Chapter 27
Jabari
I follow the hostess to meet the potential Warriors donor, nerves pinging through me faster than watching a pickleball tournament.
My agent, Rick, published my statement to all interested parties earlier in the day, and I also posted it to my socials.
Now it’s a waiting game to see everyone’s reactions, though I intentionally left the statement open-ended regarding my future with the Warriors, and I only said that my vision had been affected, without going into all the details.
Though that’s not what has me on edge.
For some reason, this meeting feels like my future hinges on the outcome.
Mentally, I know it’s not true, but physically, my body believes otherwise.
It’s responding like it would before an important game.
I need a clear head now, but as soon as this appointment is over, I’ll be focusing on what I really want—Val Elliott and our date after tomorrow’s game.
I smooth my tie down as the hostess stops before a table. Someone stands, and I jut out my hand in hopes they’ll do the rest of the work.
“Jabari Hall,” I say smoothly.
We shake hands. “Tim Hunter with LN Industries.”
“Thank you for meeting with me today, Tim.” I slide into my chair.
You can do this. Think of the interaction like a game-day interview, or any interview for that matter. Tell him what he wants to know, but in a way that makes everything more personable. No matter how private I actually am.
“No, no. The pleasure is all mine. I’ve been a huge fan of the Warriors for years. I have to admit, you’re my favorite player.” Tim clears his throat. “Sorry to hear about the eyesight.”
“Thanks.” My neck heats. “The Warriors have been supportive through this whole ordeal.” I point to the yellow-tinted glasses the eye doctor provided me.
The Warriors could’ve forced me to retire mid-season.
They could’ve prevented me from going to the games.
But considering the head staff is all about promoting camaraderie throughout the organization, giving me another opportunity within the organization aligns with their mission. I’m thankful they care.
“That’s great to hear. I’m not interested in donating to an organization that doesn’t know how to take care of their players.”
“Then you’ve found the right team. They made sure to get the best of the best to help me with my medical issues. And they don’t stop until they get a good answer.”
“Have they?”
Oops. Why did I open a door I have no desire to walk through? “Actually they didn’t, but that’s more my issue than theirs.” I resist the urge to clear my throat. This isn’t the time to get choked up.
“Are you moving to the business side permanently?” Tim asks.
“I’m considering all of my options.”
“I’d do the same. You can’t be too cautious in business.”
“True.” Time to get the conversation off of me and back to the point. “So, Tim, what are your concerns regarding becoming a sponsor?”
Tim begins speaking and asking questions.
I make sure to keep the focus off myself and present to Tim what his donation would do for the organization.
Morgan’s audio file was packed full of information, and every single tidbit remains fresh in my mind.
Of course relistening to some portions this morning on the bus ride in, as I got dressed for the meeting, and in the car ride over helped.
We talk throughout our meal. Afterward, Tim informs me of another meeting he’s scheduled for. Fortunately, I’m satisfied I did everything Morgan asked of me. Tim’s pledged a hefty sum to the organization.
“The Warriors thank you for your contribution.” I rise to my feet.
“My pleasure, truly. Before I go, is there a chance you could sign this rookie card for me?”
Can I? I haven’t practiced my signature due to vision concerns, but shouldn’t that be muscle memory?
I reach for the card, then position it on the table like I normally would.
Without thinking, I squiggle my signature letting my hand move as usual.
When I squint to bring my signature into focus, it appears to be my signature.
Hopefully, it’s the real deal. I straighten and hand the signed card over.
“You’ll be at the game tomorrow, right?” I ask as we head out.
“I wouldn’t miss it. Love when you guys come to New York.”
“Are you in one of our suites?”
“Oh no,” Tim says. “I like to be right at the action.”
“Tell me where you’re seated, and I’ll make sure you have a good night.”
Tim slaps me on the back. My jaw sets, startled by the movement.
“I appreciate you, Crank. I can call you that, right?”
“Sure can.” Everyone does most of the time anyway.
We make our good-byes, and as soon as I’m seated in the sedan, I breathe out a sigh of relief.
That went well, and now to concentrate on my upcoming date.
When Val first agreed to go out with me, I texted Raimo and Javier for suggestions on romantic restaurants in NYC.
After they read reviews, comments, and even viewed some social media links on my behalf, I made a reservation at Le Pavillon.
