Chapter Twenty-Seven
Fear begins to creep through my body as I stare at Hadleigh. Before I even know what I’m doing, I reach out and put my hand on her arm in a comforting manner.
“Hadleigh, did Xavier hurt you?” I ask urgently. “Did he … get aggressive with you? Put something in your drink? Not take no for an answer?”
She immediately looks horrified. “What? Oh my God! NO! Nothing like that! Xavier was a perfect gentleman!”
From the embarrassed and mortified expression on her face, I know she’s telling me the truth. I exhale in relief. “Thank God.”
She pauses for a moment, closes her eyes briefly, then looks at me. “It’s something I did. Whenever I think of Xavier, I kind of want to pry loose a floorboard somewhere, crawl down below it, have someone nail it shut over me, and forget my existence.”
I can’t help but smile at that. Even when she’s embarrassed, she’s funny. “Okay, we won’t talk about him,” I say breezily. “So should we get our drinks?”
Now she’s the one exhaling. “Thank you. I’m so glad you don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, that’s not exactly true,” I tease. “Would I like to know what happened? Of course. I’m invested in the ‘Hadleigh meets Xavier’ journey. But it’s your story to tell. Or not.”
“Not. Definitely not,” Hadleigh says, looking as if she’s getting nauseous reliving whatever happened in Las Vegas. Then she brightens. “Have you ever been here? The coffee is so good!”
Damn it. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” is definitely true for Hadleigh and Xavier.
As she chats about coffee, my brain sifts through what I know. She’s super embarrassed, but Xavier was a gentleman. So what on earth happened that has her acting like this?
I decide I’ll never figure it out, so I focus on what flavor matcha I want tonight instead. As soon as I see they have peppermint, I place my order. Hadleigh decides on a gingerbread chai latte. We go back to the same table I was at before and take a seat while we wait for our drinks.
Hadleigh smiles at me. “Why do I feel like I’m speed dating?”
“Have you done that?” I ask, curious.
“Once.”
I look over my shoulder and back at her. “When are your next speed-dating friends arriving?” I tease. “Are you about to set the timer on your phone, and then your next potential friend candidate is going to take my seat?”
She bursts out laughing, looking so much more at ease than she did a few minutes earlier when she brought up Xavier Williams.
“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” she says.
“So what was speed dating like?”
“Oh my God, it was an event for my sorority. It was great. I eliminated an entire roster of fraternity boys in one hour!”
We easily fall into conversation, only taking a break to get our drinks.
I discover that Hadleigh has lived in Miami her entire life, and that Isla Foley—the F1 reporter—has been her best friend since high school.
We talk about our experiences in college, and what it’s like to navigate this post-graduation world.
I can tell she’s incredibly smart—she works in data analysis for a shipping company—and very, very funny.
“So working at Real Miami must be fun,” Hadleigh begins, pausing to take another sip of her chai. “What’s it like?”
I tuck my feet up underneath me in my chair. “It’s a job a lot of people want. I’m still learning it, to be honest. Let me preface what I’m about to say next. I know I’m lucky to work in sports media. It’s interesting. But I think my heart lies elsewhere. No. I know it does.”
Her blue eyes spark with interest. “Go on.”
“I love photography. That’s my favorite part of my job now, when I get to photograph players for social media. I want to do that full-time, and my dream would be to photograph hockey. It’s the sport I grew up with. I’m passionate about it, I know it—it’s a part of my DNA.”
Her brow creases in thought. “I haven’t seen your work, but I’m going to assume you’re good at it if Real Miami is using your pictures, so let’s just say for the sake of this conversation you’ve got talent. Surely your dad could get you in with the Manatees, right?”
I wince. She smiles softly. “Did I hit a nerve?” she asks.
I poke my straw around, gently swirling the ice cubes in the nearly empty glass. “I don’t want to get a Manatees job because my last name is Rivershon.”
“What is with my friends not wanting to use the opportunities they have?” Hadleigh suddenly says. Then she brightens. “That’s it. My purpose has been uncovered. I’m here to help people achieve their career dreams. Maybe I need to become a career counselor.”
