Chapter 5
I stand in front of the mirror the next morning, trying to get ready for practice.
This process typically requires five minutes of face washing, ChapSticking, and French braiding.
However, this morning all I can think about is Daniel sitting behind his fancy TV desk wearing his fancy TV suit.
Will he be wearing a suit today? I was lucky if I saw Daniel out of his running shorts, track pants, and a reliable Stanford red zip-up back in the day.
This new polished version of him with five million followers is intimidating.
I survey my freckled face critically. Should I do my hair differently?
Put on some mascara and tinted lip balm?
How much deodorant is too much deodorant?
Despite my affection for vintage fashion, something I get from my mom, I usually wear sweats to practice.
We change into practice clothes when we get there, so there’s no purpose in wasting good outfits on practice.
But what about today? Will they film us as we enter the garage?
Will the cameras be on us the entire time?
Not only will Daniel be watching me, analyzing how I’ve changed, but there will also be film crews, directors, and interviews—an endless nightmare for an introvert with a low social threshold.
There are also three missed calls from a number I don’t recognize. They left a voicemail. I press play to listen to it and immediately drop the phone when I hear, “I didn’t know how to do this, Annie…but it’s me, Jack. I felt like I should reach out so we can…talk. Call me back at this number.”
I’m still staring at the phone when Jadea knocks.
I go to let her in with numb fingers. “I knew you’d be freaking out!
” She’s still brimming with the victory of booking Daniel’s show.
“What fabulous outfit are you going to randomly show up in today? Your vintage leather jacket? That burgundy corset that snatches your waist? Your velvet green boots?” Jadea is about to continue crowing about my absurdist fashion finds but stops when she sees my face. “What’s wrong? Did you hear more news?”
“He called. Jack,” I say finally, rubbing my arms to dispel the goosebumps. “He called a couple of times and left me a voicemail.”
Jadea looks as shocked as I feel. “I thought your mom insisted he stay out of your life. That was the agreement.”
I sigh at my reflection before swiping my keys off the kitchen counter. A Scarlet Arrows sweat suit, it is. It seems almost worse to dress up for Daniel and try to impress him. “I figure that agreement is now void. Even ESPN knows about our relationship.”
We leave the apartment together, heading down the stairwell. “I wonder how it’s going with his wife,” Jadea muses, hoisting her practice bag higher up her shoulder. “I assume she never knew about you. That would be a tough thing to hear on SportsCenter.”
We spill out into the lower level of the parking garage, making a beeline towards my sensible red Prius. The lights in the garage flicker ominously, matching my mood. “He has a son, too,” I remember aloud, swallowing nervously. “My b-brother. Trenton or something? He’s in his forties.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jadea says, getting into the passenger seat. She won’t be late today. “We met them both at some charity event, right? The son was blonde, blue-eyed, wearing an expensive watch. Exactly what you’d expect.”
Blue-eyed. Just like me?
I pull out of the garage, feeling a light sweat break out on my brow. Between Daniel coming back into my life with a full-on camera crew, and my new twisted family life, my body is freaking out. “Oh my God!” Jadea suddenly shouts. I nearly hit my head on the roof in surprise.
“Shit, Jadea! You scared me!”
Jadea ignores me, tapping a perfectly manicured finger to her lip. “Do you think you’ll be a part of Jack’s will? Are you going to inherit any of his fortune?”
Now I’m full-on sweating. My voice gets squeaky. “What? No! I’m not his daughter.”
Once Jadea sees my reaction, she tries to calm herself down.
We’ve always been good at the give-and-take.
Jadea is usually fast, loud, and sure of herself, whereas I’m more measured, slow, and precise.
The only time Jadea takes on that role is when she thinks I need it.
Another alarming sign. “Annie.” She speaks softly.
I try to focus on my breathing and not swerving off the road.
“He is and he isn’t. When he calls, you don’t have to answer.
When he tries to be a father after twenty-five years, you don’t have to let him.
But he isn’t going anywhere. These questions aren’t going anywhere.
We both know that.” I can only gape at her, pulling into our practice facility’s garage.
Our practice court is adjacent to Arch Arena, so our commute is only a few minutes.
