean we should credit him with that moniker. He's an overgrown man-child, and that's all there is to it.

  I was good on it all, though. He wasn't my problem, and all I needed to do was support her.

  "Ames, maybe it would be a good idea for you to talk to someone about this? Seriously, maybe some counselling would help."

  She sniffed loudly. “Maybe you’re right.”

  Hopefully, she’d grow out of her tendency to fall for these douchebags before one or both of us dies of old age.

  My mother meant well, but she’d kept me and my brothers under such a careful eye that getting out of Iowa City had been the only thing I’d wanted. I guess it was a good thing; it motivated me to get through college, and go somewhere, anywhere, and it had left me determined. Or confused. One of the two.

  It was a wonder my brothers had turned out marginally normal, but they probably had my dad to thank for that. Amy was supposed to be on a date tonight, but right now I wasn’t sure she wanted to be home alone—especially with Ricky still in town.

  I grabbed the box of candy I kept under the coffee table for emergencies and waved it at her. "C'mon. It's sugar rush time. Go find us a bottle of wine, and let's plot the demise of all idiot boys, consecutively and concurrently."

  Even at that moment, as I pulled the curtains closed, turned up the heating and searched through Spotify for 'breakup songs', I knew I couldn't be doing this indefinitely.

  I wouldn’t be going back to Iowa City, no matter what. I couldn't get used to coming home and finding Amy here, distraught after the next guy had messed with her.

  I needed to make some kind of change.

  What the hell was I going to do with my life? Okay, that was a big question for a Tuesday night, sure. I loved my job, loved being a cop. But I had a lot to do, and a lot to learn.

  I would hope to have done some traveling, I’d love to see the world. With someone else.

  Later that night, while I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed, Amy knocked on my bedroom door.

  "Hey, thanks for this. I owe you, big time." I didn’t ask her if she’d been messaging Ricky, and honestly, I didn’t want to know.

  "No problem, babe. Get a good night's sleep." She closed the door carefully, and my Good Samaritan work was done for the day. This was the only part of my life that could get tricky, but I would manage.

  Three

  Sunday morning I headed to a coffee shop nearby to review our last training tape. I should have stayed in my apartment until this had blown over, but I was getting itchy and irritable. Walking in, I did my best to avoid the gazes of all of the employees and customers who seemed determined to make me uncomfortable.

  The waitress took my order and headed for the coffee pot, but I was already thinking about last night. The photo opportunities and hospital visits I'd done were beginning to raise my profile, and I'd get stopped on the street once or twice a week now and asked to sign something. Not that I cared about being famous, but it was a part of branding the team and turning people on to soccer, and I accepted that.

  The cop who busted Ricky and I last night had been gorgeous - tall and curvy, chestnut hair tied up in a ponytail. I found myself thinking about her, and what she'd look like out of that uniform.

  "Ha, not much chance of seeing that," I said to myself. The look on her face when she let us out made it plain that she wasn't a Thunderbirds fan.

  Not yet, maybe.

  Only one way to find out about Tanya; I was a stranger, so she and her friends wouldn't know me. I put the book away and just looked around me, taking it all in. Maybe I could ask around about her?

  I took a swig of my coffee and chuckled as I set the mug back on the table.

  "Hey, man. You're Will Dempsey, right?"

  I looked up from my coffee and video to see a young guy in front of me, leaning over the table.

  "Yep, that's me. What can I do for you?"

  He bit the corner of his lip, and looked from me to the door and back again. "Could you sign this, please?" Holding out a glossy photo, he smiled nervously.

  “I— okay.” It was one of the Photoshopped-to-hell ones from my days at Arsenal in the English Premier League. I looked like a Goddamned boyband member. Still, PR is PR. "Sure, dude."

  “Thanks, that's awesome.” He looked at me gratefully, and nodded. "Also that video of you last night, man - that was unjust. You weren't doing nothing."

  Uh-oh. "Yeah, look, I guess I shouldn't-"

  "That lady cop comes in here sometimes, and if I see her I'm gonna tell her she shouldn't have treated you like that. Seriously."

  I shook my head. "Thanks, but stay out of it, honestly. I was out of line, and she was just doing her job."

