Page 17

Harper

Ding.

“I need to turn this thing off,” I muttered as I fiddled with my phone. It had gone off throughout the entire game today with notifications from people tagging me on various social media platforms and text messages from contacts I hadn’t spoken to in the industry in years congratulating me.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

SC News had posted my interview from a few days ago—now completely edited and apparently getting picked up by multiple other news outlets.

It had gone global as people discussed this different side of Derek Allen that they’d never seen before.

With so much speculation over what the Chicago Bobcats would look like this season without their veteran quarterback returning, this interview provided some insight to fans and analysts on what was happening with the leaders in the locker room.

The number of notifications that were flooding my phone was proof of the hunger for a story like this one.

A giddy warmth had pooled in my stomach when I first woke up and I saw the interview on my television with nearly everyone talking about it. This was what I had been waiting for—when my work was finally recognized after all the years of sacrifice and determination.

Ding.

This time an email from my boss popped across the top of my phone.

My fingers froze with hesitation for only a moment before I clicked into it.

It took me nearly three read-throughs before the praise over my interview finally sunk in.

The only drop of disappointment I had was when I read the final line and realized that this interview still wasn’t enough.

Keep up the hard work. This interview is just the start.

The network really liked the expansion to the Chicago Bobcats during the off-season.

It was a risky decision .?.?. but it paid off.

Any insight into a story on Jamil Edman?

We want something more than just typical interview questions after a game. We really want to get to know him.

“Just the start?” I whispered, realizing that the four years of sacrifice and doing what I was asked was not realized in his eyes.

All the times I took on something else voluntarily didn’t matter.

Only after bringing this kind of success to the company did it matter.

Suddenly I no longer wanted to look through any more notifications I was tagged in, the triumph I had been celebrating now spoiled.

What else do you want me to do?

Not to mention the stark reminder of what I expected of me this season. The network wanted an inside scoop on Jamil and dread filled me at the thought of writing anything that could put him in a bad light. If I didn’t write something like that, would that mean my job was on the line?

To make matters worse, a text from my mother came in.

Maria: You would have made a great politician. Great interview.

It was the closest I was ever going to come to a compliment from my mother.

With a sigh, I tossed my phone into my bag to avoid looking at it for the rest of the day.

The stadium was still emptying out. Workers were walking through the aisles cleaning up the trash that was left behind and the players were long gone.

My crew had left a half hour ago, but I had stayed after my final interviews of the night to finish typing up my notes on the series.

“Why does someone who should be on top of the world look so downcast?” I glanced up to see Jamil standing next to me, dressed in a pair of workout shorts and a sweatshirt.

“You changed fast,” I noted as I closed my laptop and shoved it into my bag with my phone.

“I love early afternoon games because the night is still young. I can still do something rather than dedicating the entire day to baseball and I’m wanting to do something with you.”

Jamil and I hadn’t had the chance to speak since the day of the interview with Derek.

Between him playing and my job, we were only able to share a few smiles and waves—which only made me miss being around him more.

I wanted to tell myself it was because he was one of the few people that I knew here, but it was more than that. I enjoyed being around him.

“I could use a bit of a distraction today,” I told him as I stood up and slipped my bag onto my shoulder.

“And why would that be?” Jamil reached out and took my bag off my shoulder to throw it over his own. “Like I said, you should be on top of the world right now.”

“My boss congratulated me on the interview,” I said as we climbed the stairs of the stadium.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“I guess it’s because I was expecting a big interview like this to launch me into a new stratosphere. Like he would have offered me a promotion on the spot after realizing my talent.”

We walked down the tunnel that led to the player parking lot. “You shouldn’t let that dim this accomplishment,” Jamil told me with deep sincerity that made my heart squeeze. “Plus, you aren’t done yet. You got their attention and now they’re watching. Show them what you really can do.”

No matter how many times Jamil supported and encouraged me, it always took me by surprise. I’d never had someone support my interests the way he had—not even my parents.

“So instead of a night of distraction, I personally think tonight should be one full of celebration.” We stopped in front of the passenger door of Jamil’s car.

He opened it for me, motioning for me to get in before handing me my bag.

There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he smiled at me.

“Because I’ll be damned if you don’t celebrate being the center of conversation on every sports network channel on television. ”

I hesitated. Every smile he gave me and every minute we spent together was distracting me from my goal. Hello? Rule number four! But my ability to resist his smile was non-existent. “Okay. What do you have in mind?”

“I’m going to take you to the best restaurant in the city,” he told me as he pulled out of the parking lot. “You’re going to love it. You don’t mind a few extra people though, do you?”

*

Turned out the best restaurant in town was Jamil Edman’s kitchen and a few extra people really meant a small party. The moment we pulled into a driveway that already had five other cars in it, I narrowed my eyes at Jamil.

“Did you plan something for me?” I asked him, already knowing my answer from how pleased he looked with himself.

“My mom always said you should celebrate your success with all of those that care about you, and I realized that you’ve had to uproot your life so you can’t really do that.

But every person in there wants to celebrate you , so I feel like it’s a close second to celebrating with your friends and family from back home. ”

My throat constricted as I fought the emotions fighting to break free.

I didn’t want to tell him that a celebration back in Washington DC would have consisted of going to a local wine bar I loved by myself, so this was already more than I would have ever expected.

My heart squeezing in my chest reminded me how out of my depth I was.

