“Okay,” he said after a deep breath. “But just so you know, I think she’s rather extroverted. She might very well talk your ear off.”
“That’s fine.”
“Seriously? You’re fine with that? How’re you gonna handle things if she gets offended that you only speak in grunts or five word sentences?”
“She won’t.”
“Uh-huh.” Hansen leaned back in his chair, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Have you seen this girl? Know her story?” he finally asked.
“Her story?” I repeated. I figured Kodi didn’t tell Hansen that we knew each other since it might hurt her chances of getting the job. But his question had me second-guessing that.
“About her viral moment at a game a few years ago?”
“No,” I said honestly, but made a mental note to follow up with Kodi about it later. Viral moments should be good given her social media-driven resume, but Hansen said it like it was a bad thing.
“And —” Before Hansen could ask whatever follow-up question he had, a knock at the door stopped him. Hansen gave me another narrow-eyed look before sighing. Then he shouted towards the door, “Come on in.”
As the door cracked open, my whole body buzzed. I was suddenly nervous, more nervous than I was before qualifier games.
I was going to see Kodi again. My only real childhood friend.
I could even give her those letters that were returned. They’ve just been sitting in the back of my closet in a box with all my other childhood things that I couldn’t bear to part with.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Hansen,” Kodi said as she stepped in and my heart fucking stopped.
In the days since I saw Kodi’s resume till now, I hadn’t given much thought as to what Kodi would look like as an adult. My desire to see her was the same innocent desire I had as a kid. It hadn’t evolved to anything more than just wanting to be in her company again, regain that friendship I lost all those years ago.
But seeing her, seeingadultKodi, made that innocent desire mature. And mature fast.
Her hair had gotten longer or she let it grow out or whatever. Soft, dirty blond waves tied up in a loose ponytail that fell to her back. The color was lighter than it used to be, like she spent a lot of time out in the sun; same thing with her skin, white but tanned. She wore a suit, I think. They weren’t the stick-straight type of pants, but they were tight, with a seam down the center of her thighs, in a sky blue and a matching jacket. She looked high fashioned, like some of the younger reporters I’ve met. She looked stunning. More than stunning.
And here I was in sweats and an old team T-shirt. Some of the guys thought it was a faux pas to wear our team’s merch. But along with all the other shit I was behind on, Florida weather clothes were at the top of the list.
A literal list, which I made for Kodi to get done in her first month.
“And it’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Kean,” Kodi said, voice chipper as she reached a hand out for me to shake. Instinctively, I reached for her hand, slowly sliding my palm across hers, heartbeat thundering.
I was holding Kodi Davey’s hand and I was freaking out. Her hand was so soft. And smaller than I remembered, at least in comparison to my hand. She shook with her right hand, so the fact that I didn’t see a ring didn’t mean much. But she had a nice grip, firm and confident, slender fingers wrapping around the back of my hand. And —
Her words finally registered. She’d said ‘nice to meet you.’ Why the hell would she say that? Did she think she had to pretend we didn’t know each other in front of Hansen?
“I’m super excited to get to work with you,” she continued, letting go of my hand. “Admittedly, I haven’t followed the Dastards since …”
She looked at Hansen, a light glow of red creeping over her cheeks.
“As far as I know, none of the players are aware of that. And as far as I’m concerned, it can stay that way.”
“What?” I asked Hansen as Kodi let out a sigh of relief.
“Nothing to worry about, Kean.” He patted my shoulder. “But anyway, I’ll let y’all chat while I go get some paperwork from HR printed up.”
Hansen nodded to both of us before leaving his office, the door open.
“Kodi,” I stated, looking down at her with my brow furrowed. I couldn’t figure out how to say what I wanted. Or more like the order of what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her I’m excited she’s back in my life, that she was hired on her own merit and didn’t need to hide the fact that we knew each other, and ask if she was single. But before I could settle on anything, she spoke up again.
“I really am crazy excited to work with you, Mr. Kean. I’ve been a fan of the Dastards for, like, ever. And while I’m definitely gunning more for the social media position, I promise everything you need will be taken care of first. And Mr. Hansen told me you’re hesitant about the team’s push for —”
