Chapter 9 #2
She eyes the four beverages lined up in front of her as she slips into her chair. “No. No need. I usually slam about five
coffees a day to keep a pulse, so this is perfect. Thank you.”
She slurps from the iced coffee first. A chill travels up my spine; Minnesotans really are built different. We’re well into
fall, and I’m still struggling to acclimate to the local temperature. With windchill like this, I need to invest in a good
winter hat. I take a drink of my steaming Americano.
“To be totally honest, I didn’t realize we had a date today,” she says, chewing on her straw.
“About that.” I lean back in my chair. I hoped all the drinks would be a big enough distraction to not talk about it, but
looks like I should have gotten her that smoothie too. “I thought I had asked, but when I went back through our text messages,
I saw it never sent. Cell service is brutal in arenas.”
She smiles softly, and I feel terrible lying to her. “Well, I’m happy you called. A bit surprised, but happy to be here with
you.”
“You shouldn’t be surprised. Our last two dates were a lot of fun.”
Her face flushes and she giggles into her palm. “I’m surprised you’re not spending time with your dad.”
I cock my head back. “Where did you hear that?”
Olivia gulps down more of her coffee. “Word travels fast in the Five-Hole Donuts employee group chat,” she says with the straw
between her teeth.
Olivia pulls out her phone. After a bit of scrolling, she shows me a screenshot from Hammer’s Instagram of him with his arm wrapped around my dad’s shoulder. Hammer grins from ear to ear like he was just announced as the first star of the game. My dad, as always, basks in the attention.
“His visit is more of a layover.”
“What did he think of your new hair?” Olivia bites into her pillowy bottom lip.
“It didn’t come up.”
Her face falls. “Is everything okay?” she asks.
“Now it is,” I say. “But practice was tough. Both physically and mentally.”
Right as Olivia winds up to ask me a follow-up question, my phone rings. I flinch on instinct. The screen lights up on the
table with my agent’s name; it’s an incoming call from Lamar. Last time I ignored his call, he sent me five follow-up text
messages and a couple DMs. I put him through the ringer this offseason with my free agency antics. He about had a stroke when
I turned down that offer from the Tampa Storm.
“This is really rude of me, but my agent is calling.” I flash my phone screen as proof.
She shrugs. “I was late to our date. Answer it and we’re even?”
“Hey, Lamar,” I say, cupping my mouth to the phone. Olivia politely drops her eyes and gathers up her stack of paperwork to
shove into her bag. “I haven’t turned down any record-breaking contract offers, so to what do I owe the pleasure of this impromptu
call?”
He huffs loudly. “Don’t mention the Tampa thing, Brody.
I’m getting heated just thinking about it.
” I try to turn down the volume on my phone, but this guy’s got one volume level and it’s practically speakerphone decibels.
“I’ve got a brand deal for you. I’ll be honest, I didn’t know what that woman was talking about when she offered it.
Body-something? But my fourteen-year-old daughter knew the brand right away and she said you got to do it.
After looking into it more, I agree. The money is huge, and the exposure is even bigger. ”
“That’s great. Listen, I’m in the middle of something here,” I say, glancing up to check on Olivia. She’s in her own world,
scrolling on her phone. “If the deal seems legit, let’s do it. I trust your daughter Zuri’s advice on what’s cool. Email over
the contract.”
“Will do, son,” Lamar says before hanging up.
I silence my phone and tuck it in my pocket. “Sorry about that. Where were we?”
“You were about to tell me why practice was so tough today.”
“Was I?”
She nods. For a split second, I think about telling her the truth. But it passes as quickly as it comes. If I want to keep
this thing going between us, then the less she knows about my family, the better. If a haircut got my dad to make an emergency
trip to the Midwest, then I’d hate to see how he reacts to me airing out our family’s dirty laundry.
“The guys were giving me a hard time about my Catan skills.” I reach under the table and pull out the Catan game I borrowed
from the player’s lounge on my way out of the rink. “Help me out and teach me everything you know? I’d rather be an asset
than a liability.”
She sighs. Her eyes flicker back and forth between me and the red box sitting between us. “You might be underestimating how
horrible you are at Catan. This could take us all afternoon.”
“I don’t have anywhere else to be, do you?”
“Considering I didn’t leave today’s meeting with a new client, no. I don’t,” she says flatly.
Olivia pulls out a pen and notepad from her bag, and I settle into my seat.
As she begins a long-winded introduction on the basic premise of the game and the many variants available, I know that I’m safe from my dad.
Learning all the hexes alone will buy me enough time to dodge his visit.
My instincts about Olivia were right. She is smart, but perhaps more impressive, she is very strategic and an excellent coach.