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Chapter forty-four

Griffin

“ I ’ve been thinking about something,” Danae says. We’re sitting in the dark corner of the bar at Capital Grille, chatting with Jeff in between our moments focused solely on each other.

“You realize how much you would be freaking out if I started a sentence that way,” I tease. I’m rewarded with an adorable smirk that twists up half of her heart-shaped lips. I don’t even bother resisting the pull to lean in and kiss her.

Danae kisses me back but playfully pushes me away before we get too lost in each other. “Okay, okay, I need to say this before I chicken out,” she says, and that sobers me up. “Nothing’s wrong,” she adds in response to my furrowed brow.

I pull her hand to press a kiss to her fingers—nails grown out and polish fully intact—and ask, “What is it?”

She takes a breath and says, “I think we should do a media interview.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You think you want to interact with the media?”

Danae shakes her head slightly and smiles.

“I will never ever want to interact with the media. But like I told you that night after court—I’m committed to this.

To you. You—Griffin West, the Wizard of Defense, darling of Kansas City,” she says.

I pretend to wave to my fans, causing Danae to snort with laughter .

Her face turns serious before she continues.

“I understand that media attention comes with that territory, but I’d rather try to control the interaction as much as possible.

Your post-game interview after the first fiasco kept the press at bay for a while, but if the second hiccup was any indication, there could be an expiration date to that courtesy if we don’t feed them any kind of information.

So let’s schedule our own interview to give them the information that we want to share. ”

My chest aches with the love I feel for this woman. I reach up to cup Danae’s chin. “You sure about this?” When she nods, I brush a kiss to her cheek. “How many pages was the pro/con list?”

Her cheeks pinken, and she drops eye contact. “I mean . . . let’s just say it was lengthy.”

I skim a kiss along her jaw. “Were flowcharts involved?”

She hums as goosebumps break out along her arms. “There might have been.”

I trace her nose with mine. “Do I get to see them?”

“Not on your life,” she whispers before leaning her lips into mine.

“She’s still sure she wants to do this? Because I can totally call and make up an excuse to cancel,” Sam offers.

“We’re good to go,” I confidently respond as I swipe product through my hair. “I mean, she’s nervous, and there’s a one hundred percent chance that all of her clear nail polish will be picked off by the end. But we’re doing it.”

Sam was able to set up an exclusive interview with a local Kansas City lifestyle magazine in exchange for full rights to nix or approve anything in the article before it’s published.

She agreed that feeding the press a little information on our terms will go a long way in continuing the bubble of privacy they’ve given us.

Joe was elated that I was finally leaning into some media attention—until I told him we were doing the interview for free.

I’d rather have control over the narrative than a paycheck any day .

Washing the hair product residue off my hands, I eye Sam in the mirror. She’s lingering. In a weird, awkward manner.

“Uhhh, is there something else we need to talk about?” I ask, drying my hands on a towel.

Sam jerks up, pushing her hip away from where it was resting on the counter. “Oh, um, maybe? Or maybe not,” she says, avoiding eye contact. She rubs her right thumb over the tattoo on her left wrist.

Tossing the towel on the counter, I repeatedly poke Sam in the arm until she looks at me. My raised eyebrows are enough of a question.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Sam says, and the uncertain tone in her voice has my emotions swinging from one extreme to the other.

“Am I going to be leaving this conversation ready to go beat someone up? Because you’re going to need to cancel the interview if that’s the case,” I say.

“No, no, put away the protective older brother zeal,” she replies with a very Sam-like roll of her eyes. She tucks her hair behind her ear, finally giving me full eye contact. “I’m quitting.”

“Huh?”

“After this baseball season is over, I’m resigning as your personal assistant. I thought I should give you a little bit of a heads up in case you need to make other plans,” Sam says, standing up straighter.

“Okaaay,” I begin. “You’re allowed to quit. But why are you quitting? Are you not happy with the job anymore? Is this because of Danae? Because even though things are moving forward with Danae, I still want you around, sis.”

