Call her ZADDY

Contact sports

Two days later a charcoal gray truck passed by as Gabrielle was chatting on the phone outside of her work. Hearing the loud engine, she glanced up, hoping it was Mick, and then looked back down feeling stupid. Thank God Johanna, who was on the other phone line, wasn't there to see it. She would have had a field day.
_____

"So, I heard Mick invited you to be his date to Ian's wedding," Johanna was in the midst of saying .

"Huh?" Gabrielle asked.

"Ian's wedding?...," Johanna drilled. "Are you going?

"Oh, Yeah sure, I'm going. It's no biggie. We are just going as friends."

Gabrielle reiterated the word "friends", already preparing to dodge another lecture . Lately she was constantly having to defend herself to both Johanna and the lawyer she was now casually dating that Mick was only her "buddy". This was not to be confused with the word "fuck buddy."

While Gabrielle knew that her friend only had her best interest at heart, the truth was she wasn't quite ready to give Mick up as a friend just yet. The reason? Well,...Mick was... fun. He was the most fun she'd had in years, if she really thought about it. Plus he had helped her learn to laugh at herself, which lets face it , was long overdue.

Ever the underdog when it came to Johanna, Gabrielle, decided to resort to Johanna's annoying love of contact sports in order to help plead her case.

———

Johanna started the kick off. "The only reason Mick even invited you to go to the wedding to begin with is because I'm out of town."

Johanna had come prepared, thought Gabrielle. If she was going to win this argument she would have to stay focussed. Her friend was sure to be on her A-game this morning.

"He invited me months ago, but since I'm too busy you may as well take my place," Johanna continued.

Gabrielle smirked. This was minor league material . Half the town already knew that Mick had asked Johanna months ago. Who cared if Gabrielle was his second choice?

"You do know what Mick used to call you behind your back, right?," Johanna advanced before pausing to heighten the suspense. "Don't you know he just loves calling you sea glass and telling everyone how vapid you are?"

"I get it. Mick hates me," Gabrielle checked dryly. "you've only reminded me like twenty different times,".

Gabrielle took a small sip of water and hoped for a brief intermission, but not before Johanna utilized the draw to slowly advance.

"Oh, my Gaaawwd," Johanna said slyly, "do you think Mick only invited you to the wedding in order to piss the groom off?"

Fuck, thought Gabrielle. Her opponent might have been on to something. It felt like another cheep move, Gabrielle thought bitterly.

Gabrielle tried to stay calm as Johanna blitzed on. "You realize that the groom used to have a major crush on you, right....? Johanna said while gaining momentum. She was heading dangerously close to her goal. "Hmm, do you really think Mick would do something that devious?"

It was silent for several moments as Gabrielle tried to think of a her next move. But the truth was, Johanna was right. She had no counter argument and no real skin in this game, Mick absolutely would do something that devious.

Despite her momentary defeat, Gabrielle had to smile a bit at how well she knew her best friend. Johanna was probably right then and there already doing her own little premature private victory dance back on the other end of the phone.

"Ha, Ha. I get. Mick's an asshole," Gabrielle laughed sarcastically. "Game over. You win. "

The conversation ended with a smug Johanna saying something about having to run, making it clear she had somewhere better to be. But Johanna had sorely underestimated her opponent. While, admittedly Gabrielle wasn't some tacky, nfl junkie , she still knew sports. And men. Plus was a god damn Olympian when it came to competition over men. She was nowhere near to throwing in the towel with Mick. Not even close. And the sad thing was that people like Johanna trying to warn her off of him only made her want to land his affections that much more. She'd win this guy Over in the long game simply for the bragging rights. Simply for the thrill of the slim odds. In six months time she'd have him eating out of the palm of her hand with no problem and kissing her non athletes feet.