Page 103 of Their Greatest Strength

Jamie brings his steady comfort to me with a hand to my lower back. “The interview withSports Weeklyis already up?”

“Yeah. It looked like it was shot from a few yards away from someone watching you,” she explains.

“What’s your name?” I ask her.

“Giana. Giana Mitchell.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Giana. I’m Blakely.”

She tips her mouth into a smile. “I didn’t mean to accost you in a parking lot. I always pass the stadium on my way home, and once I saw the video, I figured I’d see if you were still here. I’m apparently lucky today.”

“You should stop somewhere and buy a lottery ticket while you’re at it,” I suggest, half joking.

She tucks the stray brown hairs blowing in her face behind her ears, exposing more of the freckles sprinkled all over her nose and cheeks.

“Maybe I will, actually.”

Unsure what to say next, my anti-socialness kicks into overdrive. It’s not a purposeful thing. Just a very annoying, natural one.

“Sports Weeklyis full of sharks waiting for their next sniff of blood, Blakely. I’d keep an eye out now that you’ve handed Bobby his ass and the video of it has gone viral,” Giana adds, reading the vibe between us.

Jamie steps in now, his interest piqued. “You have experience with them?”

“Not me, but I work with the Warriors, so . . .”

“Say no more,” Jamie mutters.

“Or do say more. What does this guy have to do with the Warriors?” I ask, brows lifted.

Considering the Vancouver Warriors NHL team plays in the arena across the street, it makes sense that Giana would be passing here to go home, driving home the conclusion that she isn’t a creepy stalker.

“There was a lot of shit that went down with them and my cousin Maddox a few years back. It’s old news, and the reporter who was working there at the time has long since been fired,” Jamie explains.

I nod, leaning against him. “So, there’s still bad blood.”

“For the entire team, really. But I’m going to stop myselfbefore I get myself fired too,” she rushes out, smiling apologetically. “I should head home, anyway. Thank you for talking to me, Blakely. I meant what I said.”

“It was nothing.”

She shakes her head, her smile turning sad. “No, it wasn’t. It was important.”

“Then I guess you’re welcome.”

Raising a hand to wave, she starts retreating. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

She hops over a cement barrier and walks with a strong sense of purpose out of the parking lot while I watch, a part of me wishing I’d had the nerve to ask for her number or something.

“That was interesting,” Jamie notes, slipping the keys from my palm and unlocking the SUV doors. “She seemed nice, though, yeah?”

“Yeah, she was. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come up to me today.”

“We’ll have to look for this video once we get home. I need to know what we’re up against here.”

“Don’t you want to do that now?” I ask, brows dipping.

He holds my shoulders and turns me to face him and the now open driver’s door. “We already had plans, Bandit. Hop in, and we can get started.”

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