Page 5 of The Long Game

“Odd situations call for odd solutions,” I countered. “But I was briefed. I was given a location, a contact, and the name of the team. The problem is that I didn’t have time to research.” Not when I was left with twenty-four hours to get Kelly up to speed before catching my flight. A wave of exhaustion hit me, making me suppress a yawn.“I barely had time to pack.” Or sleep. “Luckily, I know someone who’s good at research and works well on a time crunch because journalism is his job and passion.”

“Career perks,” my best friend muttered, his voice dripping with something I didn’t understand. I frowned, but he continued before I could ask. “And I’ll help you, if you let me tell you what I really think first.”

“I forgot about that career perk,” I deadpanned.

“What I think,” he announced, ignoring my comment, “is that banishing your own daughter over such an idiotic thing is overreacting.”

“Please,” I said with a breath. “Don’t mince your words.”

“I was mincing my words. What I actually believe is that your dad is being a little bitch.”

The tension pulling at my shoulders doubled.

Matthew had never liked my father, just like my father had never liked him. I didn’t blame either of them. They were as different as… chalk and cheese. Day and night. Water and oil. Just like Matthew and I were. The man was outspoken, rowdy, and charming, whereas I—and my father for that matter—was measured, critical, and way too pragmatic to go around life joking about everything like Matthew did. Laughs and giggles didn’t bring in results. Not in my world, at least.

It had always been a wonder how we were even friends. To me, at least. Not to my best friend. He’d been very clear about his intentions since we first crossed paths years ago in the line at Doña Clarita’s Sandwich Shop.

He’d tried to hit on me and I’d looked him up and down before genuinely asking him if he was high. His reaction was raucous laughter, then anI like you. You’ll keep me on my toes.

We somehow became inseparable after that day.

“My father has a point,” I told him. “There’s a mortifying video of me grunting and growling while I rip the head off the mascot of the team I work for.”

“It’s funny. And the world is vicious right now. People are seeingthemselves in you. They’re relating to that show of female rage.” Not the female rage again. “If anything, it’s empowering. Definitely not embarrassing.”

Embarrassing.

You’re better than asking for special treatment after embarrassing me and the whole club.

I swallowed, ignoring the way my stomach dropped at the memory of my father’s words. “I think you know better than to try to sugarcoat this for me.”

“I’ve seen worse things online, Addy. So you had a brawl—”

“It wasn’t a brawl,” I interjected, eyeing the maps app on my phone with a frown. “And don’t call me Addy,Matty. You know nicknames make me feel like a child.” It didn’t matter if they came from my ex or my best friend. I simply hated being called anything but Adalyn.

“Fine,” he relented, ignoring my tone. “So it wasn’t a brawl. You had an altercation—”

“A scuffle at most.”

“So you had a scuffle—at most—with Sparkles, then some idiot posted the clip on some app and now Gen Z’s is all over it, so what? Everyone wants to be liked by zoomers. It’s where the money is. You’re probably their favorite millennial.”

“I’m technically on the boundary. So in any case, I’m a zillennial, not a millennial.” I checked my phone again, wondering why the road was meandering and the greenery thickening on both sides. I hadn’t expected to climb so high, either. “Regardless, the video had close to eight million views earlier today. And when I checked with my assistant, she told me that paps were at the Flames’ facilities today. Paps. Like I’m some… I don’t know, some celebrity whose sex tape leaked in the mid-2000s.”

“And look at how that turned out for Kim Kardashian. Now she has a fortune, a brand, a questionable trail of exes, and soon a law degree.”

“Matthew,” I warned with an exhale. “I’m not going to discuss why you think the Kardashians are the best thing to happen to thetwenty-first century—again. Not only have I no interest in becoming one of them, but you only are obsessed because they have…” I trailed off. “You know, big booties.”

“I also value their entrepreneurial abilities,” he countered with a theatrical gasp. “And being an ass man is not a crime. Anyway, listen. The paps were probably just trying to catch Williams or Perez walking into practice. I’m pretty sure your assistant was blowing it out of proportion because David told her to. He’s been your father’s minion ever since he was hired for a job you’d be a million times better at. But that’s Andrew for you. A little b—”

“You’ve been in Chicago for too long,” I interjected. And ironically, it turned out David had never been my father’s minion. Instead—I stopped myself. “I can’t remember the last time a Flames player got that kind of attention.” I heard the squeak of leather and glanced down. My fingers were white, gripping the steering wheel a little too tight. I released a breath. “My father is doing me a favor by giving me a chance to fix this. A way to redeem myself.”

We were in silence for a long moment, and when Matthew spoke, his voice was serious. Careful. I didn’t like it. “I know you have no problem standing your ground, but… this whole thing with Sparkles is not you.” My stomach dropped. “Did something happen? Something that pushed you to… this?”

This. That overwhelming pressure that had been on and off ever since those horrible moments before I launched myself at Sparkles returned to my chest. But once again, I didn’t feel ready to talk about what had preceded my outburst. All kinds of emotions clogged my vocal cords.

Seconds ticked by slowly until I cleared my throat. “If I had known you were going to start checking on my feelings, I would have dedicated this time to something else. Like a podcast. You know how much I love to drive to a deep voice recounting a complex and gruesome murder.”

“I’m being serious,” he said softly. Too softly. So much that it made that weight in my chest shift.

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