Page 92 of The Keeper

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He hangs up and I stand there for a long minute, taking in what just happened. When I finally wander back into the bar, Marcus has ordered another round. I take a long drink and meet my friend’s inquisitive gaze. “Guess who that was?”

“Your attorney.”



“No. Thank god.”

“I give up.”

“That, my friend, was the owner of a major NHL team. Things might just be looking up after all.”

2: full conference experience


“What is this, grandma’s first FaceTime?” Mia asks as I fumble to turn the camera around on my phone.

“Shut up, you know I’m not a huge techie,” I say. Giggling. I get the screen pointed away from my face and at the spacious hotel room I’m in. “Voila! There we go.”

Mia rolls her eyes on my phone screen. “Give the girl a medal.”

“Look at this room! It’s so pretty! And the view is amazing,” I gush, walking around to show her the space.

“I’ll agree it does look swanky,” Mia says. “However, you are maybe the most boring person I know. You live here, Devon. All of Vegas is your home. So why would you get a hotel room in your own city? You live like fifteen minutes from that hotel.”

“I’m having the full conference experience. Just because I live here doesn’t mean I should miss out on the experience I would’ve had if the Sports Nutrition Expo was in, say, New York City.”

“Okie dokie,” Mia says, but she sounds dubious and obviously amused. “I’m just saying, you could’ve saved seven-hundred bucks and gotten a flight to Mexico this summer instead. You could’ve taken your good friend and neighbor with you, and we both could have had fun in a place that is not in our backyard.”

“It’s fun.” I push my lips out in a pout. “Don’t poop on my parade.”

Mia giggles uncontrollably at this. “Don’t poop on your parade?”

“You’re a mean person.”

“I’m not. But you have to admit that you are dipping a toe into boring old lady territory, if your idea of fun is getting a hotel room at a work conference in your own town.”

“I do fun things. There’s a spa here at the hotel. I could get a massage or a facial. Maybe a mani-pedi.”

Mia closes her eyes and snores in response.

“I get to work with pro athletes every day. That’s exciting enough.”

“Dude, I’d have a way more exciting life than you if I worked around all those hotties all day long.”

“Well, then you’d be fired, because there is a no-fraternization policy at The Crush. Not so fun not having a paycheck.”

“Theirs is clearly a miscommunication, then. Didn’t you tell me that there’s been like five marriages between players and staff recently?”

“Only four actual marriages…to date.”

“Still. Clearly there is some fraternizin’ goin’ on, if you know what I’m saying.” Her tone and facial expression leads me to believe she’d be elbowing me in the ribs if we were together in person.

“Maybe, but that’s not for me. You know I married a basketball player and the four years we spent together told me that I am not in the market for a pro athlete. They are just big boys, and I need a man.”

“That I can get behind,” Mia says. “How is old Terrence these days?”