Page 31 of Yo Ho Ho
"It's 10 dollars a number, but you can choose more than one."
"Don't waste your time though. I picked the winning number this year," Bob told her.
Max looked over Charlie's shoulder at the piece of paper he was writing on, a big "Players in Sunglasses" title in all capital letters on top. For some reason, the team always tried to plan their Ugly Christmas Sweater Party the night before a flight so they could get some extra sleep on the plane to get rid of their hangovers. So a few years ago, the media guys — who were never invited to the team's party anyway — started taking bets on how many players would be wearing sunglasses to shield their hungover eyes before the plane took off. Max always picked 13 because the media guys were superstitious and wouldn't claim it. She was hoping this would be her year.
She pulled her wallet out of her backpack, prepared with several denominations of cash. Depending on how Charlie was feeling each year, it could be five bucks per number or 20 bucks for a block of them. Better to have a little bit of everything just in case.
"I'm picking 13 again," she said as she handed over some money to Charlie.
Bob groaned from his seat. "Every year, Maxine. Nothing original."
She just shrugged and smiled, watching as Charlie coordinated the bets and took everyone's information down.
"Wheels up in five, everyone!" announced someone from the Pirates' personnel.
That was their cue to start heading out. Charlie scooped up the cash into an envelope, stuffing his bet sheet in with it. The crew grabbed their bags and headed out, following two hungover-looking players out the door.
"Hey, Max."
She turned to see Jake lugging his suitcase in one hand and his camera case in the other.
"Need some help?"
"I'm good."
He left his suitcase in the pile of luggage being checked for the flight. He could buy new clothes in a new city if he had to. The camera was valuable and always came with him. As they headed up the stairs together, he leaned in closer to her.
"Listen, I talked to a few of our producers at the station," he said quietly. "I really tried to work on them, but we're in a hiring freeze so I don't think we have an opening for you."
Max gave him a tight smile. "It's OK. You didn't need to do that, but I really appreciate it."
Jake gave her a small tap on her back. "We all wish we could fix this for you."
"It's the industry, right?"
"Yeah."
They stopped at the top of the stairs leading into the plane. "But seriously, Jake. Thanks for checking on that for me."
Jake quietly nodded and followed her in. Most of the players had already taken their seats. They may have been hungover, but they weren't going to risk missing the flight. She mentally took a note of how many pairs of sunglasses she saw as she walked through, hoping it would give her a better idea if she made a good bet this year. Some of the players still had their sweaters on from the night before. Alex, for example, was already passed out, mouth gaping open, sunglasses on, and "Jingle my balls" proudly displayed on his green and white sweater. Max figured he had probably slept in the same clothes he wore to the party.
Next to him was Logan who seemed to be brighter eyed and reading something. He looked up at her, just a quick glance before his eyes turned away and back to what was sitting in front of him. She took a deep breath and tried to suppress whatever she wanted to say or however she wanted to feel about him this morning. It would just be better that way.
But as she walked by, she saw what he was reading: The sports section of theDetroit Heraldwith her story on the cover.
Max turned quickly to stare ahead as she continued her trek down the aisle of the plane. She put a lot of effort into making that story great and making Logan look like a nice player that kids looked up to. So what if he was a condescending jerk? She was still a professional who wrote honest stories, and she would do that until they took her computer away from her.
In two weeks.
She hated having an expiration date on her job.
The media guys settled into their seats in the back with only Charlie missing. Max took a quick glance to see him flirting with the flight attendant up front. This was what he did every year as his cover for counting sunglasses on players right until the door closed. In all these years, the players had never figured out that the media guys made this bet. It was better to keep it a secret so the team wouldn't try to throw the bets one way or another.
There was the little sound of a ding before the flight attendant announced that the door to the plane had been closed. "Please take your seats. We'll be taxiing shortly."
The guys all settled in, waiting for Charlie to come back with his verdict. It didn't take long before the blogger began to walk down the aisle, envelope of cash in hand. He turned to make sure none of the players were paying attention to the guys in the back. Then he held up the envelope and smiled.
"This year, there are 13 players wearing sunglasses," he said quietly. "Our winner is Max."
