Page 9 of (La)Crosse My Heart (Sweet Sports Kisses #7)

Clark

W e’re at the mall and I’m wishing there was a camera in my face asking all the questions instead of enduring the endless lineup of clothing.

Okay, maybe that’s too far.

I’ve never been a great dresser, but I didn’t need to be when playing sports. Most of the time at school, I was coming from some training or lifting to get to my other classes, so it was easier to shower and throw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

“Favorite colors?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t it normal to have one favorite?”

“You won’t wear the same color every day for the rest of your life.”

“That’s true. Blue and orange.”

She wrinkles her nose a bit and says, “I don’t think that’s the best combination. Maybe separately?” I don’t realize she’s not talking to me until she turns around and walks into the mall.

I trail behind her, wondering what I’ve gotten myself into. But this will all be worth it, right? I need to keep reminding myself that, even when I’m in the changing room at the third store.

Coach Martin asking me to be team captain is a big deal, and maybe it’s vain to want to have that honor. But I feel like I’ve worked hard ever since I made it to the league, and I want to show him I’m up to the task. Now I need to get my fear under control so I can do this.

The hardest part about all of this is that I used to be pretty good at interviews. Then one idiot had to go ruin it.

Then I became a meme.

There’s a lot of mental toughness that goes into being an athlete, pushing through pain and working through slumps, but this is one mental block that’s almost impenetrable.

Jessa is good at talking to the employees of the stores, only addressing me when I need to try on something else. Have I ever done a fashion show before? No. While this one doesn’t quite feel like that, I can’t imagine what it’s like to be someone who has to change clothes multiple times a day.

Don’t get me wrong, I change my clothes, but having a set outfit for different times of the day isn’t my goal.

It feels like we’ve been inside for four days by the time we walk out. I breathe in the air aggressively, trying to tease Jessa about our time in the mall.

“We survived,” I say, bending over and walking like I suddenly have a limp.

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad. We were only in there for two hours. That’s probably a record.” She keeps walking, putting space between us.

I look down at the bags in my arms and while I don’t want to agree with her and give her ego an enormous boost, getting this many things in such a short time didn’t seem possible before.

“There are so many things in these bags, I’m not sure I’ll know what to wear and when,” I joke.

She blows out a breath and says, “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I live so close to you right now.”

I grin and say, “So you’re going to come dress me every morning?”

“Ew, no. But I can give suggestions. Now that we have some adequate stuff to work with. We haven’t made it to a suit shop yet, though. We’ll have to find a time to fit that in.”

The nice thing about doing a shopping spree is that I’m not super worried about money at the moment. But I’ll have to be careful so I don’t overspend before I get everything fixed with the endorsement deals I’ve got.

“What’s next?” I ask, curious. Maybe it’s self-preservation so I can prep myself for what’s coming.

“We’ll have to do some mock interviews.”

I widen my eyes and groan.

“We won’t do that today. I’m sure you’re tired from shopping and need to get ready for practice. So we’ll do that tomorrow. Then I’d love to get a photo shoot with you.”

“You and me?” I ask, grinning as I point from her to me.

Her eyes go wide before she rolls them.

“No, Clark. For your social media. Has the club ever had a photographer or someone to run their social media?” She opens the door to her car, and I wait to answer until I get in.

I start to shake my head and then say, “Well, kind of. The last owner let his granddaughter do it. But her idea of what would be good to post wasn’t based on how many others saw it.”

Jessa nods. “I can tell that from the few posts she put up. What happened to her?”

Shrugging, I say, “I think she just gave up and they never replaced her. There was a lot of weird stuff with those other owners. It’s been a night and day difference with Stockton.”

“But if they’ve owned you for the last few months, you’d think they would’ve filled the positions necessary to help their marketing.”

“What if things were so bad in the main office they’re still trying to put things right?” After meeting the last owners, I can imagine it’s a pretty tangled mess when it comes to official documents for the teams.

She doesn’t say anything for a few moments. “Yeah, I didn’t think about it like that. I’ll just have to find someone to do your photo shoot then.”

Now is when I cringe. “Can’t we hold off on that until after I work with the gear companies?”

She blinks a few times and says, “What gear companies?”

“I’m sponsored by STX and Warrior. I’m also supposed to meet with Gatorade to negotiate a contract.”

Nodding, she says, “That would’ve been good information to know yesterday. Do you have a time when you’ll be back working with them?”

“Well, I flew to Chicago last weekend and tried countless takes, only to run out of time before they got anything usable. So they might need some time to recover before they fly me out there again.”

She nods, tapping her chin with a pen. “Okay, if you’ll give me their information, I’ll take care of that.”

“That’s what my agent is for, Jessa.”

“Oh, yeah. Duh. Okay, send me your agent’s information so I can coordinate with them. Have they done nothing to help you with this?”

I mentally go through the many meetings I’ve had over the past few seasons and while I’m grateful to my agent for helping me get a contract with the Lancers, he hasn’t done a lot since then.

I’m the one who had to reach out to the sponsoring companies with my stats and information, just to make sure my name was getting out there. The goal is to set up things for the future, and it won’t happen on a player’s salary.

“You know what? Maybe you should be the one negotiating with the companies.”

Jessa raises an eyebrow and says, “Are you sure? I don’t want to step on toes.”

“To be honest, I think it’s about time we parted ways. My agent hasn’t done a lot to help me in the past year.”

She nods. “Okay, send me whatever information you need me to know. I can schedule things and get the ball rolling to finish out your media obligations. Well, until the games start, anyway.”

I smile, grateful she’s here and willing to go all in. Maybe I should’ve found someone like her a lot sooner. But when I was only focused on the four to five months of lacrosse and trying to survive on a different career’s income, it was harder to make the switch or take the time to do that.

She drives us back to the house. I’m determined to get everything inside in one trip, so I loop all the bags over my wrist and walk as quickly as I can across the street.

“Make sure you hang everything up. I don’t want to see it on the floor with wrinkles when you need to wear it.”

I laugh and call out over my shoulder, “Okay, Mom.”

I might not be able to see her face, but I can definitely feel the invisible daggers she’s shooting at me.

This might not be the worst arrangement I’ve ever had.