There’s a tinge of amusement in her voice, as if she’s truly enjoying playing the victim at my expense.
“Wait, Lisa–”
When she hangs up on me, I toss the phone a second time, and this time it lands in the waste bin. A few moments later it rings again and I want to ignore it, but the sound of it vibrating inside the metal trash can is driving me bat shit crazy, so I answer the call on my smart watch instead.
“What?” I answer curtly.
“Brick, it’s Joyce, and I’ve got Phillip on the line as well.”
Joyce and Phillip are my personal dynamic duo. Joyce is my publicist and Phillip is my agent. They’ve been with me almost since the very beginning, when no one thought I had a chance in hell of making the NFL.
The media dubbed me “Mr. Irrelevant” after I was the last player picked in the NFL draft. But I was determined to become very relevant in the world of sports, and with hard work and the help of these two, that’s exactly what I’ve become once I was traded from the team who was last place in the league to where I play now, with the five-time Super Bowl champion team, New York Nighthawks.
“I know who it is.”
“Based on your bitter tone, it’s obvious that you’ve seen all the chatter about your break up online?”
I waltz over to the waste bin and switch the call over to my phone.
“Do you see what they’re saying, Joyce? She’s trying to ruin me!” I explode. “A moment ago I was the rags to riches golden boy in the NFL and now they’re talking about Brick Jennings like I’m some sort of serial killer because of who I decide to date or not date.”
“Okay, first of all, I need you to stop referring to yourself in the third person. That’s weird.”
“Whatever.”
“And I realize the stories may seem a little one-sided–”
“That’s putting it mildly. I never touched that woman unless we were fucking.”
“Well, she didn’t exactly say that you physically abused her.”
“Physical, mental, whatever the fuck, I didn’t do any of it!”
As usual, Joyce is doing all the talking as Phillip sits on the phone and listens quietly. He only speaks up when asked a direct question or if we’re specifically discussing money.
“What do you think, Phillip?” I ask to see if he’s even paying attention.
There’s a pregnant pause on the line and then he asks me the most irritating question as only Phillip can.
“Why did you end things so publicly with her? Did you actually make a conscious decision to jilt her in a neighborhood coffee shop, or was that a spontaneous decision?”
“I didn’t exactly dump her,” I defend myself. “I mean, it was my idea to end things, but she didn’t seem that broken up about it. It felt like we were moving in that direction, anyway.”
“Women are always angry about being dumped,” Joyce adds. “No matter if it was inevitable or not.”
“I’m telling you, she’s faking those tears and using my past to spread believable lies about our relationship. All she seemed to care about yesterday was if I was still going to appear on her show and you should have heard how cavalier she was today. It’s like she’s a different person.”
“You spoke to her today?” Joyce asks, worried.
“Yeah, so?”
“And said what?”
“I told her to take the video down, of course.”
“And what did she say?”
“She said the video was her truth, and she wasn’t doing it. Can I sue her ass for talking to me like I’m some sort of idiot?”
