Page 35 of Cut Off
We migrate to the kitchen where we can talk. I pour him a glass of water as he sits at the counter and just sort of falls forward onto his elbows.
“We lost by a goal. And they put me on leave,” he says into his hands. “I’ve been pulled out of the next eight games. To get my home situation right and—” He waves vaguely. “Conditioning. The new role. Defense isn’t muscle memory yet. Coach was harsher and used mostly swear words, but that’s what he said.”
“That’s good, though. Right? The leave?”
“Yeah.” He laughs, but there’s nothing in it. “It’s good. It‘s also the first time in my career I’ve been put on leave for something other than a suspension.”
“I think that’s a good thing, Jonah. And you needed leave.”
“I know.”
I lean closer. “Eli destroyed me at chess.”
His head comes up. “What?”
“Four games. He won all four. He was being polite by the fourth one.”
“He plays chess?”
“Heowns chess. Also, he made mac and cheese from scratch, with a roux, and he corrected me on the milk temperature.”
“With a what?”
“A roux, Holt. Keep up.”
A laugh bursts out of him, and it’s loud in the quiet kitchen, and it heats up my skin in a way that I’m going to absolutely not deal with right now—or ever.
“He wanted three stories,” I say. “Two night-lights. The closet open six inches, exactly, measured with a ruler.”
“Six?”
“Not five. Not seven.”
“Did you do it?”
“Of course.”
He studies me. “Thank you.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m serious.”
I quirk a brow. “I know you are. That’s why I’m telling you don’t.”
I almost bring up Mel—the words are right on my tongue. Hey, by the way, a big station in a big city offered me a real job, and I have seventy-two hours… actually, only about sixty left to decide.
His phone rings.
He looks at the screen, and his whole face collapses, then braces. “Ms. Hernandez.”
He answers. He listens. He doesn’t say much. “Yes.” “I understand.” “Yes, of course.” “Tomorrow.” His free hand finds the edge of the counter and stays there, gripping. After he hangs up, he doesn’t move.
“What?”
“Emergency meeting tomorrow. Judge’s chambers. Nine a.m.”
“Emergency about what?”
