19. Alice
19
Alice
M y alarm is set for eight—so why is it ringing at five-thirty? And why won’t it turn off? The sun is low out my window. It’s just barely rising—why are my eyes open? Why won’t my phone shut up, and why is it singing that awful old rock tune?
I roll to my side, away from the window—and run right into a human. A person’s back. There’s a living, breathing man in my bed!
“Mwhaa!” I yelp when his back lifts and falls in breath.
With my yell, the man moves, arms flailing and turning so that he’s facing me. I ball my fist, rein back, and slug just as I focus in on the invader’s face.
Will .
“Ooph,” Will grunts, curling into a ball. He coughs.
It’s Will. I just punched Will in the gut.
Ohhh… that’s right. I did invite a man into my room last night. Even onto my bed. Whoa. Was that really the invitation I sent over last night? I need to rethink my requests before I just send them out into the cyber world.
“Alice?” he says through another cough.
I push up until I’m sitting next to him. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” I reach out, setting one hand on his shoulder. I never knew I could hit so hard.
He was there, adrenaline coursed through me, and bam—I hit that man harder than I’ve ever hit anything in my life.
“What’s going on?” he wheezes.
“We fell asleep. You’re on my bed. I—I woke up, and I didn’t remember, and then you were here, and then?—”
“Your fist ran into my stomach.”
“Yeah. That’s the gist.” I nibble on my bottom lip. “I’m so sorry, Will. If I’d known it was you?—”
“You would have gone for my face?”
“No!”
“I’m kidding,” he says, sitting up and rubbing a hand over his eyes and through his hair.
My heart pounds. I’m not sure if it’s the time, his nearness, or what I’ve done, but my body is well aware that something is different this morning.
“Do you always get up so early?” I say, glancing down at his phone on my bed, still ringing its alarm.
Will hits the stop button and yawns. “Yeah, I jog a few miles every morning.”
“Aw.” I nod. That makes sense. “Well, I don’t.”
“Right. I’ll go. Sorry, I must have been really out last night.”
I shake my head. We’re both exhausted on Billy’s schedule. “It’s okay. It’s my fault.”
Will sets a hand on my knee and shoots of warmth spiral over my limb. “Okay,” he says. “Can we agree that we fell asleep— accidentally —and no one needs to be at fault.”
“Except that I punched you. That was kind of my f?—”
“An accident,” he says, his brown hair mussed and kind of adorable. “It was an accident. And I’m pretty sure I’ll survive.”
“I hit you so hard.”
“I’ve been hit harder.” He stands, his arms stretching.
“That sounds like a story. Later?”
He grins. “If you’re lucky. See you at ten?”
Our meeting. My T-shirts, my scarves, my flags, my video. I nod. “I’ll be there.”
C oco bought me this cute skirt and jacket for my first real job interview after I graduated. I never had a reason to wear it. Turns out you don’t have to dress up too much for quilters or your dad. But today, I do have a reason.
I slip into the blue skirt, tuck in my white Red Tails T-shirt, and throw my jacket over the tee, making sure it’s buttoned to cover the Red Tail logo Chase and I worked so hard on.
My bag is filled with merch. There’s no longer enough to give every person in our meeting one of everything—but that’s okay. The Tesoro Thunder deserved a gift after their excellent performance.
I slip into my heels—powder blue to match my dress. I am ready and out the door thirty minutes before my meeting is set to start.
The sun rains down on me as I step from my car and walk into the office building. Summer is coming, and I’ve heard that summer is amazing in Tesoro. My nerves send a wave through my stomach, leaving me jittery. It was never like this when pitching an idea to Mom, Dad, or even the quilting club. I’m confident in what I’ve brought, but I’m a girly girl playing with the boys. The fact is, I don’t know soccer—not like Will, Theo, or the others.
I’m early when I reach the conference room, but Theo’s already there, his computer connected to the large television mounted on the wall at the front of the room.
