Page 5 of His Jersey

The subject of their conversation makes my chest tight like one of those raccoons just kicked me hard.

Minka says, “I’ve lost count of how many women he’s dated.”

“I’ve heard he has a reputation, but there’s no shame in his game. Am I right?” Yvonne asks.

They laugh together, but I can imagine them throwing the other under the guest trolley in a race to see who will get to the billionaire first.

Sorry to burst your bubble, but the bad boy hype is overrated.

Yvonne continues, “I’m not stupid enough to think he’d want to marry me or anything, but we could have a fun time. I heard that when he visits, he picks one woman to be his flingfor the weekend. Though I’m sure he has some standards.” Once again, Yvonne looks at me and says, “He’d never hook up with the help.”

Joke is on you because I wasn’t always the help. But Slater has always been a jerk.

If only I’d known the truth. They wouldn’t believe my story f I warned them. Most days I ask myself how I got here, how this is my life.

If I were in a musical, I’d sing a solo about how hard it is being “The Help,” and then I’d strut past the mean girls, with a boost of confidence giving me a little skip in my step. Instead, I slip away unnoticed, which is the way I’d like to remain if the resort owner’s son is returning.

To my knowledge, Slater hasn’t been back since his abrupt departure, likely jet-setting and “flinging” himself around the globe on Daddy’s dime.

But it doesn’t matter. After Slater, I’d never want to be with a billionaire, not because the finances wouldn’t help me tremendously, but because they can’t be trusted. Yvonne can keep her fling. I want something real. But I’m not looking, so it doesn’t matter.

On my way to the lobby, I dig in my bag for a coin. I find loose change from all over the world when cleaning rooms. I save the US currency, but toss the rest in the massive mermaid fountain, wishing to find a better way to pay for my dad’s care.

Today, I just hope that Slater doesn’t find me still here.

With the break clock ticking, I breeze past the Beachside and sit on a bench, enjoying my freedom while I can.

A couple jogs on the beach, bringing to mind Jack. Like a woman on a desert island, I think about him often. I’ll never forget when something flickered in his piercing blue eyes … and in my chest.

By now, he probably has a girlfriend. Maybe he’s engaged.Or married with a kid and a doodle dog or something equally adorable. Would he and his bride have come here for their honeymoon?

The notion makes me sad even though it shouldn’t. After being burned by the billionaire resort owner’s son, I know better than to believe that a knight in shining armor or Prince Charming is going to rescue me, despite Edwina’s optimism.

Someday, when Dad’s bills are paid, I’ll find my way off this island, but until then, this job pays more than I’d make in Philadelphia. My living expenses are virtually non-existent, but the stress of literally being a beach bum is ever-present, and I pray daily that I don’t get caught.

Maybe the raccoons will take me in.

I open the box of chocolates, but liquid pools in the little crevices where the morsels should be. My fault for leaving them in the sun.

This about sums up my life. It’s like a box ofmeltedchocolates. Literally. Would it be wrong to lick the remains of the chocolate from the little tray? Probably.

But I don’t want to be right. I want chocolate. My break is over. Time to get back to my so-called Cinderella life.

3

JACK

After the bustedgame against the Oklahoma Thunder, Coach finally catches up with me, requesting that we have a word.

Bracing myself for a reprimand over my lackluster performance, I tell myself to shake it off, just like all the other oddities of this past week. I’ll reset and come back better than ever after I escape to Jewel Island.

Coach Remy Rougier is a stout man who I’ve never seen lace up. When I signed with the Storm, legendary coach Axel McAden led us like a general. Remy is more of a bowling pin than a cannonball, but his nervous expression worries me.

I follow him to a random office that looks like it’s been vacant since the Cold War. A fluorescent light flickers above a table with two folding chairs. The metal groans when Remy sits down.

My mind records the details of my surroundings to avoid even a second wasted speculating about what he wants to tell me. Or maybe I’m capturing this moment like abeforephotograph because my life is about to change forever.

“Jack, please take a seat.”

---