Did I want to do this? No, I’ve had enough experience in the sports world to know that athletes drew a fine line when it came to their personal lives. But what was the alternative? Prove Joe right? Even I had to admit there was some truth to his words. But I would never, ever in a million years tell him that. I would prove him wrong. Somehow. Someway. I would make it my mission to make him eat his words.
I had my earbuds in,my laptop open in front of me, and a dozen tabs pulled up. I was scrolling through the articles, my cursor hovering over one particular image.
I told myself this was just research. That’s why I was studying his body language, analyzing his facial expressions, and cataloging every little detail to my memory.
Nate was standing in a hospital hallway with his sister, Callie. They were playing catch with a little boy wearing a cochlear implant. It was a known fact that his sister was hearing impaired. Nate was known to be very generous with his time and money to the National Association of the Deaf.
The more I researched for this article, the more each image chipped away at the illusion I had.
I rubbed my temples because the last thing I needed was to romanticize him.
Joe might have assumed that everyone only cared about how many passes he could complete, but he was wrong. This was the kind of stuff that mattered, and people remembered. The fans connected better when players were friendly and relatable. Nobody wanted to root for an arrogant jock.
“Well, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes?”
I looked up to see my friend Ember plopping into the chair across from me. She slid her bag off her shoulder and set it on the floor.
“Hey.” I pulled my earbuds out. “This is a surprise.”
She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and set her coffee down. “I have an appointment in Copley Square and wanted to grab a coffee before I hopped on the train.”
“It’s a nice day out. Why don’t you take the ferry?”
“It takes too long, and there are too many tourists this time of year.”
She had a point. I didn’t go into downtown Boston unless I absolutely had to. Summer was peak travel season, so the crowds got a little out of control. Thankfully, everything I needed was here in Harbor Bay.
“Who is your meeting with? Anyone important?”
Ember worked for a well-known PR firm in Boston. She spent her days handling difficult clients and cleaning up messes from people with way too much money.
“Unfortunately, no. Just some boring legal stuff.” She leaned forward to peek at my screen. “What are you working on?”
I tried my best to angle it away from her, but she still saw the photos.
“Research,” I said, sliding my laptop a little further down the table.
“Trying to hide what’s on your screen, huh? That means it’s something juicy.”
“It’s not what you think.” My face grew warm as I looked away from her. “Daphene wants me to write an article on Nate Sandler that is less about the game and more about his personal life.”
Her eyes lit up in surprise. “Every woman’s dream job.”
I curled my fingers tightly around my coffee cup. “I don’t even want to know what you’re implying. This is an assignment. Nothing more.”
“Of course it is.” She smiled like a proud mom. “Is that why your cheeks are so red?”
“I’m hot.”
She smirked. “So is he.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” I said, brushing off her comment because there was no point in engaging with her.
“Whatever you say.” She stirred her iced coffee with a straw. “Besides, doesn’t research typically mean talking to people?”
I shrugged it off, even though she had a point. “I need to read up on things first.”
She leaned back in her chair, bringing her drink with her. “Looks more like drooling than reading to me.”