“Oh, hey,” I say, stepping inside. “You’re early.”
“Yep. Setting up my pitch for the Rough Riders.”
It’s a good name. I don’t hate the name. I just happen to like Red Tails better. The red-tailed hawk has connections to both Reno and Tesoro. That’s important to Billy. While the Rough Riders, representing the Pony Express, only connect to Reno.
I nod. “You’re pitching first, then?”
“Yep.” Theo runs a hand through his sandy blond hair, and I am reminded of a 1950s character: pants rolled, tough guy, cigarettes in his sleeve, and a comb in his pocket to swipe through that grease in his hair. Theo does use too much product. It’s not all that inaccurate of a vision. I’m still staring when he says, “You ready?”
“Yep,” I say, popping my ‘p’ just as he had.
His brows lift, his eyes fixed on me. “Nice skirt.”
“Thanks,” I say, not caring that it wasn’t a compliment.
Minutes later, Mateo and Mason file into the room.
“You look nice, Alice. Were we supposed to dress up?” Mason looks from me to Theo, who’s in his usual golf pants and colored collared shirt.
“I have a tie in my car,” Mateo says.
“No need. We’ve got this.” Theo flicks his chin in Mateo’s direction.
“You’re presenting together?” Mason asks.
“We worked on it together, so yeah. Billy’s fine with it.” Theo rubs his hands together.
“He’s up first,” I tell Mason.
Mason grimaces. “These things always make me want to vomit.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great,” I tell him, sitting down in the seat I’ve assigned to myself. The one far from where Theo sits. “You can go before me and get it over with.”
“Thanks, Alice.”
Soon, Will and Zoe step through the glass doors. My eyes discreetly rove over Will. For some reason, I expected him to show signs of having been beat up by a girl this morning. But there’s no bandages or bruising—nothing visible at least. Maybe beneath that gray button-up there’s some kind of proof that I hit him this morning.
I’ve never hit anyone in my life.
I’m not even sure I knew that I could.
My hand tingled for a good hour after, but I’m fine now. Maybe I should have been an athlete. Maybe I’m stronger—physically—than I realize. I participated in ballet for years. It’s a good workout, there’s a ton of strength involved, but it’s not exactly a contact sport.
Will stands at the head of the room. He doesn’t look at me like a man who was punched just a few hours ago. No… he looks good. That button-up works for him. Will’s shoulders are broad. So very broad. Were they that broad last night when he came to my apartment? Was it the punch? Is it that shirt? Maybe a combo.
He claps his hands together. “All right, who’s up first?” He knows I’m excited, so it’s no shock when his eyes fall on me.
But Theo is already in place. “That would be us.”
Will takes the empty seat next to me, and we watch as Theo and Mateo present a semi-boring PowerPoint on the Rough Riders. It’s thorough and smart—but not exactly entertaining. There are black-and-white photos of Pony Express riders. There’s a quote from some guy in a funky hat with terrible chin hair that has nothing to do with soccer.
His logo is decent with a mean-looking horse head and a red mane. The words Rough Riders are written out in blocky caps beneath the horse, and the O in the word rough is a soccer ball.
It’s not terrible.
But mine is better.
“And that’s why Rough Riders is the name of our new team.” Theo grunts before slapping his hand with Mateo’s, his eyes on me.
“Okay,” Will says. “Alice?—”
“Mason’s up,” I tell him.
On my other side, Mason whispers a quiet thanks before pulling artwork from his briefcase. He has logos for both the Rough Riders and the Red Tails. And to my delight, his mockup includes a version for the Tesoro team as well the option for the Reno-Tesoro team.
“Alice?”
“Yeah.” My stomach flutters with butterflies. Who knew a soccer team’s name and logo would matter so much to me? But it does. This is right. I believe in it. And I want Billy to love it. I wish he would at least be on a conference call with us—but Will’s assured us he’ll pass along every piece of our information to Billy.