“It’s not that. I’ve really appreciated the space you gave me to leave the nest without crashing and burning on my own. And I have truly loved helping you with all the little things you can’t do for yourself,” she says, her signature smirk returning.

“Hey, now,” I retort, giving her a mild shove. “I’m perfectly capable of doing all the stuff you do.”

She raises an eyebrow.

I huff. “I didn’t say I want to do all that stuff, but I could do it if I needed to.”

“Just admit you’d be lost without me,” she says .

“How am I supposed to admit that when you just resigned?” I say, pointing a finger at her.

“Fair point,” she concedes. “But the real point is that as much as I’ve loved helping you for a season of time, I want to find my path, you know? Where I’m supposed to be, what I’m supposed to be doing with my life for the long haul.”

“I can understand that. Do you know what you’re going to do?” I ask.

Sam gets a bashful look on her face. “I haven’t for sure decided anything yet, but I’ve been researching cosmetology school.

I kinda like the idea of being a hair-stylist—getting to have a creative outlet but also an excuse to talk to people and ask questions all day. Do you think that’s a bad idea?”

The vulnerability on Sam’s face when she asks what I think cuts to my heart. I wrap my arms around her in a full hug. “I think you’d be amazing at that, Sam. It’s a great idea.”

She hugs me back for a long second before she speaks again. “For the record, I’m interested in styling women’s hair. You know, highlights, layers, et cetera, et cetera. I’m not touching your fade with a ten-foot pole.” She lightly smacks the back of my head before she pulls away, grinning.

“But think of all the PR opportunities—the Wizard’s sister giving the Wizard haircut to all of Kansas City’s youngsters. It’s genius,” I tease.

Sam smacks me again. “I’m forging my own path, thank you very much. But don’t worry—I’ll get you through the rest of the season first. After that, I’m leaving you to fend for yourself with Joe.”

“I can fend just fine, thank you very much,” I say, following Samantha out to the living room. “Especially after the interview today. Joe’s been practically salivating at all the positive press and wider media attention this is going to bring.”

“I’ll have the calendar ready to start scheduling all the new sponsorship requests,” Sam teases. “Kidding, not kidding.”

“How’d the interview go, man?” Adrian asks as he laces up his cleats.

“Awesome,” I say, tugging my jersey on over my head. “The lady asking questions was really laid-back, which helped Danae not freak out so much. She didn’t press when we purposely kept certain answers short.”

Drew messes up my hair as he walks by. “And the photo shoot? Was it heaven to have an excuse to act all lovey-dovey with Danae?”

I throw my mitt at him. “I don’t need an excuse to act lovey-dovey. You losing your charm after all these years married?”

“My charm game has only increased over time,” Drew replies, waggling his eyebrows. “As evidenced by the fact that Lily’s pregnant.”

“What? You serious?” I ask, and Adrian abruptly jumps to his feet yelling in Spanish.

Drew grins. “Dead serious. She’s about nine weeks along and beginning every morning in the bathroom throwing up.”

Adrian screws up his face. “I’d throw up every morning, too, if I had to look at your face first thing.” He breaks out in a grin and slaps Drew on the back. “ Felicidades , Sheffield.”

I give Drew a full-on hug. “That’s amazing, man. So happy for you. Do you think Lily will tell Danae and the other WAGs today?”

“That’s the plan,” he says. “Your little guy might have someone fighting him for the chicken tenders today. They’re one of Lily’s current food cravings that she can actually keep down.”

Your little guy . The phrase rolled off Drew’s tongue with such ease, and it feels like a favorite shirt that fits like a glove.

We need to get out on the field to warm up, but I pull my phone from my locker to shoot Danae a quick text.

ME

Tell Jason I love him. And I love you.

Can’t wait to see you after the game.

DANAE

kiss face emoji Love you too. Good luck today.