13. Will
13
Will
I stand in front of my marketing team, ready to head into another meeting with my sports director and athletic committee. It’s all starting to feel real. I peer around the table, my eyes pausing on a well-rested Alice. My mouth quirks with the desire to grin at her. She made me breakfast again today. This time, bacon—the bacon I’d purchased and was saving for a BLT dinner later in the week—but hey, she cooked. The girl has no qualms about opening my fridge and using my food. And in a strange way, that makes me smile too. I might have had other plans for that bacon, but I can always buy more. It pleased her so much to cook in my kitchen again. She’s always commenting on how pretty my pots and pans are—the ones that cost a pretty penny and the ones I’ve used a mere handful of times. She might as well use them.
When my gaze lingers on Alice in her gray plaid suit coat, the ends of her coat as long as her matching skirt, for five seconds too long, I clear my throat and blink away. “Thanks, everyone. Good work today. We’ll talk more tomorrow. For now, go home, build your marketing plan, and let’s focus on branding and what’s best for this team. In the meantime, wish me luck. I’m off to talk coaches with Jeffery.” I hold up my crossed fingers. “I’m hoping we can convince Jet Jacobson to make this move with us.”
Theo nods. Mateo joins him. They agree with my choice. Mason smiles, also pleased with the name I’ve dropped. And Alice, who shouldn’t know a darn thing, gasps.
All eyes at the table switch from me to her. I’m staring at her too.
She raises one palm in the air—like a kid in school. But before I can call on her officially, she’s talking. “I know him!” she belts. She looks around the room as if this news should make everyone else excited too.
But I, along with the rest of the team, just stare at her confused.
“Jet Jacobson?” she says. “Guys, I know him!”
Theo snorts, and Mateo chokes out a full-blown laugh. They glance at each other—that judgmental, mocking look they love to give one another.
“No, I do!” Alice says, still smiling.
I shrug. “You probably do know a Jet Jacobson. I’m sure there are a few out there?—”
“No,” she says, this time with annoyance rather than excitement. “Will, I do. Believe me. I know Jet.”
“Sure, you do,” Theo says, his tone cutting.
“He plays soccer,” she says in earnest.
Another chuckle from Mateo.
I might give Mason a raise for simply not laughing at another team member. Simultaneously, I’m going to tax Mateo and Theo for being jerks.
Alice may be confused—but that doesn’t mean we mock her.
“Do you have any idea how many soccer players there are out there?” Mateo says. “It’s only the most popular sport in the entire world.”
Alice smacks her hand to the tabletop. “I know Jet Jacobson. He’s married to Ebony. He makes delicious chocolate chip pancakes, and he lives in Colorado. And sure, I haven’t seen him in a decade, but I know him. He went to school with my stepmom in Texas. They’re friends.”
“So…” Theo says, eyes narrowed on Alice. “You have an active imagination, and you can google. We’ve already learned that, princess.”
“Alice, I thought you didn’t know soccer,” I say—because I don’t believe Alice has an overactive imagination. And I don’t believe she’d purposely lie. Either there are two Jet Jacobsons in Colorado, or it’s possible Alice does know my hopeful-to-be coach.
“I don’t know soccer. He’s a family friend. One that we didn’t see often. Mom and Dad took me to a game once, but I was a kid. I fell asleep. Man, it was boring.”
Mason gasps—I feel you, buddy. That hurts.
But I keep my cool.
“The next time they went to a game, they left me with my grandmother. I begged not to go.”
I nod, my brows furrowed, trying to follow the conversation. It’s not that I don’t believe her… but I’m confused.
“Will,” she groans. She peers around the table, her lips forming a tight line. Alice shakes her head. It’s clear that none of us are convinced. “Fine! I’ll prove it.”
She pulls her phone from her pocket and taps the screen. Then all at once, her phone is ringing—on speaker.
“Ahh, hello? Hello?” says a woman. She sounds distracted. “Alice, you okay, honey?”
“Mom, which team does Jet play for?”
“Jet?” Alice’s mom says—I’m assuming with what she’s told me, she’s speaking to her stepmom.
“Yes, which team?”
“He hasn’t played in years, sweetie. Can this wait?”
“No,” Alice grumbles—the most impatient sound I’ve ever heard her make. “Which team did he play for, then?”
“Well—” There’s a clanging in the background. I have no idea what Alice’s stepmom is doing, but she’s clearly busy. “He started in Europe. After he got hurt, he played for the Atlanta Rhinos. He ended up with the Rapids. He’s been an assistant coach there for years now.”
Alice lifts her chin, a grin on her face. “See?” she says to the table. “I know him. Hey, Mom, can I get Jet’s number from you?”
“Um, sweetheart, I’m actually in the middle of a gastrointestinal extraction. Can I send it later? He follows you on Instagram, just FaceTime him. I’m sure he’d have lots of advice with your new job. Good thinking. But?—”
Another clanking noise.
“Alice, I have to go, honey.”
“Sure, no problem. Thanks for answering, Mom.”
Alice ends the call, and the room sits in silence for five, then six seconds. The woman does know Jet Jacobson. She knows him. I’ve met plenty of famous people—as Will, sitting in for Billy. They all forget me because I’m just Will. But then, fame has never really impressed me.
I love soccer. Always have. I admire the player, the skill, the focus, the agility, not the fame.
“You know Jet Jacobson? The Jet Jacobson. Personally?” Mason says, his eyes wide. I’m keeping it together—I’m experienced at pretending—but man, I know just how the guy feels.
“Yeah.” She lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Not well. But I do.” Alice shakes her head. “I forgot he played soccer.”
“You forgot,” Mateo huffs out a strangled breath.
“Nah, I still don’t believe it,” Theo says. “She planned this show.”
Alice crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes rolling.
She didn’t orchestrate anything. If she’d wanted to impress me with her player knowledge, she would have done so a long time ago.
“Well, I believe her,” I say. “Alice, would you mind joining me in my next meeting?”