Though my chances of getting into the place seemed low, my name made a way.
Le Pavillon is known for bringing nature into their restaurant.
Javier said all the visitors commented on their breathtaking display of plants and greenery.
Raimo cautioned me because it didn’t hit high on the romantic list scale.
But what could be more romantic than bringing my plant-loving girlfriend—wait, can I call her that yet?
—to a culinary scene that knows the way to her heart. I can’t wait for Val’s response.
Since our date isn’t until tomorrow, I have to bide my time.
Val already texted to let me know she’s on the train, with a promise to text when she and her sister arrive at their hotel.
Maybe I can convince her to come to my hotel for a visit.
Then again, Coach doesn’t like the team to have visitors before the game.
Do the rules even apply since you’re not playing tomorrow?
“Sir, we’re here.”
I thank the driver before getting out.
“Yo, Crank!” a voice shouts. One that sounds suspiciously like Javier.
I stop, and before I know it, a few guys swarm me.
“Where were you?” Raimo asks.
“Yeah, man, we’ve been looking everywhere,” Javier adds.
“I told them you wanted peace and quiet,” Tae states in his quiet manner.
I hold my hands up. “I had a meeting with a potential donor.”
“Is that what you’re doing now? You don’t hang out with us anymore?” Javier sniffs like he’s affronted. Yet I can hear the underlying humor in his tone.
“You know you’re too lowbrow for me,” I joke.
Raimo lets out a guffaw. “Hey, hockey is the everyday man’s game.”
“And woman,” Javier adds.
“Everyday people. Better?” Raimo asks.
I laugh at their antics and slide my hands into my pockets. I haven’t been trying to avoid them. More like been too consumed with Val to remember my friends. My bad.
“You free the rest of the day?” Javier asks.
“Yeah. Where are you guys going?”
“Sightseeing,” Tae says. “Apparently PR wants us to look like we’re having the time of our lives so they can create some social media videos.”
“And you want me to hang out?” The one who’s hard of seeing? I don’t want to be a hindrance, but I do miss hanging with them.
“Of course we do.” Javier hooks an arm over my shoulder. “We want to hear all about how you and Val are doing.”
“Oh, look at that grin,” Raimo says.
I try to make my face neutral, but my lips twitch at the corner, not wanting to fight the feelings Val brings out in me.
“You definitely gotta tell us the story behind that smile,” Javier says.
“Give me a moment.” I look down at myself. “I don’t want to go all around the city in a suit.”
Tae snorts. “So pretentious.”
“Whatever, pretty boy. I’ll be right back.”
“You need help?” Javier asks.
I want to say no, but I also don’t know the hotel that well. “Not with changing, but if you want to walk with me and make sure I don’t make a fool of myself . . .”
“Let’s go.” Javier clasps a hand on my shoulder.
Thank goodness for teammates. I make it to my room without running into anything or anyone. After changing into some Warriors athletic gear, I close the door.
“Oh good, you match everyone else,” Javier says.
I chuckle. “You did say PR wanted video footage. Might as well wear the gear.”
“My thoughts too.”
We head toward the elevators.
“So . . . you and Val?”
I snort. “You want the story before everyone else?”
“I guess it would be fair to wait, but I really wanna know.”
The elevator dings, and we get in. After noting we’re the only ones, I speak. “We’re going out tomorrow.”
“Is she here yet?”
“She’s on her way up with her sister right now.”
Javier bumps into my shoulder. “Man, I’m happy for you. Val’s great.”
“She is.” I rub the back of my neck. “Went to her church last week.”
“Yeah? What did you think?”
“I’m interested in learning more but not sure that place is for me.” I shrug, not sure what else to say.
“Did you truly not like it, or were you distracted knowing she was there?”
I frown, considering the question. “A little bit of both, honestly. I think it was the sermon. It didn’t wow me.” I stop. “Is it supposed to wow you?”
“Or at least make you think.”
“Yeah, the worship music made me think, but not the sermon.”
“Come to my church. Maybe it’s more your speed.”
“You think?” Was there a difference in churches?
“Definitely. The best thing you can do for your faith journey is find the place where you click. There’s probably always going to be something that doesn’t wow you, but overall, you should feel like your spirit is getting fed.
If it is, if you’re learning from a biblically accurate church, then that’s half the battle. ”
“What’s the other half?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Walking it out.”