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"Wife or girlfriend?" she asked.
I blinked. "What?"
She looked apologetic. "Sorry, I mean are you with one of the guys on the team? You don't look like any of them, so I was guessing you're not a sister. I guess you could be a stepsister."
I shook my head slightly. "I'm just a friend. Well, friend of girlfriends. I suppose you could call me a well-wisher."
She grinned. "We can never have too many of those." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Chantel."
I shook it. "Grace."
Her smile faded. "Oh. That Grace?"
My eyebrows shot up. "That depends on what you've heard."
"Oh." She said again. "I heard my brother screwed up and got you fired." She turned her head to the side slightly. "Unless I have the wrong Grace."
"No, that's me," I admitted. "We both made mistakes." Why was I still defending him? He deserved exactly none of it.
Chantel snorted. "That's not what he said. According to Bam, he fucked up royally and he fells shitty about it. Between you and me, I agree with him." She gave me a warm smile. "My brother is a long way from being perfect, but his heart is in the right place, most of the time."
"I'll have to take your word for that," I said as politely as I could.
"I get it," she said. "You're mad at him. I'm mad at him a lot of the time too. It comes with being brother and sister."
"I have two brothers," I said, "I can attest to that." We drove each other crazy, but we still loved each other.
"Older or younger?" Chantel asked.
"One older and one younger," I said. "Gauge and George. My parents have a thing about G names." I wrinkled my nose.
"Better than Chantel." She grimaced. "Are you guys close?"
"I suppose we are," I said. "We look after each other. Gauge is the typical big brother. He thinks I'm not old enough to live away from home. George is thirteen years younger, so he's just a kid." I'd always think of him as one anyway.
"That sounds like Bam and I," Chantel said. "He's always trying to keep me out of trouble, protect my virtue." She rolled her eyes. "Like it needs protecting by anyone but me. I can stand up for myself." She paused for a moment before she added, "You probably saw that video."
I grimaced. "I can't forget it." If not for that, things might be very different now.
"Yeah. He tried to keep me out of that bar, but I figured we'd be fine. Then when that guy started with all his sexist shit, and calling me a slut… Bam got pissed off, y'know. Of course he's the one everyone blames, because he's a bigass football player and I'm a girl. I bet no one even remembers the guy who started it."
"Probably not," I agreed. "That might not be a bad thing." When she gave me a questioning look, I said, "If he wanted another fifteen minutes of fame, he would have gotten it. He could be the next contestant on Love Island: Some Tropical Place by now. Then no one would forget him or how he got famous."
"That's true," Chantel said. "Meanwhile Bam gets painted as the big, bad wolf, all huffing and puffing and stuff."
I couldn't help but smile. She was as charming as her brother, but without the city-sized ego.
My smile faded quickly. "He seems pretty good at blowing things down. Or blowing them up." Like my career, for one thing.
"He certainly blew it for you," Chantel said. "He feels terrible. That's why he played so badly last night." She nodded toward the TV screen.
Tiny Bam, sweat across his face, ran across the screen. He caught the ball thrown by one of his teammates, but fumbled and almost dropped it. A member of the opposing team leaped forward and tackled him hard to the ground. The ball went flying and was scooped up by a huge guy in a yellow shirt with the number 13 on the back.
"Like that," Chantel said. "Almost cost us the game. Coach pulled him off after that. Tore him a new one, apparently." She grinned. It seemed her sympathy for her brother only went so far.
"I'd like to feel sorry for him," I said slowly. "Buuuuut…"
Chantel laughed. "I get it. You got fired because of him. I promise, he feels bad. As soon as he sees you're here, he'll come over, even if I have to drag him over."