We’re lucky to be coupled with an NBA team because we get to use their facilities.
I know some of the WNBA teams don’t have that luxury and practice in smaller, inconvenient practice facilities, like local YMCAs.
Of course, it also means that people don’t see value in us, but in our NBA counterpart.
I’m jealous of teams like the Las Vegas Aces, who built a multi-million-dollar practice facility just for them. Not a single men’s team in sight.
Once we’re safely in my parking spot, I press my forehead against the steering wheel, absorbing Jadea’s words dejectedly. “Was it too much to hope that things could just stay the same?”
Jadea has never been one to soften the blow. “Yes.”
I breathe out a long sigh and then straighten resolutely. “I’ll think about it. I just have to decide what I want.” A seemingly impossible task when I feel so confused.
“And you’ll call your mom.” I already updated Jadea on our argument, and I know she wants us to make up already. She loves my mom.
I want to make up with her, too, despite all the secrets she kept from me. I’m just avoiding the hard conversation I know we’ll have to have. I sigh again. “And my mom.”
“Good.” Jadea breaks out into one of her beautiful smiles, one dimple popping in her left cheek. “Now, let’s go get you some Daniel Chan!”
I groan as we exit the car, slinging our practice bags over our shoulders. “Please stop with that! You’re just encouraging the others.” God, what if Jadea mentions to Daniel that I have a crush on him? Is it even possible to get out of this situation unscathed?
Jadea doesn’t miss a step. “That’s my intention.”
I groan in response. “Of course, it is.” I pray I can make it through today without embarrassing myself too much. I will be cool, calm, and collected. Polite. Distant. Professional. How many adjectives can I recite before seeing Daniel again feels almost mundane?
We weave our way up the garage and into the atrium of our practice facility. Jadea heads to the locker room with a spring in her step, chirping a hello to every security guard and facility staff member we pass.
After changing into reversible practice jerseys and our basketball shoes, we walk out onto the court.
I see most of my teammates also showed up early today, with Jadea and me the last two to arrive.
The atmosphere feels charged, almost electric, and inside, I ruefully admit that Jadea has accomplished at least one of her goals.
Instead of worrying endlessly about a scandal that may or may not explode, now the girls are just excited about our Daniel Chan piece.
Even Coach Rembert seems to be fighting a smile.
“Coach?” Taherah asks. “Should we start practicing, or do you want us to wait for Daniel Chan?” It’s as if no one can say his first name without his last. It just rolls off the tongue.
Daniel Chan, Daniel Chan, Daniel Chan. I’m so mesmerized with the ridiculous circle of my thoughts I almost miss her answer.
“After talking with Jadea, Daniel’s producer, Iris Langley, contacted me.
She was very respectful of our time. We agreed that it would be best to hold a meeting and make introductions before practice today.
They’ll also go over expectations for the next two weeks.
Besides a few extra interviews here and there, they will not be disrupting our practices.
” She slowly scans our loose huddle, catching our eyes.
“We are still the number one team in this league. And I will not let us be distracted, even if it is for good reason.”
We all nod solemnly, even Jadea. This piece may be a good fit for the team, and it may help with the possible Jack Smith repercussions, but winning a championship is still our first priority.
We had a taste of winning last year but ended up making enough small errors that we lost in the championship game.
I mentally wind myself up. New social situations are always stressful for me, but it feels a million times worse with Daniel because it’s not exactly new.
I know him intimately; he’s also a stranger.
He works in New York. He’s a TV star. He probably has a beautiful girlfriend.
I just need to ignore the past and focus on basketball.
Lying low. Fortunately, the spotlight isn’t just on me, it’s on the team and how we navigate the world of women’s sports.
No matter how personally difficult this is for me, Daniel is amazing at what he does.
Sports broadcasting was his major in college, though I know he always thought of it as something he would do after he retired from track.
A small part of me wants to tell him that he’s a natural at it, just like running.
And even though I’m furious at him for disappearing, there are so many things I could say that aren’t fueled by anger.
Should I mention how much I love his show? Should I mention that he’s changed my perspective on sports? That I cried the other day watching his piece on Paralympians and how they are shortchanged in terms of Olympic coverage?