At least I can use my plus-one to give my friend access to the pros-only section of the event.
She makes a round through the expo to check it out while I do my duty. It’s fun to greet the fans, always is, and more and more of them seem to be coming to meet me specifically. I’ve been bringing it on the field the last few games, holding my edge without pushing too hard. I make sure to play it up for the fans, talking big but always bringing it back to the team, just like Mel taught me in our publicity crash course.
“They don’t call us the Force for nothing,” I tell a couple young fans. “We’re going to be unstoppable the rest of the season.”
When they take off, I look up, and my pulse jumps. Troy is lumbering through the expo, making his way toward the closed-off professional area. He’s in a gray suit, paired with an old baseball cap, and I watch as the crowd makes way, parting for him.
I figured he was going to be here, and the agency knows I’m here, too. Since the baseball game, I’ve been trying to give him space to consider the offer more, but forget space when he’s right in front of me. My feet are about to move me toward Troy, except Kevyn walks up right at that moment.
“Hey, man,” he says as he joins me behind the booth. He gestures to a few mascots, walking by together and waving at the crowd. “Nothing like the Sports Expo, right?”
I greet him with a back slap. Every member of the team has to do a certain number of events like this, but I know Kevyn volunteered for this one.
“You like it?”
He shrugs. “A sunny Friday like this, if I’m not with the team, I’d want to be out on the cliffs. Better to keep myself busy.” He points at me. “By the way, you beat me to the morning text twice this week. Don’t think I’m going to let that happen again next week.”
I chuckle. “Just keep those pics of your breakfast coming.”
Punctuality is taking me a set of three different alarms, but hell, at least it’s working.
“Hey, Stace,” Kevyn says, raising a hand for a half-wave as Stace approaches. She’s got a tote bag filled with brochures and papers, and she smiles when she sees Kevyn.
“Hey, Kevyn. Nice footwork last game.” She pulls her water from her bag and takes a sip, then coughs lightly.
“Oh!” I stand to attention, my brain jumping into action. “Kevyn, you remember Stace is finishing her MBA. She’s preparing to launch her own training platform.”
Kevyn gives me a confused look while Stace laughs. “Uh, yeah, I remember our favorite trainer, dude,” he says.
Stace puts the water back in her bag. “That wasn’t… I was really…” She tries to explain without having to spell it out.
I realize what I did and grin at her. “Right. Sorry.”
“Your platform mixes training and competitive play for recreational athletes,” Kevyn says, pulling up a perfect description. “I remember because you told me one time that distance running and rock climbing should be part of my soccer training.”
“That’s the idea,” Stace says. “Whatever makes you happy is good for your health, and people are more likely to exercise when it’s a social pleasure instead of a task.” She hesitates, giving Kevyn a half-smile, and then nods toward the back. “Orlando, shall we?”
We make it through security and into the rear, a much smaller and less-crowded section of the expo. There are still booths scattered around, but all the pro athletes, team owners, and corporate types seem more interested in mingling with each other.
Cameras flash in one corner. When I turn back to Stace, I see Troy behind her, glowering as he talks to a shorter man in a blue suit. My eyes latch onto him, but he doesn’t look my way.
Stace glances over her shoulder. “Oh,” she says. “I should have guessed.” When she turns back to me, I’m still staring. “Ha-choo,” she says dryly.
“What?” I ask, psychically urging Troy to notice me.
“Ha-choo, ha-choo,” she says again. “Stare much?”
I blink and finally tear my eyes away. “I need him to see me. We can’t be in the same room without talking. That’s messed up.”
Stace shifts her tote bag. “Then go talk to your agent like a normal person. Staring with your horny eyes just gives away the secret.”
I rub my hand over my face. “I do not have horny eyes,” I mumble. “But you’re right. Sure you don’t want to join me?”
“I’ll check out this marketing firm, thanks very much. You can keep this mess all to yourself.”
We part ways with another high-five. As I approach Troy, he’s clearly rejecting the man in the blue suit, who gives him a resigned nod before walking away, shoulders slumped.
Troy is still glaring when he looks directly at me, and I almost convince myself I see a flinch of something else, but his expression quickly hardens again.
