Page 98 of ClickBack

“You are.”

“Don’t get pleased yet. I still have to see you on wheels.”

Friday, she opens the door in an ivory romper and sneakers, with her bob curved against her jaw. The outfit has pockets. I discover that because she puts both hands in them while I look at her legs.

“You said casual.”

“You did good.”

“So did my washing machine. It has been working toward this moment all week.”

I kiss her before she can find another way to make me laugh. She takes one hand out of her pocket and rests it at the back of my head. By the time she draws away, Graves has found something on his phone that apparently requires all his attention.

“He knows where we’re going,” she says.

“He does.”

At the SUV, Giselle leans toward the open front window. “Good morning, Graves. How much does loyalty cost?”

“More than he’s paying.”

“Get in the car, Zel.”

She slides into the back, laughing. “There’s room to negotiate.”

For most of the drive she tells me about Zion disputing his place in the batting order. He has prepared statistics, none of which account for the three other boys hoping to bat where he wants to bat. I tell her I respect the preparation. She says that is exactly why she has not given him my number for consultations.

Her hand rests on my thigh while she talks. I cover it with mine and leave it there until she sees the airport signs.

“Jarrett.”

“Yeah.”

“People skate in Pennsylvania.”

“I’ve heard.”

“They even do it in New Jersey when conditions allow.”

Graves laughs. No attempt to hide it.

“Atlanta,” I tell her.

She turns to look at me properly. “You are flying me to Atlanta to roller skate?”

“I asked around for a good adult session. People kept sending me south.”

“Who did you ask?”

“People who know more about skating than me.”

“Well, that leaves the field open.”

I squeeze her hand. She looks out the window when we turn away from the commercial terminals, then goes quiet as Graves stops outside the private terminal. Beyond the glass, a crew member walks around the plane.

Giselle looks down at her small bag. “I have lip gloss and a pair of socks.”

“You have your ID?”