Page 4 of Bluffed By the Offense

“Definitely not. If something comes of it, I’m not asking anything but to be considered as the wedding photographer.” He laughs.

I laugh too. “See you tomorrow, Bryce.”

Coleman, one of our agents, comes in the front door, bringing a gust of sticky hot air along with him.

“Guess what!” he exclaims. And he doesn’t even wait for us to ask what. “Seventeen Cherry Hill Lane is on the market. The Woodsons are relocating to Virginia. They’re looking for a buyer who will love and care for that old home the same way they have.”

“Seventeen Cherry Hill?” I ask.

My dream home. I drive by that house at least twice a week on my way home from work. It’s not really on the way, but I take the long way just to get a glimpse at it. Sometimes I even park across the street from the sprawling lawn just to take in the craftsmanship of the old Queen Anne.

“You know that's my dream house, right?” I tell Coleman.

He doesn’t even skip a beat. “Buy it.”

“Oh yeah. I'll just go right down and buy it with my personal fortune and then I’ll keep it pristine with the savings I've set aside for renovations.”

Coleman laughs. “Sorry, Cass. In a perfect world, we'd all get to buy our dream homes.”

“One day,” I say, even though I know that one day is not very likely. Not with Seventeen Cherry Hill. It’s way out of my price range and probably always will be.

“I'm not giving up,” I say, despite the reality of my financial situation. “Maybe someone transient will buy it and fix it up for me. Then by the time I make my millions, I can buy it out from under them.”

Loretta chimes in. “That's the spirit, honey. Just keep on dreaming those big dreams.”

And, since Loretta has a Dolly song for every occasion, she starts singing Big Dreams and Faded Jeans.

Chapter 2

Marcus

All photographs are accurate.

None of them is the truth.

~ Richard Avedon

“Your split’s too wide,” I shout to Miles Owusu, our rookie wide receiver.

“Got it,” he says, shuffling a step.

“Better,” I say. “Let's run it.”

We’re wrapping up practice with an eleven-on-eleven.

I check the defense. Sutton is lined up in the middle, trying to get a read on my eyes, and Pierce is deep.

I’m going to send Owusu on a quick slant behind Sutton’s initial position.

I call for the snap.

Aaron Hayward drives up the middle, laser-focused on me like I’m actually on an opposing team and I just insulted his mother.

Owusu explodes off the line as if he's running straight downfield.

Darius Cole, our cornerback, is the first to pivot and backpedal.

Owusu cuts inside and breaks sharply toward the middle of the field.