Okay, fine—not a normal fan, obviously. Most fans don’t get to sit in the owner’s suite.
As much as I want to force Maverick to carpool with me to the stadium, I don’t. I’m just starting to make a bit of progress, and I don’t want to hinder it by coming on toostrongly too quickly. He’s like a scared little bunny, still to all movement, eyes watching warily, careful not to let anyone get too close, or he’ll take off running.
I won’t let him run.
I mean, I can’t. If I do, I lose my job, so that’s certainly a motivating factor.
I arrive in the suite about a half hour before game time, and I’m highly impressed with everything I see here. A buffet is spread out on two sides of the suite, and in the middle are high-top tables we can stand by to watch the game on televisions inside the suite as we eat, or we could opt for the stadium seating stacked below the suite to get the full perspective of the field.
It’s not my first time in a suite at an NFL game. I have four brothers who play, and my dad has a suite at Soldier Field for the Bears’ home games. But itismy first time in a team owner’s suite, and it’s already packed with people—none of whom I know, so I feel awkward as I walk around.
A woman with dark blonde hair approaches me, and she grins. “First timer?” When I glance over at her, she says, “Hi. I’m Ellie. I can always tell a first timer to the suite—mostly because I’m here every game.” She giggles as she sticks out a hand to shake mine.
“Everleigh,” I say. “The team hired me to—”
“Babysit Mav? I know. Who’s doing his PR, by the way?”
I laugh. Whoisthis woman? She must be someone important if she knows I’mbabysittingMaverick.
“Terry Dornan out of Dallas. I haven’t spoken with him yet, but it’s on my list for the week,” I say.
“Yes,” she says, nodding. “Do you think he’d be amenable to hiring a local publicist? I work with several players on this team. Oh! I’m just realizing you must think I’m a weirdo since you probably have no clue who I am. My husband is Luke Dalton. He used to play for the Aces, and now he does somework with the wide receivers. We work together on agency and publicity. Jack’s my brother-in-law.”
“And I’m her sister-in-law,” a striking woman with chin-length dark hair says, holding out a hand to introduce herself. “Kate Dalton. Jack’s wife and former babysitter.”
Both Ellie and Kate giggle at their inside joke, but I recall Jack saying he hated the idea of a babysitter when he first arrived in Vegas. And now he’s married to his.
Hm.
Could that happen for Maverick and me?
I glance down at him on the field. He’s standing by himself on the sidelines. My God, he really hates everybody. He’s staring at the field where his teammates are practicing, and it’s hard to read his expression from here, but even if I could, I wouldn’t know what it said. He’s wearing sunglasses, so I can’t tell who he’s focusing on or where his eyes are looking, but he’s definitely studying. At the same time, he’s cold. Expressionless. Detached. Arms crossed as if he won’t let anyone in.
And it’s my job to find something he cares about enough outside of football to attempt to turn his image around.
It’s a huge hill to climb, and to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure I have it in me.
So…no. The answer to whether that could happen for Maverick and me, whether he could fall in love with me as I, well,babysithim…that’s a clear, hardno.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” I say.
“You’re Dex’s sister, right?” Ellie asks, and I nod. “So you have two reasons to be here. Welcome to the Aces fam. It’s a fabulous place to be.”
She seems genuinely sweet, as if she cares about the team and the players in her own right, not just because her husband is a former player, brother to the team owner, and quasi-coach. Thewelcome to the famcomment feels sincere, like thistruly is one big family. And I think maybe in particular due to the fact that I’m working with the sourest of the bunch, it would bode well for me to have allies here. Ellie and Kate seem like good nominees for that position, and maybe we can even become friends since I’ll be here for the next year at a minimum, even though I’m already itching to get back home to Chicago.
“Let me introduce you to everyone,” Ellie says, and she takes me around and does exactly that, introducing me to some familiar faces or names that could potentially become friends and allies in this town. I meet Grayson Nash, former defensive back, and his wife, Ava. I meet Desi Nash, whose husband, Asher, is a tight end for the Aces. I meet Jolene Nash, whose husband is the head coach, Lincoln. I meet the wives of players Tristan Higgins, Jaxon Bryant, and Travis Woods: Tessa, Mandy, and Victoria, respectively.
The list goes on, but the suite is filled with wives, some kids, and family members of the Vegas Aces—including my new sister-in-law, Ainsley, as she makes a semi-late entrance just before kickoff.
I sit with her in the stadium seats to watch kickoff since she’s someone I know. It’s more comfortable than sitting with strangers I’ve just met, though my instinct tells me that I won’t make friends and allies by staying in my comfort zone.
When the Aces score a field goal on their first run of the game, some players run off the field while others run onto it. I keep an eye on Maverick, but when I know it’s a pause in the action to accommodate television commercials, I excuse myself from Ainsley and head back up into the suite.
I find Ellie, and I march right up to her. “Tell me more about your PR firm,” I begin.
She chuckles. “You know, I never wanted to work with football players. My brother played, and until I met Luke, I didn’t know much about the game at all other than the factthat grass stains are impossible to get out of those short white pants.”
I laugh.
