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She rolled her blue eyes. “Food and a piss-poor attitude. Doesn’t get much better than that. But it’s great that you’re here, Avery. I have to go over this stuff with you at some point anyway.” She sat back down at her desk and nodded to the chairs.
Chris slumped into one and ran a hand through his hair. “Langfield and Miller said they would do this without the fanfare, so remember this is for your social media shit,” he grumbled, then turned to me. “You should sit. Hannah is never short for words, so we’ll be here forever.”
“They don’t pay me enough to deal with the amount of grump I get around here.”
I could imagine. Between my dad, Beckett Langfield, and a team full of athletes, she had her work cut out for her. And unlike Liv, her boss, whose efficiency and mom-like control had everyone quickly jumping in line, Hannah was young and looked sweet. So despite the backbone I knew she had, she tended to get the brunt of most of the guys’ attitude.
She tapped a few keys, then turned her computer monitor our way so we could see the screen.
Project Puffinry
Tingles shot through me at the project title. I looked over at Chris as I finally lowered myself into the chair next to him, waiting for an explanation.
“Puff needs a habitat and a colony or whatever, so we’re working on it.” Chris waved a hand at the screen. “Langfield, Miller, the Revs, and I are setting up a fund that’ll allow the zoo to expand the penguin exhibit to house a colony of puffins.”
One million dollars? According to the data I was still processing, it looked as though the fund would be enough to double the size of the penguin palace.
Someone had obviously done their research, because they’d set aside two hundred thousand for additional birds. Though I never could have imagined the possibility, I’d dreamed of acquiring a colony for Puff and had done my own research on what it would cost to make it happen. Yes, I was a foolish optimist, but I was attached to the little guy. How could I not be? With that amount of money, I could easily get nine more puffins to join him in Boston. And the fund would more than pay for their care for the next few years.
Blinking back tears, I studied the frowning man beside me. Although I had joked about Chris being Puff’s best friend, I had it all wrong. He acted a lot more like his parent. His initiative and the need to make sure he was cared for went far beyond him having a soft spot for the bird. Christian Damiano got so much shit for being a hothead asshole, but he was really a good guy.
Blondie: What do you mean did I show Puff the picture?
Me: Well, it doesn’t matter if I like these damn birds. He’s the one that needs them. So show him the pictures and let him pick. Or better yet, take him to meet the actual birds
Blondie: I’m not flying the poor bird all over the country.
Me: Fine. Then at least show him the photos
Blondie: Okay. Never mind, the avian department at the zoo will pick the nine birds.
Blondie: You’re still coming to the party this weekend, right?
Me: I can’t believe you talked me into this
Blondie: You can’t be a stick-in-the-mud on Halloween. I won’t allow it. Don’t forget: you need to wear a red shirt. Emerson is green, Bosco is wearing a blue vest, and Dumpty is shirtless with a red tie.
Halloween
“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Mason Dumpty, our center fielder, threw his head back and cackled as I climbed out of the Uber behind him.
“Me?” Pushing past my teammates, I headed for the glass door of Wren’s lobby. “You’re the one who looks like women should be shoving money into your pants.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears.” Mason jogged to my side, lifting both bare arms and flexing his biceps. The man was an attention whore, so naturally, he was ecstatic to learn he’d been asked to wear nothing but a pair of pants and a red tie. “But Dragon dressing up for Halloween? And actually letting another person pick the costume? That shit is so out of your wheelhouse.”
I stopped and glared at my teammate, wondering if maybe I should have stayed home rather than deal with this shit. “She told me to wear a red T-shirt. Why wouldn’t I go along with it?” With a huff, I spunand addressed the doorman. “We’re here for Wren Cass’s party. She’s in 2203.”
With a friendly smile, he waved us to the elevator.
Instead of dropping the subject, my teammates continued their annoying commentary all the way through the lobby and on the ride up to Wren’s floor.
“Plus it’s Aaavery.” Kyle Bosco nudged me. “That girl has no idea that you’d do anything she commanded, and neither does her dad.”
I was not talking about Tom Wilson. The man had been nothing but a thorn in my side all season. It was hard to imagine how he could have had anything to do with creating Avery. They were like night and day. The season had ended, so Ishouldbe enjoying a break from the man, but the dick couldn’t leave me to my off-season workouts in peace. No, he was constantly riding my ass. And he’d forced me into taking press classes this fall.
So I had the pleasure of spending a couple of hours a week with fucking Hannah while she yap-yap-yapped in my ear.
“I wouldn’t be caught dead dressed like fucking Aladdin, no matter who asked, Streaks.” I scanned his blue vest and white pants. The guy looked like a tool, especially with the highlighted hair he claimed was natural.
