The day is gray and overcast, the wind blustering as we approach the Sports Stream offices, which are in a towering metal and glass high rise. According to the sign out front, there are several news and media stations housed in the building, but there’s no time to linger and when Devin opens the door for me, I breeze right through, making a beeline for the marble security desk in the center of the lobby.
The guard greets us stoically and we sign in as he assigns us visitor badges.
“Be sure to wear your badge at all times.” He gives me a slow once-over. “They’ll let you access the elevators, and if you’re caught without it, you’ll be escorted from the premises.”
Heat floods my cheeks.
Yes, I look like a kid playing dress up, but I don’t need him to point out that I don’t belong. The black pantsuit—which I borrowed from Soraya—isn’t me at all. It’s ultra-conservative and even Maddie’s kitten heels—which she insisted I wear because apparently Docs aren’t appropriate footwear for a corporate setting—can’t save it.
I clip the badge to my jacket without comment.
The guard barely glances at Devin, whose broad shoulders and trim waist fill his navy suit like it was custom made, though I know he bought it off the rack.
“Which floor for Sports Stream?” Devin asks, clipping the badge to the lapel of his jacket.
“Thirty-four.”
We make our way to the express elevator, and when the doors close, I glimpse my reflection in the gilded surface. I look ridiculous. Wrong. Not at all like myself. But there’s no time to dwell on it because the elevator rockets skyward.
My stomach drops and I press my lips flat.
Devin takes my hand, squeezing it gently as we soar upward, the floors ticking by on the overhead screen in rapid succession.
“Can you imagine working here?” he asks, with barely contained enthusiasm.
“No, I really can’t.” His brow furrows and I hastily add, “I’ll bet it’s got a great view of the river.”
“Which one?”
I shrug. “Maybe all of them, depending on the direction.”
The city has three major rivers and they all come together at Point State Park, a fact I only know because my family visited the city for a gymnastics competition when Gabby and I were kids.
The elevator slows as we approach thirty-four and Devin releases my hand just as the overhead bell chimes.
“Thanks. And good luck today.”
He doesn’t need it. He’s amazing and the selection committee is bound to see it.
“You, too.”
The doors slide open to reveal a sleek black reception desk with the wordsSports Streamin bold red script on the wall above. We step into the lobby to find Mac, Kali, and Preston gathered in a tight circle.
Our professor turns to us with a welcoming smile. “Miss Cruz. Mr. Parker. Did you find the place okay?”
Devin grins, turning on the charm as easily as one might turn on the tv. “Couldn’t miss it. This is some building.”
“Now that we’re all here,” Preston says, directing a condescending smile our way. “Perhaps we could start the tour?”
Qué cabrón.
The urge to check the time strikes hard and fast and it takes all my self-control to resist. We aren’t late. I know we aren’t late and I will not let that pendejo get in my head before the interviews have even started.
Kali offers me a weak smile and we follow along like ducklings as Mac leads us from reception and down a long hall that leads to one massive cubicle farm. It’s a sea of oatmeal-colored cubes from one end of the floor to the other, each containing a desk, monitor, and a harried looking employee.
Never one to hold back, Devin quips, “That’s a lot of cubes.”
Mac chuckles. “Not what you were expecting, Mr. Parker?”
