Page 20 of All Too Well
I did a quick Google search on this league, and it’s worse thanI thought. After I decided there was no way I could make a story out of that, I looked at the guys in the league. Now, there might be something, but still, it’s going to be a damn stretch.
I groan and bang my hand on the steering wheel. “Seriously! Baseball, football, hockey, even that other game you made me sit through would be better.”
“Tennis?” she asks as though I’m an idiot.
“Yes. Tennis. That was horrible, but at least it was a real sport. Ugh! I’m screwed!”
“You’re not screwed. You just need to find an angle that makes it sound a little less ridiculous.”
Like that’s going to happen. “Where exactly is the less part? So far I have four guys who were literally draft bound or drafted into their prospective hobbies.”
“Sports,” Caroline corrects.
“Sports, whatever, and instead of going to the big leagues.”
“Professional teams,” she cuts in again.
“Right. Those. They’re here playing Frisbee. Did you even know that was a thing?”
Caroline snorts. “Nope. So what are you going to do?”
I stare out the windshield, hoping for the answer to magically appear, but it doesn’t. “I guess I have to call Mr. Krispen and tell him this is a nonstory. That Lachlan is just a former trophy winner who saved a kid and lives in a small town. There’s nothing exciting here.”
I hear something slam loudly, causing me to jump. “You will not do that, damn it.”
“I won’t?”
“No! You are Ainsley freaking MacKinley! You are going to write this article and you are going to make it your bitch.”
I sit back, pursing my lips. “I am?”
Caroline’s voice is firm. “You damn sure will. Are you one of the top reporters to ever come out of NYU?”
“Maybe. I don’t know that I would say the top, but I think I was good.”
She huffs. “You’re killing me here. Youknow that?”
I’m totally bringing down her rather rousing speech and pep talk. I just don’t know how I’m going to do this. It feels like everything is going wrong.
“I’m sorry.”
Caroline’s friendship doesn’t waver, though. “Listen, all stories are hard. No matter what you’re writing about. Do you think if this was about that senator that it would’ve been any easier?”
I think about that for a second and release a long breath. “Well, no.”
“Exactly. So again, what are you going to do?”
That fire in my belly reignites, and I feel my confidence rising like the sun. I can do this. She’s right. I don’t give up. I’m the daughter of a freaking admiral. I’m totally going to write this article.
“I’m going to slay!” I say, letting myself feed into my inner power. “I’m going to give the best stupid sports story about a bunch of old guys, and it’s going to sweep the nation.”
“That’s it.”
“I’m going to give the people what they didn’t even know they wanted.”
“Damn right you are,” Caroline echoes. “And what are you going to tell them?”
“I have no idea.”
