Page 106 of Between the Blue
“Fine. Then do it,” I tell him.
“If only it were that easy.”
It’s not until now that I realize how close the two of us have become. And, despite the water I just downed, my mouth suddenly feels dry.
A bell rings behind us, and the room erupts into applause.
I turn around, seeing that we’ve just surpassed the gala’s donation goal. I start to spin back around, but my eyes catch on a familiar face.
One I’ve stared at on countless magazine pages and watched in hundreds of hours of interviews.
Natasha Collins is standing just twenty feet away, her arm hooked in Mr. Moreno’s as they talk to another couple.
My heart drops into my stomach and my pulse begins pounding in my ears. And I imagine I’m having the same reaction to seeing my idol before me as thousands of fans would have standing within feet of any of these hockey players I’m surrounded by right now.
“I’ll tell you what, Ben,” I say, turning back to face him. “I’ll give you what you want.” I point my finger in Natasha’s direction. “But you have to go up to Mr. Moreno and his wife and find a way to work into your conversation how great the team’s photography and social media have been.”
His brows knit together, his gaze flicking between me and where I’m pointing. “How does that get me what I want?”
“If I could land a job with Natasha’s company, I would be out of here. Gone tomorrow, if she asked. It would be a win-win for both of us. So just go talk to her. Put in a good word from the team’s captain, and I’m one step closer to being as far away from you as possible.”
Ben stares at me for a long time, his eyes darkening, but he makes no move in Natasha’s direction.
“Well?” I finally question him.
His throat bobs, but his stance remains firm.
“Champagne?”
I turn to the side, seeing a waiter offering a tray of champagne glasses to us. I look between Ben and the waiter twice. “Screw it,” I mutter, grabbing a glass and throwing it back in two gulps.
I wipe my mouth, setting it back on the waiter’s tray. “Thank you so much,” I tell him, taking off towards Natasha and Mr. Moreno before I can give it a second thought.
Somehow, as if the universe is actually on my side, the conversation they are currently in seems to come to a natural close just before I approach them.
It’s now or never.
“Hi, Mr. Moreno.”
He and Natasha both shift their focus to me, and Mr. Moreno’s face instantly lights up in recognition. “Addie,” he nods, shaking my hand. “I was wondering if we’d run into you tonight.” He turns to speak to Natasha. “Honey, this is Addison Dixon. She’s the team’s social media and photography intern.” He turns back towards me. “This is my wife–”
“Natasha Collins,” I cut him off, sticking my hand out for Natasha to shake.
She raises a thin brow at me, slowly accepting my handshake. “You know me,” she states.
“I more than know you,” I blurt. “I idolize you. And I know you’re a busy woman, so I won’t waste your time.”
Natasha’s second brow joins the first as she pulls her hand back from mine.
“I’m so thankful for my internship here with the Storm, but COBO is my dream. I’ve been taking photos of clothes since I could hold a camera and following your career since I could read a magazine. Your style, taste, business savvy, and the empire you’ve created is like no other and combines everything that I love. I admire you more than you could ever know. And I plan to work for you one day. However long it takes.”
I finally take a breath, looking at Natasha.
“Is that so?” she asks.
And, even though I have no idea which part of my monologue she is referring to, I still respond the same. “Yes.”
She looks me up and down, tilting her head, and then her gaze lifts, scanning the room. She twirls her finger. “Did you do all this?”
