“Welcome to the show, Melody Dunne, or should I say Quarterback Princess?” Chet Arnold sits across from me in an armchair, smiling like we’re dishing all the hot goss on a new reality show,The Real Quarterbacks of New Orleans.
“Nobody really calls me that anymore,” I say with a light laugh from where I’m sitting in a matching armchair.
“You’re still it, though,” he teases. “And I’ve wanted to have you on the show for a year now.”
“All you had to do was ask, Chet.” I give him a knowing smile.
I know exactly why he flew all the way down to New Orleans to film a special guest collaboration with me—and why he didn’t make the effort last year.
Lately, my coverage of Knox has gone international, with more people tuning in for the Saints games than ever before.
“Tell me, what got you so focused on the Saints’ quarterback?There are several talented players in the league. Why Knox Bradford? Or shall we call himK-Brad?”
He adds the last part with a chuckle, and I shift in my seat, considering my answer. “The Bradford Boys have always been fun to watch, even when I was a young girl?—”
“Growing up as the daughter of Scout Dunne and niece of John Roth Dunne, for those unfamiliar with your background.” He looks at the camera and winks.
“Coming from a football family did help,” I concur, glad to broaden my potential reasons away from a bad night in an Uber.
“But you’re not connected to the Bradfords in any way,” he clarifies.
“No, Chet, I’m just a southern girl who grew up watching SEC games on Saturdays and the pros on Sundays and Mondays.”
“And the Saints?” He tilts his head.
“They’re a storied program with a rich history. They’ve had Archie Manning, Drew Brees… They had a dramatic comeback after years of losing seasons to win the Big Game against the Colts, where they went up against Archie’s son…”
“It is a fun history,” he cuts in, smiling like we’re sharing fond memories.
“Knox Bradford has the potential to be the next big thing. If he can get out of his own way and stop playing hero ball.”
“Ouch!” Chet makes a comical noise as his eyebrows rise. “And that’s what makes you so entertaining to have in our ears during the games—that sharp wit, combined with your football knowledge.”
I hold my smile steady. I hadn’t intended to go hard on Knox while visiting this show. It doesn’t help that Chet seems to amplify everything I say. Knox would spank my ass for it.
A flash of heat moves through my lower stomach, and Ishift in my chair. I remember us together in a bathroom at Razoo’s. It’s a wonder we didn’t burn the place down. That was achingly hot and not nice at all.
“This is your open invitation to watch the games with me each week,” Chet continues. “We’ll do a split-screen play-by-play, yes?”
My attention returns quickly to the guy sitting across from me, and I consider his offer. “I don’t really co-host anymore, but thanks anyway.”
“Ah, yes, I remember you had a bit of a falling out with your last co-host, Susan Jackson? Something about being too harsh on your subjects?” He gives me a grin, and I can almost hear him sayingGotcha!
My throat pinches, but I force my expression to stay relaxed. I don’t like being on camera for this very reason. I’m a terrible actor, and if something makes me uncomfortable, it’s written all over my face.
“We had different goals,” I say with a tone of finality.
Chet holds up his hands. “Understood. What if we just called it a special edition? You can be my guest for a one-time, New Orleans versus Texas showdown, right here in the Big Easy.”
I feel like I should’ve anticipated this. I vaguely remember a text I got from this guy not so long ago. I also remember he and Susan had similar feelings about luring guests into their webs and then flipping the script on them.
“I’ll think about it and get back to you.” I look at my wrist, ready to wrap this up.
“Playing hard to get?” He grins, leaning forward and touching my arm. “Take a look at how much the fans would love it.”
He waves his hand to the screen behind us. It’s the projection of a computer screen with our video in the middle and comments rising faster than rice boiling over in water.
Users with screen names like “Blitzbabes” and “KelceYouLater” post responses ranging from “Baby, just say yes!” to “Don’t puss out, QP!” to “Who gives a fuck what she thinks?”
