Page 9 of Your Secret to Keep

“That’s fair, but don’t let her meet some other loser on a dating app before you lock down another date. It’s tough out there.”

I cackle. “How in the hell would you know that? Mister ‘I married my high school sweetheart the month after graduation.’”

I might give him shit but anyone with even mediocre eyesight can realize Jalen and Stephanie, his wife, are truly the type of people meant to be. It’s nauseating how happy they are.

“Maybe mystery girl can make you as happy as Steph makes me?” he asks, nudging my shoulder.

Maybe. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t dished about the entire date to Jalen. I knew I was doing the opposite of playing it cool, but I kind of had to when the press took some photos of me out with Lia. The best photo is one someone took, and probably sold, of me standing in the restaurant and telling her fuck of a date to leave. I’ve only been known as one of the golden boys of the NBA, so I enjoyed people seeing me in a different way.

“We’ll come back to your dating life after we get the win. Let’s kick some California ass tonight, huh?”

I take a deep breath and smirk. “Let’s do it.”

Jalen and I pop up, doing our handshake before we take our places for the anthem.

Chapter 6

Lia

Ipinchmyselftomake sure I’m indeed awake. The pain is a welcome reminder I’m standing in the broadcast booth as the Jersey Jags are about to tip off.

“I know this is kind of bonkers, getting a rundown of the functions and places in the arena on your first night, especially during a game,” Megan chuckles, smiling in a way that I know she means it.

I’m familiar with this set up because I’m basically standing on the edge of a dream. I went to college for journalism and broadcasting, trying to find a way to get my hands on any and every opportunity to cover sports. This booth is the endgame, and I know this media team job is the first step in that direction.

“I know you’ve got some experience with this, so no need to tell you much more than this is where it is. You’re welcome to hang in the back during games you’re not working, as long as it’s not too crowded.”

I do my best to hide my Pennywise-like grin, brimming with excitement that starts at my core and reaches my bones. The idea of being able to attend these games for free? I’ve died and went to heaven. Being allowed in the booth? I’m going to pass out.

When Megan looks to me, she says, “Actually, there isn’t anything that’s off limits. Besides the training room when there’s a new injury, and the locker room before we get the ‘all clear.’”

Maybe the terrible date with Randall moved my karma in the right direction. Honestly, it’s the least he, or the universe, could do after that disaster.

Megan moves to the window, taking in the entire court and arena. Something happens and the feel of the crowd cheering starts at my feet, the ground almost rumbling, and travels up my body.

We look at the Jumbotron and see Brooks. My stomach bottoms out and I do what I can to not let the look he’s wearing push me back on my heels. Well, technically my sneakers. I’m wearing a pair of newly thrifted black wide-leg pants paired with a lilac chiffon button-up. I wouldn’t say it’s Jaguar colors, but this is what you get when you have short notice and no budget to find business casual attire. I’m wearing my trusty black and white Nike Dunks, the pair I found at a consignment store a few months ago.

The Jumbotron cuts from Brooks to one of the suites and back again.

“Oh, I forgot Zack Andersen was coming tonight. We’ll have to pop in and get some photos of them tonight.” Megan looks at me, like she needs me to remember, and I nod.

Zack Andersen—long snapper for the Upstate Cosmos—is Brooks’ half-brother. The story broke probably six months ago. Part of me almost asked about it when we were on our date, but it felt too personal.

“The plan is for you to watch the first half of the game tonight—consider it part of your signing bonus—then I’ll come get you for the second half and post-game coverage,” Megan explains while turning and leading us out of the booth. “I’ll show you to the staff hospitality suite and let you get settled.”

I don’t say anything because I sort of can’t believe this is happening.

“You good?” she asks.

“Ugh, erm.. yes! Totally good. Just taking it in.”

A smile spreads on Megan’s bold and red lips, the kind that feels genuine, and she stops for a moment. “I knew you were a fan, but I love that you’re afan. I have a feeling we’re going to have a blast working together.”

She shows me to the suite and tells me to take whatever seat I’d like. There’s food, drinks, and a spectacular view of the arena.

I sink into one of the deep leather theater seats and try to relax my body. I didn’t know what to expect from a game day orientation, but this quite literally feels like a dream come true. Cracking open a Dr. Pepper, my go-to beverage, I lean back and let the bubbles hit my tongue.

I’m thankful no one is around to watch when I kick my feet like a toddler as they announce the starting line ups.

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