The Manager's Role
We left for New York City on Thursday so that the team could practice at Madison Square on Friday and then have the game on Saturday. Everything went smoothly (or seemed to go smoothly) until someone knocked on my door at eight am on Saturday morning.
“Yeah?” I asked, opening it to find Carey supporting a very hung over, still half asleep PK.
“PK got fucked up.” Carey said quietly.
“I can see that.”
“We can’t let coach know. You mind helping me out?”
I grimaced. “Bring him in.”
Carey dragged PK into my room and sat him on the bed. PK automatically flopped backwards and pulled the edge of my blanket over his face.
I rubbed my face. “I’ll make some coffee and stuff. Can you run downstairs and get a bottle of water and a cup of orange juice?”
I started making the complimentary coffee that was left in the room and then started laying out my clothes for today. Black slacks and a light blue button down.
“Do the red lace underwear.”
I looked over at PK, shocked to see him watching me.
“Price loves red.”
I blushed out of reflex. “I don’t have any interest in Carey.”
“Funny, he says the same thing about you.”
I grabbed my socks and threw them at PK. “Get as much sleep as you can, asshole.”
“I wanna puke.”
I grabbed the trash can and put it next to the bed. “Puking the next morning? What are you, a high schooler?”
Instead of responding, he just leaned over the edge of the bed and hurled into the can. I wrinkled my nose and returned to my suitcase. There was a knock on my door and I opened it for Carey.
“How is he?” he asked, coming in.
I poured a cup of coffee, then I opened the minibar and pulled out the little bottle of Bailey’s.
“Uh, I don’t think he needs any more alcohol.” Carey said.
“The best cure for a wicked hangover is more alcohol. Hair of the dog, Carey.”
“And you get this from where exactly?”
“Please, I spent the entire week of my high school graduation drunk. I know my alcohol.”
I emptied the Bailey’s into the coffee and gave it to PK. I checked the time.
“Okay, I need to shower. That will wake him up and put him in a happy place. Then you need to rehydrate him. Have him drink the water.”
“What about the juice?”
“Oh, that was for you. When I’m done we’ll go to breakfast, but that should hold you off.”
He just looked at me and shook his head. “You really are a strange person, Sarah.”
I smiled and grabbed my things before heading into the bathroom.
“And Sarah?” he called.
“I like your bra.”
I blushed as I looked down at the red lace bra. “Shut up, Price.” I sputtered.