Dee and I make our way into the hotel’s ballroom.
Another opportunity for an ironic joke for a room full of strong women.
“Holy cow.” Dee says and I nod.
The room is dimly lit but uplighting along the wall highlights the award recipients. They’re featured on baseball card style posters.
Last year I received the award for most notable breakout athlete for my TP World Championship win. That race was the hardest thing I’ve ever done and when I crossed the finish line I couldn’t stop laughing.
The tension, the relief, the overwhelming sense of accomplishment had me giddy. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that my dad was there with me. Clapping me on the shoulder and grinning from ear to ear.
This past year I’ve focused on keeping my top rank among the world’s elite TP racers. The World Championship race is in two months and I’m hoping for a repeat.
“Do we get to sit with Lucy?” Dee asks. “She’s gotta be the highest paid athlete here. And, I think she’s single.”
“And into women?”
“A girl can only hope.” Dee says as she pulls a glass of champagne from a passing tray. She takes a sip as she continues to scan the room. “Ohmygods, all my heroines are here.”
“We knew they would be, Dee.” I tell her, trying to tamper my excitement about being in this room too.
We both turn our heads when we hear a girl exclaim “are you serious?” behind us.
It’s Jo Hamilton, World Cup Champion, and her boyfriend, Stanley Cup winner, Bryson Svoboda. And from the looks of it Bryson is wearing the same dress as Jo.
I snicker through my nose as Dee’s eyes grow wide.
We watch as Jo pulls him by the hand to the wall behind us. “This is why you wouldn’t meet me beforehand? You’re an idiot.”
“C’mon this is hilarious.” Bryson pleads his case.
“Oh, yeah, it’s going to be.” Jo says.
“What do you mean?” We watch his eyes grow wide as Jo whispers in his ear. He swallows and then guides his hands down in front of his crotch.
Jo leans back, smiling smugly, and kisses him on the cheek before wiping away her lip gloss from his skin.
“How am I supposed to hide a boner in a dress?” Bryson calls after her as she strides confidently away.
“I’d say that backfired on him.” Dee says with a giggle as we turn back to the room.
“I’d say!” We make our way to get some appetizers from a waiter weaving through the tables.
My phone buzzes in my bag and I pull it out.
Dee sent me a picture of you in that dress. I’m biting my fist and using the other wishing it was you Princess.
Heat flushes my cheeks and I seriously regret bringing my bestie to this event and not my man.
Send me a video. I’ll watch it later.
The three little dots appear and then disappear. I run my tongue over my teeth and roll my hips to move some of the tension around. He’s back home in Chicago and we’re in L.A. but just one text has me caving to him and wanting to be the recipient of his praise.
“Laney Matteson?” I’m pulled from my dirty train of thought when tennis legends Maggie Taylor and Rowan Amory approach the table. “I thought that was you!”
“Maggie! Hi!” I set down my phone and give her a hug, breaking the little pinky finger hold she and Rowan had. They’re just freaking adorable. “This is my best friend Dee.”
“Hi! It’s so good to meet you!” Dee gushes. “Big fan.”
