Page 68 of Beautiful Storm

“Morning, Amelia,” Dylan says as he walks by, smiling with a new warmth as he begins to trust me. Most of the players are friendly with me now. You could say I’ve become a part of the furniture. While not all of them are completely comfortable with the cameras, they’ve separated me from that intrusion, and I’m grateful for that. Because this freaking team is growing on me.

“Dylan. Hi. How are you? How are the boys?” His wife, Summer, and their two boys came in to visit the other day—on a non-shoot day—and a new excitement welled inside me. When it comes to kids, I’ve never been that person. I wanted them, sure. I stopped taking the pill while I was married, but I wasn’t one ofthose women that naturally gravitated toward kids. Now that I’m pregnant, it’s a different story. Someone introduces me to a child and I immediately want to know everything about them. I’m a sponge. I’ve been reading up on all things relating to pregnancy and babies, but no matter how much I learn, it will never be enough. How can it be? There’s no one-size-fits-all when it comes to kids. You just never know what they’re going to be like.

Dylan stops walking and his smile widens. “Josh is a handful. We love him, but that’s the best way to describe him, and Chris, my gentle soul, continues to blow my mind with how fast he’s growing up. He wants to keep up with his big brother more than anything else.”

“I can imagine.”

“I never asked, do you have kids?”

“Not yet, no.”

“I bet it would be hard with a job like this. You’re always here. No matter what time of the day I’m here, you’re here.” I internally wince at his words, but he's not wrong. The long hours, the fast pace, the unpredictability of it all—it’s not easy. But…

“I don’t think it would be any harder than being a professional football player and having kids.”

“True, and that’s why I’m retiring.” His eyes widen before he glances around. “That’s off-the-record, right?”

I pretend to zip up my lips and nod. “Off-the-record.”

“Thanks. I’ve told those that I have to tell, but haven’t announced it to the team. It’s hard keeping a secret, but I don’t want them to start treating me differently yet.”

Dylan just nailed my feelings completely. I’ve mentioned my pregnancy to Jim because he runs the business side of the company, and I assume he’s mentioned it to Tom and HR, but I haven’t announced it because I don’t want to be treateddifferently. “Believe it or not, I understand. Your secret is safe with me.”

A few of the other guys arrive for their weight sessions, and we chat briefly about what we’re going to be filming. For some, the news pumps them up, while others visibly deflate, and I hate that. But it’s the nature of the job.

Since the schedule for today doesn’t require any specific action, I hand it over to my first assistant director Adrian to keep the team on track, then sneak into my office for some quiet time. I’ve had a headache for the past twenty-four hours and I need a slower day or it’s likely to get worse. I promised myself I’d take care of my body, and now that it’s not just me, I’m more determined.

When early afternoon hits, I’m scrolling through the footage they shot earlier in the day when I overhear Tom’s voice in the hallway. “And here we are,” he says, coming to a stop. “I’m sure Amelia can show you the dailies from last week,” he continues, and I hold back a laugh. He’s so old-school with the way he still refers to the footage as dailies. “She should be here. Last I heard she’d locked herself away to catch up on things.”

“Amelia?” Luke’s voice enters my mind and I freeze. “I thought George was going to show me the footage?” And I thought Tom was talking to a crew member.Why would Luke need to see anything?

“George is the one that mentioned it, but Amelia can show you. Hang on, I’ll make sure she’s inside.”

I pause the playback and stare at the door just as Tom opens up, letting the bright fluorescent lights filter into the room, momentarily blinding me.

“Good, you’re here,” he says, barely glancing my way. “Can you show Luke the footage from last Thursday’s practice? Our PR team wants to use some of it for a promo.”

“Ah, sure.” I’m confused by what that has to do with Luke because we had the players sign their lives away so we wouldn’t need to seek extra permission, but Tom’s the boss so I do as he asked. “Come in, Luke. Tom, do you know what I’m looking for?”

“Luke will know it. It’s toward the end of the session. I’ll leave you to it.”

Luke steps inside just as Tom lets go of the door, shadowing us in the soft dim light of my lamp.

“Sorry. I’ve had a headache all day,” I say when Luke looks around the dark room. “Feel free to turn on the overhead light.”

“I’m good with this.” He shakes his head as he moves toward me, and it snaps me into action, searching our files for last week’s footage. “I won’t be long,” he adds as he reaches me. “But have you taken anything?”

“What?” I stare up at him confused until he points to his head.

“For your headache.”

“Oh, right. Yes, I took some painkillers. Just waiting for them to kick in.” I’ve been waiting around twelve hours, but I refuse to take anything stronger.

“Okay.” Luke nods from the other side of my desk. “I’m sorry to interrupt you. I thought George was going to help me.”

“It’s fine. What do you need?”And why is this so awkward?We were more comfortable when we couldn’t stand each other. This new normal is odd. It doesn’t feel right and I don’t like it.

It takes a few minutes, but we find the section of footage he needs, and as soon as I hit play, I get it. Luke is decked out in his perfectly fitted gray-and-black practice gear as he runs down the field and leaps into the air before catching the ball and rolling over the back of his opponent. The play is over in a matter of seconds, but it’s everything we need to highlight the show. Especially since we have three different angles of the same shot. I click through the other files, and with each new angle, I grow prouder of my team. This footage is raw, fast-paced, fullof action and suspense, and it’s sexy as hell. The way they’ve captured Luke’s muscles flexing as he reaches out and curls the ball into his arm, or the close-up of the sheer determination set in his features. It’s something I could watch over and over. Hell, it’s something I want to watch over and over.

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