“It is,” I say quietly. “We’re friends, and that gives you the right to ask me the hard questions. I promise to always answer truthfully.”
“Jabari,” she whispers. “I’m not sure I can handle the truth right now.”
“Fair enough.” I slowly nod. “Whenever you want to talk about it, you know how to reach me.”
“Thank you for not pushing.”
“Of course.” But that one comment has me wondering how many people in Val’s life push her beyond her readiness. If I can offer her one thing—because I’m certainly not the hockey player Raimo offered, not anymore—it’s my willingness to go her speed. If she doesn’t want anyone knowing we’re friends, then I’ll remain hidden. If she wants to tell her family, I’ll reassure them I have no ulterior motives.
I’ve never had a friend quite like Val Elliott, and I certainly don’t want to mess this up. Who knew I needed someone I could trust with the hard stuff?
“I have to get Jackie’s dry cleaning, but if you want a ride, I can drop you off at the arena.” She clears her throat. “But, um, I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to attend the meeting with your coaches. They all know my father, and I can’t risk this getting back to him.”
A warm hand reaches for mine, and I clasp it, so she knows her answer is okay.
“I’m sorry, Jabari.”
“Don’t be. I get it. I don’t want to cause a strain between you and your family.” I squeeze her hand, then let go.
My throat stings, and I can’t figure out why, so I shove my hands into my pockets. “Where’s the dry cleaners?”
“Columbia Heights. Do you mind the detour?”
“No.” It’ll give us more time to hang out. The voice texts are nice, but spending time face-to-face is even better. I’ll leave a message for Luke, letting him know the change of plans. Hopefully, he’ll enjoy a nice long lunch.
“What’s an average day like for you?” I ask once Val’s driving.
“I usually sit in meetings for Dad or Jackie. Fran never wants me to assist her, but she’ll ask me to arrange travel if one of the other assistants is busy.”
“I thought you were the project manager?” Isn’t that what she said on our blind date?
“I am, but I do a lot of assistant tasks while managing everyone’s projects.”
“What does that entail?”
“I keep a database of all the client information—when contracts are due for negotiations, the client’s playing schedule, and anything else they want their agent to track. I also keep note of athletes who are searching for representation, et cetera.”
“Sounds like a lot of spinning plates.”
She laughs. The sound is light and airy, and makes my lips shift upward. Despite a busy life, Val seems so centered. How did she get that way? A two-parent upbringing? Having support from two sisters?
“There are so many spinning plates, but we have the right amount of employees for it all. As long as everyone does their part, things run smoothly.”
“And you’re running things.”
I don’t hear a shoulder shrug, but I get the vibe she makes the move anyway. Val seems the type to brush off accolades when she’s probably the one who deserves them the most.
“Dad runs things.”
“Because his project manager doesn’t let anything slip past her fingers.”
“Hush. Enough about me. What about you? How did you get into hockey? It’s not like a lot of African Americans are in the league.”
“Definitely not, but I credit my mom. She won a pair of kids’ ice skates one Christmas. She’d been working two jobs when I was a toddler, barely making ends meet, so she entered a bunch of sweepstakes that were giving away kids’ toys. She hit the jackpot that year. Won a pair of ice skates, a toy car set from another store, and a superhero bed set from another company. She still has the pictures of me attempting to stand up in the skates for the first time.”
A smile lifts my lips at the memory. “She took me to the local rink on Thursdays because it was only a dollar to skate if you owned a pair, and she set out to teach me on her own.”
“When did you start learning how to play hockey?”
