Page 131 of The Defender

“First Vincent’s birthday, now the pub? You’ve turned into a social butterfly,” Scarlett teased.

Noah nodded at Vincent. “Blame your brother. He’s aced the art of the guilt trip.”

“I don’t guilt anyone into anything. Ipersuade,” Vincent corrected him. “Evie’s with her grandparents until this weekend, right? So enjoy a night out before she gets back. You need to relax before you keel over from stress, and it would suck to have to replace our star keeper in the middle of the season.”

Noah’s mouth quirked. “I appreciate the concern.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you relax.” Scarlett patted him on the shoulder. “Maybe we’ll even find a nice girl for you to dance with.”

His half-smile morphed into a grimace. “Please don’t.”

I glanced at Carina, who hadn’t looked up from her phone since he sat down.Interesting.

When I’d asked what was up with her and Noah after Budapest, she said she had no idea what I was talking about and that they barely knew each other. I suspected she was hiding something from me, but I’d dig into that when we were alone.

Until then, I had some news I’d been dying to share.

“No one asked, but since we’re all here, I have a job-related update,” I announced, trying to keep the giddiness out of my voice. “Do you know who Derek Moore is?”

Just saying the name made my heart race—not because I was attracted to him but because he represented the potential next level in my career.

“The surfer?” Asher’s eyebrows rose. “Twelve-time world champion, often regarded as the greatest professional surfer in history.ThatDerek Moore?”

I nodded, my stomach swooping with nerves and excitement. When I emailed my former career counselor back in December, I’d kept my expectations low. However, she’d finally emailed me back yesterday with a lead, and I’d done a double take when I saw what it was. I had to triple confirm it wastheDerek Moore before I believed it.

“He’s an alumnus of my school,” I said. “He reached out to the dean because he’s looking for a new nutritionist for his daughter. She’s a gymnast, not a surfer, but she’s hoping to make it to nationals this year and her old nutritionist wasn’t working out.” Derek was a legend, but his daughter Haley was a rising star in the women’s gymnastics world. Commentators were already speculating about her chances at the Olympics in a few years. “He wanted to prioritize candidates from his alma mater this time around, which is how I landed an interview with them next week. It’s a remote position, but it pays well and comes with full benefits.”

Vincent already knew, but everyone else broke out into cheers and congratulations.

“That’s amazing!” Carina cried, hugging me.

“The Moores would be lucky to have you,” Scarlett added, her eyes shining.

“Thanks.” I didn’t bother hiding my grin.

I was excited about more than the Moores’ high profile. Working for them would open a lot of doors career-wise, but when I read the job description, something justclicked. I’d always worked with sports teams and never with an individual. Vincent had asked if I was interested in being his personal nutritionist, but there were too many conflicts of interest, and I didn’t want to dilute our relationship with work again.

But the more I thought about it, the more one-on-one work made sense for me. Obviously, it would depend on the employer, but overall, an individual would offer greater flexibility than a team. I’d miss the group camaraderie, but I wanted creative freedom more.

I was about to ask if anyone wanted another round of drinks when I spotted a familiar face in the crowd. I nudged Vincent. “Um, isn’t that Lloyd?”

Slicked-back hair, expensive watch. Yep, that was definitely him.

His agent barreled toward us, elbowing people out of the way and leaving a string of colorful curses in his wake. He was the only one here not dressed in Blackcastle gear, but I wasn’t surprised. I bet he slept in his Delamonte suits.

“Lloyd?” Vincent’s eyebrows shot up when he reached our table. “What are you doing here? I thought pubs weren’t your scene.”

“They’re not.” Lloyd sniffed. “But I was having dinner nearby with Sandra, the Zenith exec. She wanted to go over your test shots with me.”

The table quieted. Vincent stiffened, and I took his hand under the table in silent support.

Vincent had his Zenith test shoot last week, only a day after returning from San Diego. I was shocked they had the final results already.

“They fast-tracked everything so they could review the images as soon as possible,” Lloyd said, answering my silent question. “Sandra and the rest of the exec team werethrilledwith how yours came out. They said you, quote, ‘really embodied the spirit of Zenith.’” A wide grin split his face. “You got it.”

Vincent stared at him. “What?”

“The Zenith deal.” Lloyd grabbed his shoulders. “You got the bloody Zenith deal! You’re their new global men’s ambassador!”