"You like it better than the real thing?"
"Not quite," I told her.
"Sometimes it's better than being knocked up."
"You get off a lot like this?"
"Sometimes," she smiled and nestled her head on my shoulder.
The waitress came up.
"Same for her," I said. "Nothing for me."
When the waitress went away I said, "Thanks for the chat. See you around."
Well, I was still in the clear. I hadn't taken a drink. I felt better about that. I hadn't been laid. I didn't feel so good about that now. But that wasn't what mattered. What mattered was Binks. Would he give me another chance to play football?
"Don't forget," she said. "You can always find me at Larson's Supermarket."
"Rebellion prices
"You're funny," she said.
Yup. That's me. Matt Scallen. A real card.
Chapter 2
I went straight out to Rodger Binks' office.
"Matt Scallen," I told the girl at the desk. "To see Mr. Binks."
"One moment, please. I'll see if he's in."
Where else would he be, but in? Who was she kidding?
"Mr. Scallen to see you," she said into the telephone.
There was a long pause while Miss Receptionist played cool-eyed, listening to whatever Binks was telling her. I had a good idea what he might be asking. She put down the telephone and showed all her super-white teeth.
"You can go in," she said.
Binks hadn't changed. Not a lot heavier than when he'd quit quarterbacking for Pittsburgh ten years ago. The office was expensive but plain. No autographed pictures of old buddies and this year's heroes. Not even the wife and kiddie picture on his desk.
He just looked at me. The same old flat gaze.
"I thought you were selling stocks and bonds," he said.
I grinned. What else could I do? I picked out a chair and sat down.
"Are you off the sauce?" Binks asked.
"Nothing to drink in a year," I said.