I stand at the head and connect my computer wirelessly to the television behind me. “It’s game day,” I say, unable to keep the grin from my face. “Who’s ready?”
The room is quiet. Theo coughs out a curt laugh. Mason looks worried for my life. Will gives me a small, encouraging grin.
I unbutton my jacket, sweep back the sides, and set my hands on my hips, showing off my Red Tails tee. “None of you, that’s for sure.”
“Hey,” Mason says, studying my shirt with a grin. “Nice.”
“Come on, let’s get ready.” I dig into my bag, pulling out a shirt that matches my own and toss it to Will. I toss a hat to Mason, a flag to Zoe, and two match-day scarves to Theo and Mateo. I pull out another cap and mash it over my carefully curled hair.
The logo Chase and I designed shines in bright red, gold, and black. It looks so good. Maybe not as good as it did on those kids out in the Tesoro sunshine, ready for a game, but even still, I love it.
“Who’s ready now?” I say before hitting play on my computer.
The Tesoro Thunder fill the screen, wonderfully diverse boys wearing my gear and chanting the chant they made up on the spot: “RT! RT! Here to fight! RT! RT!”
Theo grunts. But Mason’s nodding. Even Mateo smiles as he stares at the screen, at the happy boys in the gear I bought chanting and cheering for the team we’re attempting to brand and build.
Will’s eyes are glassy and happy. Like the others, his gaze is glued to the screen, to the boys laughing and chanting.
I give a short spiel about the red-tailed hawk, about its ties to Tesoro and Reno. I talk for less than two minutes. It’s so short compared to Theo’s speech. But I like it. I feel it inside of me.
“That’s it,” I say, my arms flapping at my sides.
“Thanks, everyone. I’ll take all of these to Billy. Just a reminder, I’ll be gone for a few days this next week—Alice too.”
Theo snuffs, his lip curling, though he knew I’d been invited to go with Will.
“While we’re gone, I want you to research what’s working in this area as well as Reno’s for advertising. What are people responding to? We’ll reconvene when I get back.”
Yep, Will and I are going to Denver in two days. Together . To see Jet.
“Alice,” Theo says. “Have you ever heard the term overcompensating?” He snickers, looking around for Mateo—but Mateo’s still admiring the scarf I gave him.
Maybe I was wrong before. Maybe I could hit someone on purpose. As long as that someone’s name is Theo.
“Alice, a minute?” Will says while everyone gathers their things.
Theo waggles his brow my way. Why does he always assume I’m in trouble? Are we in middle school?
What would he say if he knew Will woke up next to me this morning? For a minute, I’m tempted to tell him—without the whole punching incident part.
I don’t, because I’m not a dummy. I may be honest, but I also know when to be quiet. Well, usually. My family might say something different.
“Nice work.” Zoe wiggles her Red Tails scarf and winks at me before closing the door and leaving Will and me alone in the conference room.
“So, this is what you spent the majority of your paycheck on?”
“Yeah.” I grin. “Isn’t it great?”
“Nobody asked you to do that, Alice.” He sits on the edge of the table, studying me.
Huh. Maybe I am in trouble.
“I know that.”
“Do you even have enough money left over for food?”
“I do. Don’t worry about me, Will. I can take care of myself. This was important. It was right. Don’t you love it?”
He peers down at the T-shirt I tossed him. “It’s good. I like it,” he says, holding up the shirt by its sleeves and studying it. “But there’s no guarantee Billy will go with your idea. This was a lot of money and?—”
“I didn’t do this for a guarantee.” I pull the hat off my head. “Red Tails. Reno. It’s the right call. I know it is. I just want Billy to have the best visual he can. I believe in this idea. That’s why I did it.”
I hold out my extra bag, the one I brought for Billy. There’s a shirt, scarf, hat, and flag all inside. “Will you give this to him for me?”
Will looks at the bag in my hands.
“Please?”
He nods. “Yeah. I’ll give it to him.”