Chapter 3 #2
“Do you really think you’re qualified for that position?
” I hear Derek’s mother in my head. That’s what she’d asked me when I told her I’d received an interview for the Operations and Events Director position here.
The woman has a remarkable talent for sniffing out my insecurities like a bloodhound with an axe to grind.
And in her defence—although it pains me to offer her any—she wasn’t wrong. It’s much larger than any organization I’ve ever worked for. And while I have a master’s degree in Business Administration, I don’t have that many years of experience in the field.
Even though I prepared for my interview with the dedication of an ultra-marathon runner, I never expected to get the job. But I did get the job.
And I’m good at it. At least, I think I am.
Alyssa adjusts her posture and smooths down the front of her blazer before meeting my eyes again. “So, Madelyn, who do you have in mind?”
I freeze as I am once again the unintended center of attention.
“Pardon?”
Her smile turns predatory. “You suggested an athlete. So, who can you get?”
Just because I know that Tyler Caine is wrong for the job doesn’t mean I know who’s right for it.
“I can get Mark Wheeler,” Danny volunteers, finally setting his phone down. “Our wives are first cousins.”
“Like Madelyn said: we’re raising money for children’s sport programs,” Alyssa imitates my voice in a way that’s just shy of offensive. “Kids don’t want to see some middle-aged golfer. I don’t care how many opens he’s won.”
“What about Neal McInnis?” Mallory pipes up. “We go to the same gym.”
“Who?” Alyssa asks, but before Mallory can answer she continues, “It needs to be a household name.”
Around me, the team is throwing out names like confetti, but none of them make the cut.
It’s like watching pigeons swoop for crumbs only to find them blown away in a strong wind.
Regardless of who’s talking, Alyssa’s gaze never strays from me.
She’s making one thing clear; I shot down her solution, so it’s my job to find another one.
Meanwhile, my brain is in full panic mode. I don’t follow sports. My dad once took me to Toronto to see the Blue Jays play when I was a kid. I mostly remember the snacks. Even if I could recall one of the baseball players I saw that day in 2002, I’m fairly certain they wouldn’t still be playing.
My mom is a big fan of curling, but I can’t think of a single rock-star curler. Derek goes to the occasional Raptors game with clients, but I wouldn’t classify him as a basketball fan, so he probably won’t be of any help.
I guess I used to follow hockey, but have avoided it since…
No. Nope. Absolutely not, Maddy. I can’t ask him. I can’t.
I feel the colour drain from my face at the mere thought. I haven’t even recovered from running into him on the street two weeks ago. When he asked if he could see me again and I flat out said “no.” What am I going to do?
“If you change your mind, or if you ever need anything, just give me a call.”
I replayed those words, along with the rest of our brief conversation, more times than I can count. If you ever need anything, just give me a call. But he wasn’t serious about that, right? That’s just something people say to their ex-girlfriends that they definitely don’t mean.
What am I supposed to do? Just pick up the phone and ask him for a favour?
“Hi Ben! Remember when you asked me to grab a coffee and I said ‘no’? How would you like to sign a contract committing yourself to a full-schedule of charity events spread over several months, for old time’s sake?”
I remind myself that this is not about me. It’s about the foundation, about the charity. We’re raising money to give kids who might never get the chance to play sports the opportunity to step onto the field, court, or rink and find something they love. Every child deserves that.
I think about the Gala, about Chanda’s calm but focused gaze, about the endless string of names Alyssa has already shot down.
And then I think about Ben, about how his easy charm and megawatt smile would light up the grandest of rooms. About how, for all his faults, he always cared about causes like this.
“Ma-de-lyn.” Alyssa’s over pronunciation of my name is most certainly a reference to our rocky introduction. “You’re awfully quiet. Anything to contribute?”
I look from her to Chanda and force myself to sit up a bit straighter. “I can get Ben Michaels.”
Complete silence.
“No shit?” Danny’s excited outburst breaks the tension in the room.
“He’s my son’s favourite player.” Chanda leans forward, her expression hopeful. Well, I have to ask him now. It would kill me to disappoint her.
“Even if you do know him, hockey players’ schedules are too demanding this time of year,” Alyssa’s protest is a borderline whine. “He’ll never do it.”
“The Otters play in Ottawa the day before the Gala and their next game is three days later.” Danny holds up his phone as though we can actually read the tiny schedule on the screen. “He could definitely make it work, if he wanted to.”
“Do you think he’ll say yes?” Chanda asks, obviously thrilled at the thought.
“I think so,” I tell her.
My head knows he will. It’s my heart that has no idea how to feel about it.