My ReachMe fans. I miss them, and could really use some of their compliments right now. Their words and praise and… attention?
The gentle buzz against my leg has me pulling my phone out of my pocket before I truly think about what I’m doing. It’s not a phone call—thank fuck—it’s an email. My heart stops as I see that it’s from the new agent. There’s an attachment and the subject line reads ‘New Client Contract.’
I feel dizzy. Reaching out a hand for anything to keep me upright, I find I’m in the open. Outside. Not near anything. The ground is going to come quickly.
Closing my eyes, the dizziness only intensifies when I don’t have spatial recognition to keep my equilibrium in check. My feet are rooted to the ground, so I can’t take a step in any direction to correct my balance. The world sways as if I’m on a carnival ride.
Just as I think I’m going to topple, hands grip me. Steadying me. I take a breath but still can’t manage to open my eyes.
“Feeling okay?”
It’s Ren. I recognize his quiet, smooth, gently accented voice. It’s a blanket of calm allowing me to take a breath.
“I just got an email with the new contract,” I say. Do I speak out loud?
“You want to look it over now?”
“If you’re busy?—”
His hands grip me a little tighter. “I’m not busy.”
“It’s kind of late,” I waver.
“We can look at them in the morning if you prefer.”
We have conditioning tomorrow. No game. Still, I shake my head. I won’t sleep at all tonight if I don’t know what these contracts mean. Have I ever truly known what they meant?
“I’ll follow you,” Ren offers.
I nod, but don’t move and he doesn’t let me go.
“How about if I drive?” Ren suggests after a minute.
Sighing, my shoulders drop a little and I nod. “Thanks.”
Even driving feels too heavy right now. I could do it if I needed to, but it’s probably safer if I don’t. When I still don’t make an effort to move, Ren guides me along across the parking lot. Before I know it, we’re behind his black Lexus and he’s loading our bags into the back before walking me to the passenger’s side.
He opens my door and I just stare. Has anyone ever opened a car door for me?
I glance at him shyly as I climb in. No overthinking. He’s being nice. He’s a good guy. A gentleman. That’s all this is. There’s literally nothing to see here.
I’m a train wreck, anyway. Not a prize. The only people who have anything nice to say are those from afar. Those who watch me naked and with a mask on.
I miss their positivity. The light they offered me in the storm of my life.
The ride is quiet, and I appreciate that Ren doesn’t try to fill the silence. Awkward conversation is the worst. Not that I’ve ever truly had that experience with my teammates.
We get to my house and I let us in. Ren follows me as I walk through the dark halls until we get to the living room.
“Do you want them electronically, or I can print them?” I ask.
He reaches into his bag for a pen and highlighter. “Print, please. Then they’ll be in a format I can mark up.”
I nod and excuse myself to the spare room that also has an office area. Not a space I use much, but it’s there. As if to give the impression I’m a responsible adult and can manage my affairs as one should.
Without reading the email, I connect to the printer wirelessly and send the document. While it’s printing, I dig through the folders in my desk until I find the copy of my original contract. I see another document that says addendum and one behind it that says extension. Since I’m not sure what else might be important, I take the whole folder.
With the folder in hand and the warm, freshly printed copies from the printer, I go back to find Ren. He’s right where I left him, unsurprisingly. I hand him everything.
