Page 110 of Lighting the Lamp
Mercer flicks his gaze from her to the guards, to Cooper, to me, and back again. For the first time, he hesitates, looking small. He shoves papers into his box, grabs a photo frame, a whistle, and some other things from his desk before slamming the lid closed. On his way out, he can’t resist one last swipe. “Enjoy the chair, Hendrix. It comes with knives.”
“Good,” Cooper says. “I brought a sharpening stone.”
Mercer’s face twists, but he doesn’t have a comeback. He slams the box lid shut and storms out, the door rattling behind him like a sulking child.
No one moves.
Janine is muttering something about drafting a statement just in case, before she spins around and points at Cooper. “If anyone asks, none of this happened. Got any questions?”
“No.” Cooper shakes his head before remembering his manners. “Thank you.”
“All in a day’s work.” Janine smiles before slipping out the door.
It’s only then that I realize my fists are still curled. Splinters of Mercer’s words are still lodged under my skin, but they don’t poison like they did a minute ago.
“Hey,” I say to Alycia as she heads for the door. “Thanks,”
“It’s my job to keep the room clear,” she responds, rolling one shoulder as if shrugging off the adrenaline. “Sometimes, that means moving a camera. Sometimes it means telling a man to shut up.”
“I liked that second one,” I say. “Five stars. Would subscribe.”
There’s the hint of a grin as she sets a slim folder on the edge of the desk with a cover sheet that readsROOKIE MEDIA PROGRAM. She taps it once, almost absently, and then looks up.
“Janine just put me in charge of our rookie media sessions for next season. We’re… pivoting on some messaging.” Her eyes flick toward the closed door, the meaning clear. “If you hear any chatter that needs correcting, send it my way. I don’t care how small. Small is how rumors get big.”
“Got it.” I tilt my head. “You always carry a fire extinguisher, or just on Tuesdays?”
“Depends on how flammable the room is.” The grin peeking out is real this time.
“Hope you’ve got extra tabs in there. Word is, my pain-in-the-ass little brother might be part of that rookie bunch.”
“Kyle Hendrix?” Alycia blinks, a flush creeps up her cheeks as she pulls her braid over her shoulder. “If he does, well… he’ll definitely keep things interesting.”
She winces lightly, like she might have said too much, and tucks the folder tighter under her arm. “I mean, from a PR standpoint. It’ll be… good experience.”
“That’s one word for it.” The corner of my mouth lifts as I try not to laugh.
She starts to turn, then hesitates as she glances back at me, something unspoken flickering in her eyes. “For what it’s worth, fans cheer for people who show up when it’s hard. And you’ve always shown up, Beau.”
For a moment, my chest loosens. Not completely, because Alise’s silence still pulls at me like a hook lodged deep, but enough that air moves more easily. Enough that the room feels wider than it did a heartbeat ago.
Cooper clears his throat, his voice steadier now and his eyes clearer. He nudges the chair with his knee like it’s an old friend he is finally ready to let go of.
“It’s go time. We’ve got a game to play.”
We step into the corridor, and sound rushes to meet us, sharper for the silence we just left behind. The controlled chaos of a team winding itself to the perfect pitch. Behind us, the office sits neat and quiet. A desk with no ghost in the chair, and a door that hopefully no longer sticks. It feels clearer now, stripped clean of Mercer’s shadow, like the air had been fumigated the second he walked out.
I thumb open my phone, not to scroll but to find her name, just her name, to anchor my fingers with something steadier than the churn in my chest. After the game, I am done with tomorrows. No more waiting for the right moment. No more silence growing teeth. I am calling Alise tonight.
Cooper glances down, catching the glow of the screen before I slide it back into my pocket. He doesn’t say anything, just lifts a brow and gives the smallest nod, like he knows exactly who I was looking at and why. No lecture, no teasing, only quiet understanding, and it lands heavier than words ever could.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Alise
The arena buzzes with energy, the electricity thick in the air like ozone before a storm. A low, rising thrum of voices and laughter, the sharp smell of popcorn and spilled beer, and the faint metallic chill of the ice, even from here in the concourse. There’s music pounding through the speakers, fans crowding the concourse in waves of Timberwolves green.
It’s game night at Timberwolves Arena, and not just any game night. It’s Cooper Hendrix’s last game as a player before taking over as the Timberwolves’ head coach. It’s a celebration, a farewell, and a full-circle moment years in the making. And everyone’s here for it, but underneath the excitement, something cold and tight twists inside me. It coils in the pit of my stomach and wraps around my ribs.
