“Later, sisters. I love you.”
They wave and blow kisses and I hit End on our Skype session and shut my laptop. I love my sisters more than anyone else in the world. They’ve been my best friends my entire life, but I’m still not ready to admit to them that this thing with Elijah is anything more than innocent flirtation. Still, as I rush to the bathroom to give my makeup and hair a final primp, I grab the pearl necklace and teardrop earrings Sadie mentioned earlier. In case she’s right and it does make Eli think inappropriate thoughts. Then I head to the hotel where the event is happening.
If flirting with Eli is playing with fire, then I’m a goddamn pyromaniac. I can’t stop doing it. It’s too much fun, and I feel like ninety percent of the fun was sucked out of my life in the last two years. Eli brings it back.
It’s not anyone’s fault—not even mine—that life got so serious. Finding out your dad’s clock is ticking down way faster than it should makes life refocus and forces you to grow up fast. I know that I don’t do the things most twenty-somethings do. I spend most of my free time with my family because I’ll be damned if I’m going to miss a moment with my dad on purpose. And my mom and my sisters—and Jude, even though he’ll never admit it—need me as much as I need them to get through this. The idea of throwing a boyfriend into that just doesn’t feel right. Sadie stopped dating when we found out about Dad too, and Winnie’s relationship with her long-term boyfriend is a disaster. Because we’re barely holding it together. If…when Dad finally dies, I am going to be a mess. An inconsolable, devastated, broken mess. No outsider needs to deal with that. So I haven’t bothered with guys and dating. I’d rather just focus on what’s important—my family.
Flirting with Elijah is the exception to that rule. I get to be wild and inappropriate and horny and all the other things young career girls should be in their spare time. But hooking up with him would be careless…if the no-fraternization clause applies to the Storm players. I just assumed it did, but I didn’t read the paperwork all that carefully when I signed it as an intern. I was just thrilled to be a part of the organization and start my career working for Ryanne Bateman. I didn’t think the policy would ever matter.
As I walk into the hotel, I head straight to where the event is happening. I smile at a few employees as I pass by. They smile briefly and scurry past. Everyone is in hustle mode already. Good.
Nadine is standing at the entrance to the tiki-themed lounge we’ve rented for this event. It’s a great intimate location with mood lighting designed like tiki torches and funky bamboo tables. The Thunder do three major charity events during the year—this is actually the smallest. Nadine looks stressed as she surveys the employees. “Are you okay with the silver napkins? They gave me a choice of silver or black because you know, team colors. But Trish wasn’t here and I didn’t want to call you because I thought I could handle it, but now I’m worried I made the wrong call.”
“Silver is perfect. The black ones always seem morbid rather than classy.” I pat her shoulder reassuringly. She looks so relieved I almost laugh. I remember being that eager and panicked all at once. “You’re doing great, Nadine.”
“Thank you.” She smiles proudly. “Oh, and I brought the HR handbook you asked for. It’s in my purse.”
She walks over to a nearby table and grabs her purse off the seat. It’s honestly the size of a suitcase, which was one of the first things I noticed about her. It’s her quirk. Everyone has a quirk, and ever since I was a kid, I’ve loved finding them in people. I haven’t been able to find one in Trish yet, and that’s one of the reasons I find her off-putting. Nadine pulls out the thick, neatly bound Code of Conduct for Thunder employees.
“Thank you!” I immediately open it and start flipping pages.
“Hey, ladies! It looks great in here!”
We both turn and see Trish walking toward us with a purposeful stride. She’s wearing a simple black cocktail dress with a flared skirt that lands below her knee and strappy silver heels. Her eyes widen a little as they land on me, and I can’t decide if she’s shocked or offended by my dress choice, but either way it makes me uncomfortable.
“What’s that?” Trish asks, pointing to the HR manual in my hand.
“Nothing.” I shrug casually. “Just some HR stuff.”
“Are you going to read the fraternization clause out loud before the guests get here?” Trish asks, grinning.
My heart stops. Oh my God, she knows? How does she know?
Trish keeps talking. “Out loud to the players? I mean, we should if you think it’ll get them to finally stop hitting on the cute female fans at these events.”
Oh. She doesn’t actually know why I have the book. She’s making a joke. I almost sigh audibly in relief. Trish giggles lightly and turns to Nadine. “I heard Jude Braddock rents hotel rooms where we have events so he can sleep with guests.”
“Not anymore,” I reply quickly. “He’s settled down now and has a kid on the way.”
Trish nods. “Oh, I know. I wish some guy would look at me the way Jude looks at his girlfriend.”
She sighs longingly. Nadine smiles. “It’s amazing that a guy who once had a dick pic on the internet could now be in a relationship goals meme.”
“Oh God!” I groan like I always do when Jude’s famous dick pic comes up. “Please tell me the guests are about to arrive so we can stop having this conversation.”
Trish glances at the pretty rose gold watch on her arm. “Actually they are. Nadine, do a last-minute sweep of the room to make sure everything is in place. Dixie, double-check that the bartenders have everything they need. I’m heading to the kitchen to make sure the appetizers are hot and ready to circulate.”
Nadine scurries off and I force myself to nod and walk toward the main bar, even though the fact that she’s throwing around orders makes me bristle. She’s not my boss. In fact, I have seniority over her, but right now that doesn’t matter. We just need to make sure everything is ready.
The bartenders are good to go, so I decide to sneak off to the bathroom to freshen up my lipstick and then read every single word of the nonfraternization clause. I leave the tiki bar and head down the long hallway toward the restrooms. I swing open the door and glance around. It’s empty, so I walk over to the sink, barely glance at my reflection and start flipping through the booklet again.
I find the clause I’m looking for on page nineteen. I hold my breath and read the section so fast the words get blurry for a second and then I let the air out of my lungs and read it again much more slowly. It doesn’t say “and their affiliates.” It doesn’t include Sacramento Storm in any wording. It says that although connections on a friendly level are encouraged between staff and rostered players of the San Francisco Thunder, romantic involvement of any kind is not condoned and can result in termination.
“What’s so exciting?”
My eyes fly up and as I close the handbook and put it behind my back, I see Ann, our assistant manager of communications, standing at the end of the line of stalls. She’s smiling. “You didn’t even hear me come in, but whatever has you distracted also has you smiling.”
My free hand flies up to my mouth. She’s right. I am smiling. Oops. Her brown eyes move to the mirror and down. Then she points. “What are you reading?”
