Page 34 of Off Camera
“Thank goodness. That would be boring as hell.” He cuts a look at me. “Sorry, Reidy Boy.”
“My job is way more interesting than that. The summit is a big conference for people who work for the NFL behind the scenes. Social media managers. Marketing and ticket sales. Ever since Theo Asher from Cincinnati started dating Ella Wright, the world’s biggest superstar, we’ve seen a thirty-four percent increase in viewership in women over thirty-five. There are more sponsorship opportunities and higher ad revenue. Plus, people are buying tickets hoping they’ll see her when their team plays Cincy.”
“Wow. Women are incredible.” Maverick taps Emmy’s hip. “A woman in the NHL. More women watching football. I’m all for it.”
“It’s awesome,” I agree. “Next weekend is about how we can continue to increase the visibility of the sport and reach new demographics. There are panels set up for specific work groups. They asked me to give a speech, but you all know I hate public speaking. The less people who know my name, the better.”
“You’re so good at your job, though,” Dallas says. “Social Media Account of the Year. Millions of followers. You should own that shit.”
“Yeah, but they only know the DC Titans account. Not me, Reid Duncan, the guy who puts together all the content from either the couch in my living room or my office at the arena.”
“Huh. I didn’t realize you’re never in the stuff you share online,” Dallas says.
“Nope. I’m happier off camera where no one can see me,” I say. “Hiding in the shadows. Unrecognizable. You don’t even hear my voice in the videos.”
“I could never,” Maverick says. “I want my name in big, bright lights.”
“Is that to compensate for something?” Maven asks, appearing next to Dallas in one of his practice T-shirts that hangs down to her knees.
“There’s the bride.” Emmy jumps to her feet and gives her best friend a hug. “How the hell did you sleep with your hair like that? There has to be a hundred bobby pins in there.”
“That explains the headache. I thought it was the bourbon.” Maven grins and glances at me. “Where did you disappear to last night, Reid? I wanted to introduce you to someone. She’s the librarian at June’s elementary school.”
“You don’t have to introduce him to anyone. Our Reidy Boy took care of that all by himself.” Maverick grins. “Some girl named Avery.”
“Avery?” Maven repeats. She and Dallas exchange a look, and he gives her a subtle shake of his head. “How did that—but you—what?”
“He met her at a bar last week, then saw her again last night. Keep up, Mae,” Maverick says. “She reads comic books.”
“Now that you say it out loud, I might have made her up.” I swirl my coffee around. “There’s no way in hell she’s real.”
“Did you like her?” Maven asks.
“Of course he liked her. They went back to his room and had a grand ole time,” Maverick says.
I grab the pillow from behind me and launch it at him. It hits him square in the face, and he yelps.
“Can we not announce it to the entire world, please? Yes, I like her. Yes, we hooked up, but I’m sure she only agreed to have dinner with me so she can let me down gently. The woman is fucking gorgeous. She has no business hanging out with someone like me,” I say.
“Hey.” Dallas frowns. “You have to stop selling yourself short like that. You’re a catch, Reid.”
“Lexi, one of the Stars athletic trainers, thinks you’re really cute,” Emmy tells me. “So do I.”
“I’m still here,” Maverick grumbles, and we all ignore him.
“Avery wouldn’t agree to have dinner with you just to reject you,” Maven says. “Her job is demanding. She also travels a lot. It would be good for her to spend time with someone who understands the stress of being in and out of the city every weekend.”
“We’ll see.” I shove my glasses up my nose and shrug. “Last night was nice because I could keep my phone off and focus onher. This time next month we’ll be in Miami, and I’ll be spending most of my days at the arena filming content with the boys.”
“I bet you focused on her,” Maverick says, and Emmy leans over to pinch his ear. “What? It was a compliment. You know Reid is a thorough motherfucker. He probably gave her the best night of her life.”
“I’m done with you.” I stand and grab the box of donuts. “And I’m taking these with me.”
“This feels like a personal attack,” Maverick says.
“It’s deserved,” Emmy tells him.
“Guess that means you won’t be at dinner on Tuesday?” Dallas asks, bringing up our standing tradition of going to Maverick and Emmy’s apartment with the Stars hockey players and hanging out.
