Ophelia: Be my moral support. I wouldn’t have half this info if it weren’t for you.
She wants me to go to the Boston Buzzards’ headquarters and meet with not only Bob Miller and Coach Janssen, but Vinny Camacho and the Commissioner of the USSL, Tanner Suarez, as well.
Being on the inside would be a massive advantage for the story I’m working on. Ophelia told me I could, of course, but I still need the green light from Xavier.
Since he’s in the dark about the whole thing, that approval will have to wait.
But if he sees me there, helping, he’ll be more inclined to return the favor, right?
The only thing holding me back from jumping at this opportunity is the slim chance I’ll run into Callaghan. Who knows if he’ll be there, but the mere thought of it is making the butterflies in my stomach dance.
I still can’t believe he tracked me down at work.
I can only imagine what I looked like to him. I shudder. I’m not the girl he used to know, that’s for sure.
I didn’t think he could get better looking than he was in college, but he’s aged like a fine wine. He’s in peak form, not that I know that from spending hours watching footage of him online. I definitely wouldn’t have done that.
And if I did, it would only be for research.
Researching his thigh muscles maybe.
Goalies do a lot of plyometric training. Explosive jumps require strong quads and glutes.
I glance down at my own legs, thick and curvy. It’s been a long time since I worked out. Hard to think that something that was such a part of my daily life and my identity could be gone so quickly.
I’m fairly confident that most of my ClikClak followers would have a hard time believing I was once a D1 athlete. I don’t have to prove it to them. I don’t have to prove anything to anyone, with the exception of the fact that Xavier Henry is a good guy.
But as I stand in front of my closet, I suddenly feel more self-conscious about my body than I have in years. I’ll be with Ophelia, who’s a good seven inches shorter than me. I’m going to look like a giant—or an ogre—next to her.
I don’t have a lot of appropriate wardrobe options. I wear my server clothes and sweatpants. There’s not a huge need for much else. I have some of the suits that Carlos has thrifted for me, but I can’t see myself walking into the Boston Buzzards’ administrative offices dressed like that.
It’s one thing for someone to laugh at my ClikClaks. It’s another thing entirely for them to laugh in my face. Plus, this is serious business, and I don’t want my retro suits to detract from that.
Finally, I settle on a pair of slim-fit black pants. I’d bought them for work, but they’re not comfortable enough to move around in. I pair them with the black pumps I wear in the ClikClaks.
Okay, the bottom doesn’t look bad. Now for the top, because I’m pretty sure wearing only my bra is not going to get us the attention we’re looking for.
Though one benefit of gaining weight is that my girls are a lot more impressive than they were at the height of my soccer days. If all else fails, I’ll use them as our backup plan.
I find a white shirt and a blazer that doesn’t quite button all the way. It’ll be fine for our purposes. I look professional enough. Hell, no one’s going to be looking at me anyway. I’m just the moral support.
And to help guide Ophelia back on track if she goes off the rails. There’s a good chance of that happening.
Ophelia picks me up at two. The meeting is set for three. Apparently, Xavier’s been staying with the strength and conditioning coach, and he’s been letting Xavier work out at the facility each day after the team finishes their workouts. We haven’t received a full confirmation from the Buzzards that they’ll still consider Xavier, but that’s a really good sign.
Now, if I just manage to avoid Callaghan Entay while I’m there, I’ll call this day a success.
