Page 136 of Breaking Away

“N-no.”

“The photos you did for us had triple our usual engagement numbers. And since numbers don’t lie, I sent you a job offer.”

When? I would never miss that kind of thing. “I didn’t get an offer.”

“Check your email, Ms. Basra.”

I pull out my phone and can’t find anything.

“Search for my name,” he instructs. “In case it ended up in?—”

“Spam,” I whisper. There it is. I can’t believe it. I say just as much.

“Believe it. I want you to work for us.”

“You want me?” I repeat.

“As a social media manager, yes. It took some time to convince my boss the team needs to invest in marketing. You know what some of these older business people are like. If it’s not measurable directly, it’s not worth it.” He huffs. “But I told him that social media is where fans get to know our players. It builds a community and increases ticket sales.”

He goes on, repeating what I suspect is the actual speech to his boss. Me, I’m sitting here completely dazed.He wants my work. For real.

The doubts that hibernate in my head start shrinking. My spine straightens, slowly growing power like the sails of a boat catching wind.

I’m not being given this position because the team knows me. This isn’t out of pity or pressure.

Numbers don’t lie.

They don’t, do they? My work… Could it be ready? Is it good enough? Could I actually share it with the world? Will it mean something to someone else?

“I haven’t found anyone to fill the spot,” says Tim, “and honestly I hate interviewing, so I’ve been putting it off.” He studies me seriously. “Please review the offer. We would love to have you keep photographing for us.”

“I—okay.”

“Good. Please get back to me within a few days.”

I don’t remember leaving, wandering the stadium, or making my way to the Wings dressing room. Before I can turn around,Hughes rounds the corner and spots me. His face breaks into a grin.

“You’re back, Kavi.” He opens the door, gesturing me forward. “Come on. The rest of the team is inside.”

I’ve barely followed him in before I’m getting hugged by Quinn, Matt, and Emmad.

“We’re going to let loose tonight after the game,” says Matt. “You have to come out with us. It’s our last stand.”

“Because the play-offs are right around the corner,” Emmad translates.

“Sure,” I laugh. “That sounds fun.”

“Are you back?” asks Quinn. “Please tell me you are back. We need Lokhov to be Lokhov again.”

Before I can question what that means, the door behind us opens. Dmitri strides in, halting when he sees me.

For a moment, I wonder if it’s okay that I'm here. He’s never made me feel unwelcome, but we’ve also never talked about it. I don’t want to assume it’s always alright to be around this part of his life, especially when he needs to meditate before playing. Just because he’s been inside me, it doesn’t mean I’m given free rein to trespass everywhere. What if?—

Dmitri smiles at me. That tiny rare smile.

Walking past his team, ignoring them, he comes to stand in front of me. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Unfiltered happiness blooms in my chest.

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