She rings me up. I pay, leave a generous tip, and make my way back outside. I’d love to work from a patio today. Or at least this morning. I think we’re supposed to get some rain in the afternoon.
But I promised myself I wouldn’t do that. In the offseason, if we aren’t making content that requires us to be on-site, the team allows us to work from home. Or a café, or wherever you feel comfortable working.
Yet no matter how much I would like to do that, I feel like I should be in the office. Being present and reminding people I’m still here, working.
And even if there are only a handful of people there, it is social interaction.
I get in my car and head to the office, and before long, I’m walking inside the Real Miami FC Headquarters, ready to start my day. I know it will be even slower than normal today. Combine the offseason with it being the week beforeThanksgiving—well, there won’t be many people here except for tomorrow, when we have our Thanksgiving feast event.
My brain drifts to photography for a moment. If I were a photographer for a hockey team, I’d be off today, but tomorrow I’d be hitting the rink to take pictures of practice. Or work with the social media team or marketing to get whatever pictures they need for content. I’d be bundled up, breathing in the cold air, exhilarated at capturing the speed of the players and the puck.
I bite my lip. I haven’t thought about this for a long time, because I knew working in the NHL wasn’t an option. My dad is a head coach in the league. What other team would employ me?
And the Manatees wouldn’t simply because of the optics.
I don’t know why this longing has come up, but I put it aside. I have a great job working in sports, a job a lot of other people would take in a second. I need to focus on that instead of things that can never happen.
I reach my desk and set my things down. I boot up my computer, and then check my phone.
Happiness fills me when I see I have a text from Aiden.
Morning, beautiful.
I feel warmth spread through my body. There is something so wonderful about knowing Aiden thinks I’m beautiful.
I reply:
Morning yourself, gorgeous. I’m surprised you’re up so early on a day off.
Brooks is typing …
I put my phone aside and bring up my email, and as I predicted, it’s rather sparse. I sigh. Between now and Christmas, I have a feeling work is going to be slooooooooooooooooow. Which will drive me crazy, because the days will be so long.
Buzz!
I’ve been up. I’m going to pick up Milo this morning from the dog sitter. What are you up to?
Do I tell Aiden via text what happened with Jamie? I know I should probably do it in person, but I don’t know if I can spend all day with this rolling around in my head. Especially with so little to do. I’ll probably fixate on it for that very reason alone.
Maybe it’s best that I start the conversation now,I muse.
I begin typing:
There’s something I need to tell you. I was talking with my brother Jamie on Connectivity Video Connect last night, and he figured out that I was seeing someone on the team. It was all over my face. I’m so sorry! I tried to deflect it, not answer it, but then he zeroed in on you, and he figured it out based on my expression. Please don’t worry—Jamie promised me this is my business, not his, and he’s definitely not going to tell Ethan or Mom and Dad.
Do I send this? I read it, bite my lip, wince, and then hit send.
There’s no immediate response.
I force myself to look at my computer. Take a sip of my latte. Examine my manicure.
I check my phone. There’s still no reply.
My heart sinks. Is Aiden pissed off? Is that why he’s not replying? I don’t even see that he’s typing anything. But then …
Brooks is typing …
My heart freezes in anxiety. I have no idea how he’s going to respond. I’m practically holding my breath as his reply drops in:
