Tristan’s obviously a good guy, but seeing him goof off with the kids reminds me of all the ways he’s been nice to me. Given howotherpeople have treated me, the bar is in hell. But Tristan isn’t simply nice. He’skind.There’s a huge difference. Nice people will help you if you ask. Tristan’s the kind of guy who will take the initiative to make things better.
The ‘shirt off his back’ guy always being referred to.
“Hi.”
I whip toward the woman who snuck up on me. Either she’s a ninja in training, or I let my senses shut down while I was staring doe-eyed at Tristan.
The newcomer beams at me. She’s wearing leggings and a Venom athletic quarter-zip that shows off her fit and curvy body. She’s even shorter than I am, though she reminds me of Kepler in that her confidence transforms her into a larger presence than her physical body would suggest. She’s got a clipboard under her arm, sunglasses on top of her head, and her long hair held back in a loose braid.
“Um… hi?” I still have my arms wrapped around myself, and my shoulders hunch of their own accord. Women this pretty and confident can usually smell weakness on me. So far, Marley isthe exception, possibly a fluke. But this one doesn’t pounce. She doesn’t sneer. She just… stands with me. Like I’m someone.
“You must be Tristan’s new assistant!”
“I’m… yeah. Minerva.”
She whistles. “That’s a badass name! Whoops, there are kids here. Sorry.” She grimaces, but her eyes still sparkle. I’m not sure why she’s apologizing to me.
“Violet Murphy. I’m the team trainer. And if you’ve got any kind of calendar management superpowers, I will buy you lunch weekly in exchange for your services. On the clock, of course. Maybe when you’re at the arena during practice?”
I shuffle my sneakers, still not sure about the tone of this conversation. “I’m better with algorithms than people.”
Violet barks a laugh. “That makes one of us! Everyone assumes that if you’ve studied in the medical field, you must besuperorganized, but I’m so scatterbrained when it comes to this stuff.”
Violet Murphy does not strike me as scatterbrained. I blink when I realize what she just did: she talked herself down to makemefeel more confident. I’ve done that before—hell, I did that foryears—but I’m not used to other people doing the same. My family enjoys making me feel small.
This could still be a trap, but at least she hasn’t led with a strategic passive-aggressive attack. I give her another once-over. “Murphy. As in, Bowen Murphy?” He’s one of the other Venom players. I only know this because I have to see the players’ names on their jerseys every day, so I got bored and eventually looked them all up to see what I could glean about them from sports blogs and social media.
“That’s my husband.” Violet’s face gets all dreamy and sappy. Ireallyhope that I wasn’t wearing the same expression when I was staring at Tristan just now. “He’s the best.” Her eyes sharpen again. “So tell me more about yourself.”
“Oh, um.” All I know about Violet is her connection to the team and her job. I decide that it would be reasonable to share details about my education, as opposed to the messier background of my shitty family and the reasons I squatted in the Venom parking garage for a fortnight. “Well, my background is in biomechanical engineering.”
Violet gawks at me. “Seriously?”
I automatically hunch into a defensive posture. Dad never took my degree seriously. He thought it was a pointless diversion from what I should have been doing. Namely, anythinghewanted from me.
But Violet doesn’t appear to be mocking my interests, because she adds, “You’re brilliant, and they’ve got you fetching protein bars for Dubois? Isn’t that just f— ugh, isn’t thattypical.You’ve got a ginormous brain, and you’re spending your time making spreadsheets.” Violet looks around like she wants to fight someone on my behalf.
I can’t help but smile at her indignation. “It’s… complicated.”
“It always is.” Violet lets out a weary sigh. “Work is work, I guess. But since you’re working with athletes now, have you ever thought about applying your genius to sports medicine?”
I perk up. This is new, to say the least. People are either dismissive of me or assume that biomechanical engineering is too boring to warrant further discussion. “Well, you know. I have thought about a sensor system for tracking post-impact cranial response. Real-time concussion protocol monitoring. That kind of thing?”
Violet’s eyes bulge. “Damn. Holy shit. You’re not just an assistant, you’re a revolution.”
I let out a self-conscious laugh. “Not really.”
“Yes, really. Listen, I know we’re supposed to be mixing and mingling and all that, but can I get your number? I’d love to talk more later. Maybe if you can help me get my act together,I can set aside some time to talk to you about your ideas? See if there’s anyone I can put you in touch with? My specialty is in head injuries, so our interests are like…” She holds up one hand to cross her middle and index fingers. “Like peas and carrots. If you ever want to talk shop, I’m in.”
“Okay.” I pull out my phone so that we can exchange numbers. It’s all very normal, but none of it’s normal forme.
“Great to meet you, Minerva!” Violet says as she turns to leave.
I lift my hand in a tiny wave. “Great to meet you, too.” And, yes, I actually mean it. Did I just… make another friend?
Go, me.
* * *
