“Mmm, it wasn’t just that, they didn’t like that meme of Olli. Or my flashing incident.”
“Flashing?” Taylor, Brooker, and Fuller shouted. Heat flooded my face and I looked around for Olli, but he’d gone over to the bar.
I hope he brought back mozzarella sticks.
“Yeah, I knew about that,” Carter said, then turned to the others. “It was just some young, drunk thing though, sodropit.”
I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “You’re my favorite after Olli.”
“What?” Brooker shouted. “Did you guys see that? My PA says I’m not even her second favorite!”
“Then be a good employer or whatever and maybe the rankings will change.”
“I’m going to tell Kean to order water, too,” Carter said, shaking off my hand. “For thewholetable.”
“Carter is a party pooper,” Brooker told the live stream.
“No, he’s not. He’s keeping the team together. Unlike me,” Christenson said, sinking down to rest his head on the table.
“Dude, you can’t blame yourself. There’s a lot going on,” Taylor said.
“But it’s my job to keep the team running smoothly. I’m sure I could’ve made this transition go over better. But now Kodi can’t follow her dreams.”
The table went quiet.
When I said the thing about my dream job, I hadn’t thought about it from their perspective. I mean, yes, this was my dream job. But it wasn’t my dream the way it was their dream to play soccer. I didn’t grow up with this job in mind, I fumbled and went through dozens of other possibilities before I found it. I was crushed it didn’t work out, but not devastated like they would be if they couldn’t play anymore.
Well … maybe a little devastated. After all, now that Olli and I are together, it would’ve been so perfect.
“Oh shit, Christenson, folks are asking about the selling rumors,” Brooker said, covering the camera. “What should I tell them?”
Christenson sat up, took a big breath in, then chugged the rest of his beer.
“Fuck it. Tell them they’re trying to sell as fast as possible and doing whatever it takes to find a buyer because their kids,allof them together, stole a fucking yacht or some shit. And now they’re in legal trouble, rich folks suing rich folks.”
“Oh shit,” the whole table whispered.
“Is that seriously why they’re selling?” I gaped. Despite being a fan of the Dastards before joining as an employee, I’d never paid attention to who the owners were. All they did was pay the upfront fees for the games to happen, not really worth my attention.
“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone outside the team,” Christenson said, slumping back down.
“Dude, I’m on a livestream,” Brooker said, trying not to laugh. But when he pointed out that the stream was still going, I broke out in a fit of giggles. And when I broke, Brooker did, too.
“Wait, are you serious?” Christenson asked, snapping up to grab the phone from Brooker. The other man passed the phone over and Christenson held it close to his face, scrolling through the comments.
“Oh, this is bad,” he muttered, then held the phone out so he was properly in frame and gave the camera an awkward smile. “Could you guys maybe forget that you heard any of that? Please?”
“Oh my god,” I said through giggles and reached out to take the phone. After some shuffling around with the napkin holder to get a good angle, I looped an arm around Brooker to bring him into frame. “So the Dastards owners are transitioning to … another career path. Why don’t y’all tell us whatyouwanna see in the new owners and our players will say what they hope for, too.”
“What?” Brooker asked, eyes going wide.
“We’re diverting the conversation,” I whispered back. “That way any gossip that comes from this stream will be more about what y’all want and not about leaking the information.”
“Oh,” Brooker said, elongating the word as he leaned back. “I guess I’ve never thought of it before. I mean, when you’re picking a team to play for, your choices are kinda limited to who’s got openings for your position.”
The other guys murmured in agreement.
Sensing a moment, I grabbed the phone and switched to the back camera to film the team. The shot was a little crooked, but I’m sure whoever was watching cared more about seeing their favorite players than the quality of the stream.