I’d sworn off men to focus on me. But now I was beginning to realize I might have done myself a disservice thinking that opening myself up wouldn’t allow me to fully reach my potential in my career because from where I was currently sitting, having a support system felt really good.

We got out of the car together and walked up to his front door.

Jamil lived in one of the more affluent suburbs of Chicago.

The kind that had long driveways, perfectly manicured lawns, and expensive cars sitting out front.

His house was large with five bedrooms and three bathrooms. Even more surprising were the textured rugs on the floor that provided contrast to the furniture, tasteful artwork on the walls that added pops of colors, and pictures of Jamil with who I assumed were his family from the striking resemblance.

Worn books lined shelves on either side of a fireplace.

Everywhere I looked, I saw more pieces of Jamil that made up the greater picture.

This wasn’t just a house. This was a home. It was a sanctuary.

Tonight, that home was full of life as Jamil and I walked inside.

Olivia and Derek were the first people to realize that we’d made it and let out a cheer that was soon amplified when the rest of the group joined in.

Everyone I’d met was here—Maggie and Tommy, Olivia and Derek, and Nolan Hill.

And there were people I recognized that I hadn’t met yet.

Tears threatened to spill out as I watched people I barely knew, and people that I didn’t, be so excited for me. It made the struggle I’d endured thus far feel worth it, only because I had others to celebrate overcoming my struggles with now.

“Are you surprised?” Olivia asked as she and Maggie came over, with Olivia’s sister, Lottie, in tow.

“Definitely wasn’t expecting any of this,” I told her as I took in the room full of small children running around and people laughing while enjoying good company. It felt like a family gathering—something completely foreign to me.

“Jamil got this all together last minute before the game today,” Maggie told me, her innocence completely missing the implications of what she just divulged. Olivia’s eyes gleamed as she watched me glance over to where Jamil was conversing with the Chicago Bobcats players.

My head couldn’t sort through how I was feeling as I watched him laugh at something Derek had just said. I was beginning to pick his laugh out in a group of people, the sound hitting my ears like a favorite song.

“He was so determined to help you with the interview,” Olivia said as she sipped on her beer. “Now I see why. It was one of the best I’ve seen in a long time.”

“You should be proud of yourself,” Lottie finally spoke up. “I’ve never seen Derek that comfortable in an interview. He normally uses humor as a defense mechanism without giving the interviewer any real substance.”

“It’s nice to officially meet you.” I stuck my hand out for her to shake. We had been in the same vicinity in the few games I covered of the Chicago Bobcats last season but had never formally met. “Your resume is quite impressive. Especially with what you did with Nolan Hill last season.”

Lottie gave me a small shrug. “He just needed someone to push him and stop coddling him.”

The Chicago Bobcats had claimed their newfound relationship as their own and considered Lottie as the secret ingredient that helped them win their last Super Bowl.

Nolan and Jamil migrated to the kitchen together to begin preparing the meal for tonight. Jamil had turned his hat backward and was reaching for an apron when I excused myself from the group of girls.

“Can I help you?” I asked Jamil as I rounded the counter over to where he was cutting up an onion. The muscles in his hands and forearms flexed with each precise cut he made. His movements were just as sure and full of confidence as they were on the baseball field.

“If you want, you can assemble the kebabs,” he offered as he dumped the onions into their own bowl before starting to cut up some peppers.

“Harper,” Nolan cut in as I began sliding the meat and peppers onto the kebab sticks. “Can I just tell you that I loved your interview.”

The last time we had spoken to each other had been after his Super Bowl win.

When the network had asked me to cover that game, I was certain more opportunities would come my way.

In the sports industry, getting to cover as big an event as that was a career highlight.

But I was once again disappointed when I was still assigned to the DC Capitols come this season.

“It’s nice to talk to you outside of the football field,” I told him. “And thank you. Derek made it easy.”

Nolan scoffed. “Derek doesn’t make anything easy. Don’t discredit your own talent.”

I looked over to where Derek was sitting with Hawthorne Smith’s girls as they dressed him up in a fake tiara and earrings from the game they were playing. “I think Derek is realizing the role he is about to step into,” I told Nolan. “He knows the shoes he has to fill.”

Nolan studied me for a moment, his eyes darting between me and Jamil before he nodded toward the kebabs I put together. “Are those ready for the grill? I’ll take them.”

Then we were alone in his kitchen, as Jamil began cleaning up.

“Thank you for doing this,” I told him, as I put everything we’d used to prepare the food into his dishwasher. “This is one of the nicest things someone has done for me in a long time.”

Jamil looked at me, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. “If this is one of the nicest things someone has done for you in a long time, Harper, then you haven’t been around people that value you.”

I swallowed hard. Jamil didn’t realize how close to the mark he’d just hit.

Between my parents’ disapproval of my job and the lack of friendship in my life, there was nobody else who cared about me in that way.

All the text messages I got full of congratulations today from peers in the industry were social climbers trying to position themselves with others that were currently in the spotlight.

“And you value me?”

Jamil dried his hands off on a towel as he stared at me. “I don’t make a habit of ignoring the blessings life puts in my path.”

My lips parted.

“Dinner is ready!” Nolan called from out on the patio where the grill was.

“Come on, Harper.” Jamil inclined his head toward the door. “Let’s go eat.”

I barely registered the hand that gently pressed on my lower back, encouraging me to start walking. My mind was still wrapped up in the mess of emotions, tangled like a ball of yarn.

Only one question persisted.

Did I like Jamil Edman?

What was even more confusing was how sure I was of the answer.