  "But-"

  A thought struck me. "Don't suppose you know what her name is? I'd like to apologise, you know? I'm new here, and I don't want to get off on the wrong foot with the police force."

  His brow furrowed in concentration. "Tanya, I think?" Turning, he gestured to the counter. "Ask Sam. She knows everyone by name who comes in here."

  "Thanks, I'll do that." Keen to change the subject, I narrowed my eyes. “Are you a soccer player?”

  He paused, then nodded.

  “Yeah, just started here.”

  "Good man. Keep practicing, okay?" It was easy to get dismissive of fans, but they were people, too, and more often than not the players forgot that.

  He smiled broadly. "I will, man. Hey, I should stop interrupting you. Thanks again and good luck for Saturday!"

  "Anytime, dude. See you round." He retreated, and I went back to my video reviews. After five minutes, I sighed and paused the tape.

  She was pretty. Actually, that’s too bland a statement. She was stunning.

  Just a shame she seemed to have a hate on for soccer players.

  I was at the register, waiting for my bill to be rung up when a text came through on my phone. It was Joe, saying he'd finished and was meeting me at the field for training. I didn’t want him to quiz me about what had happened last night, but it might not be avoidable. I called him, waiting for him to pick up.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “You want to come over?”

  “Dude, while I’d love to spend the evening with you, I’m not planning on being the reason you’re late to practice.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll be there in a minute.” I rang off as I paid my bill.

  “Great coffee,” I said when the waitress had finished. "Thanks."

  She raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Anything for a future hometown hero, Mr. Dempsey. Although you better watch out for Tanya from now on. Sounds like she took a pretty dim view of your hijinks last night."

  Oh, man. Now everyone has an opinion. "Sam, isn't it?"

  She nodded. "That's me. Look, it isn't my business, but Tanya's got a good heart, seriously."

  I laughed. "I'm sure she does, ma'am. She sure doesn't sound too keen on me, though."

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t change her mind.” She smiled as she shook her finger at me. “I’m not much of a soccer fan, but even I recognise you in this town. Look, maybe you could come up with a peace offering?”

  I looked dubious. "What do you suggest?"

  "Well, uh," a glint came into her eyes, "why not pay for her coffee, right here? She comes in every morning, and I'll tell her you did it."

  "Mmmm." I paused. This was a bit
of a con trick, but it was well-meant. "Okay, you got me." I handed over my card again. "Rack 'em up, courtesy of Will."

  She took the card, and swiped it again. "Done. I'll tell Tanya next time she's in it's from you." A smirk. "You've done the right thing, Mr. Dempsey."

  This right here was why I didn’t date. Women were just trouble from beginning to end. I didn't want my team or my agent to waste any time on me when I was doing this kind of thing with girls.

  I hurried out the door and tried to push Tanya out of my mind. I couldn’t help but think of all I’d come to learn about her in the past day, and all I still had no idea about.

  I slipped the tape into Joe's pigeonhole at the training center, then hurried back into the car and turned it around, trying but failing to focus on tomorrow and on training.

  But I was going to think about Tanya regardless.

  Four

  I’m an idiot. A complete idiot.

  Sam bit back her chuckle as I told her exactly what I wanted. “Give it to me again.”

  I shook my head. “You heard.”

  She crossed her arms and looked me right in the eyes. “That was a gift for you. He was trying to make amends.”

  I scowled at her. “Same goes for me.”

  “That’s the unfortunate thing.” She pursed her lips. “Is there anything he could do at this point to change your mind?”

  I shrugged. Did I want that? “No.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Girl, you are impossible sometimes.”

  It was the voice she used to warn me it was pointless to argue; she knew what was right for me, and no amount of complaining on my part was going to change it. She was right.

  Will would have no reason to talk to me any more after I'd rejected his peace offering of paying for my coffee.

  And what had I done since then?

  I'd made fun of what he was doing here in front of Sam, and said he didn't belong.

  Great. I can’t make up for what I did to Will, but at least I can make it up to my new home for the same reason.

  It’s what I thought I was meant to do with my life, the reason I worked so hard to have a career in the force, why I moved here in the first place...

 

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