I scan through my encounters with Mindy. “She’s alluded to us hanging out a few times. I’ve ignored them. Other than that, she’s always kept things professional.”
“Yeah, well, she’s going on the map, and I’m running a background check.” Her arms fall to her sides. “We’re clear here. Let’s go.”
She climbs in the driver’s seat, and I throw my stuff in the back, then join her. Something happened with the woman sitting next to me, and I want to know what it is. The easygoing rhythm we’d fallen into is gone. All guards are back in place.
Ryder remains silent, driving toward the exit. Fans line the fence waiting, hoping I’ll roll down the window and sign something.
Rodney, one of my super fans, as he likes to call himself, is in his usual spot.
“Is that guy here every day?” Ryder scans the group, carefully pulling through the gate, making sure not to hit anyone as they crowd the car.
“Yeah. He’s nice and always respectful. I think he has some kind of disability.” He’s a middle-aged man who doesn’t say much but always has something for me to sign.
She turns onto the road and accelerates. “Do you know his last name or his story?”
“No. He waits here, sometimes outside the stadium. He rattles off my stats and talks about the game. He’s never been aggressive.”
She twists to look out the rearview window. “Is he a Stingrays fan or Cole Matthews fan? Ever seen him before you landed in Miami?”
I think for a second. “I don’t know. I think he told me he’s from Colorado, but I don’t remember ever seeing him back home.”
Ryder’s eyes bore into my side, but I choose not to look at her.
At a red light, she pulls her phone from her pocket and starts tapping away.
“What are you doing?”
She ignores me.
“Jones?” I say her name to get her attention.
“Doing my job.” She finishes her message and sets her phone on her leg. “You know, you’re not making this easy. I need to know about guys like that. People who follow you. Show up, looking to get close to you.”
Her tone is tense and irritable. Part of me gets it, but the other part. . .
“This is my life. People are everywhere all the time. They want my attention and something from me. I can’t look at every single person as if they might want to kill me.”
The severe quiet grates against my nerves along with whatever has pulled Ryder back into stone-cold mode. I thought we were past this.
Her phone buzzes, and she peeks at it.
“Who is that?” I gesture to her phone.
“Gus.”
“Gus? The gate security guard?”
She glances at me, but those blue-green eyes are shielded by her aviators. I want to reach over and slip them off to see if I can tell what’s really going on.
“Yes. We chatted while I was trying to figure out where in the hell you were. He’s going to see what he can squeeze out of your number one fan next time he shows.”
Ryder is getting to know the team’s security. I guess it’s to be expected, given she’s there basically every day, but now it’s my turn for questions.
“And Gus thinks you are. . . ”
Her head swivels in my direction. “We know each other. We work out at the same gym.”
Something about that irritates me, but I drop it like a hot coal. The silence around us is thick and pokes at my last nerve. I’m not one to shy away from issues, so I don’t.