“I’m sorry. What?”
She giggles. “I should back up. I called you a friend. I consider you an official friend now. Is that okay?”
Happiness zips through me. “I will happily accept the opportunity to be your friend.”
“Yay!” Hadleigh says, grinning. Then her face goes back to being serious. “I have a story. Do you need to refill your latte first?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Okay. Well, Isla had this same problem this spring. Caleb gave her opportunities he wouldn’t give any other reporter, and at first, she was afraid to take them. She didn’t want to earn her advantages that way.”
“That’s exactly how I see it.”
“But here’s the thing,” Hadleigh says, leaning forward.
“Life sometimes gives you advantages. I think you have to take them. Isla ended up taking advantage of the opportunities Caleb gave her, which led to a career. But if she weren’t a damn good reporter, she wouldn’t have her own show or be covering F2.
I think you take whatever advantage you are graced with and use it to show why you should have the job, no matter what your last name is. ”
I consider her words. “But I don’t want to take a job away from someone.”
“Who says you’d be doing that?” Hadleigh challenges. She takes another sip of her latte, then pauses. “Do I have cinnamon on my upper lip?”
I grin. “Nope.”
“Okay. If it starts to gather there and look like stubble, please let me know.”
I burst out laughing. “I promise I will.”
“Back to my point. If your dad gets you in to show what you can do, and stays out of it after that? Then it’s up to the Manatees to decide what photographer they want to use.
That’s fair, and that’s life. It’s all about networking and who you know, and if you don’t use your advantages, someone else who knows someone in the organization will. ”
I bite my lip. I never thought of it like that.
“Maybe you can start with a secondary freelance role. Work when you can or when you don’t have MLS responsibilities.
I think it would be wise to be there. I mean, you never know what might happen.
What if that photographer retires? Moves on to another team?
You could be at the top of the list to replace him or her. ”
I digest everything she’s saying. I’ve never looked at it this way before.
She’s right, I think, hope filling me. Anyone else in my position would take advantage of this.
“Ooh, you’re thinking about it,” she singsongs.
“I am.”
“I one hundred percent need to be a career advisor,” she says, a smug little smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
“Why don’t you?” I ask. “You’d be good at it.”
Her smile fades. “I went to school for a practical career. I’m good at analyzing things.”
“Well, you’re pretty good at analyzing people, too,” I say.
She brightens. “You really think so?”
“Yeah, I do. Would you ever consider a career change?”
“I need to sort a few things out. Work has been slowing down lately, and at first I liked it, but now it’s making me worry a bit. Like, why is my workload suddenly decreasing?”
I nod. That would worry me, too.
“I admire Isla so much,” Hadleigh says. “She’s doing something she’s so passionate about. I can’t say I’m passionate about data analysis of shipping and container issues.”
I study her for a moment. She’s so bubbly and energetic and funny, I can’t imagine her sitting in a cubicle in some nondescript office, crunching numbers all day long.
“If you could do anything, what would you do?” I ask.
“That’s the thing. I have no idea. I don’t think I can do what I’m doing now for the rest of my life.” Then she brightens again. “I think I want a cookie. Do you want one? It’s my treat.”
“If there’s anything up there that’s peppermint and chocolate, I will happily accept it.”
Hadleigh gets up to get some baked treats, and I consider her words again. She’s not wrong. I would never have admitted that before, but I will now. Sometimes you’re given advantages in life.
And it’s not necessarily wrong to use them to open a door.
Would some people judge me for it if I were lucky enough to get an opportunity to shoot the Manatees?
Yes.
But people are always judging others, aren’t they? I know some people at Real Miami think I got the job because of my dad, which isn’t true. If my work is good enough for the Manatees to hire me, then that’s all that matters.
I frown. But when would I do this? Ask Dad a few weeks before I drop the Aiden bomb on him? No. I need to get through the Aiden situation first, let the dust settle, and then ask him if I can show my work to the media relations department.
If Dad forgives Aiden, that is.
And that’s something I’m not sure will ever happen.