Page 30

Harper

“This is where you normally sit?” Denise asked me as we settled into my usual seat right behind the dugout. My camera crew was getting situated behind us, fiddling with their equipment.

“This is it,” I told her as I pulled my notepad out. “Away games differ depending on where that team has their media sitting.”

Denise was wearing Jamil’s jersey and had already stopped at the concession stand to order a hotdog, nachos, and one of those margaritas they put in a souvenir glass.

She’d offered to get me one and if I hadn’t been working, I would have taken her up on it.

It was obvious from the moment Denise walked into the stadium where Jamil got his personality from.

She greeted nearly every person that made eye contact with her, a wide smile on her face the entire time.

When she showed up to the stadium I tried to gauge how she was feeling. She had mentioned she wanted to see Jordan and would have gone earlier this afternoon. The question was if she had gone and how had it gone.

But it wasn’t my place to ask, no matter how badly I wanted to know the answer. For the sake of considering if it was worthy of writing a piece on, I’d find the information out a different way.

“And you just watch the game and take notes about what you see for interviews later?”

I nodded my head. “We do interviews during warmups too, which I’ll go do in a minute. But that sums it up on a basic level.”

Denise took a sip of her margarita, the same look in her eye that Jamil got when he was about to say something cheeky. “You haven’t interviewed Jamil much yet, I don’t think. Or at least not that I can remember. Only once, yes?”

“Just once so far this season,” I confirmed, not missing the quirk of Denise’s eyebrow.

She looked like a cat who’d cornered a mouse as she waited for me to respond. After backing me into a corner with nearly nowhere to go, the only option I had was to either tell the truth or fabricate a lie that Denise would see right through.

I decided to play it safe and avoid telling her the complete truth—that I was too afraid to interview her son, because the one time that I had the chemistry was so obvious between us that the entire world had taken notice. Something I was sure she was aware of.

“I think Jamil has appreciated me giving his other teammates the spotlight this season.”

Denise leaned back in her seat, her lips screwing to the side.

“Jamil has had a tumultuous past few years. This last year should have been one of celebration for him, but it seems it’s only brought him more stress than it should have.

” She reached up to run her fingers over her necklace with four different stones on it.

Before I could figure out how to ask her what she meant, the crowd roared to life as the Cougars ran out onto the field for their warmups.

I caught sight of Jamil finding the two of us in the crowd, the widest smile on his face.

“He deserves to be happy,” I told her, unable to tear my eyes away from him as he went to play catch with Tommy.

“I miss seeing him look this free,” Denise whispered more to herself than to me.

Her eyes tracked Jamil as well, and I could feel the pride she had for all her son had accomplished edged with a sadness that was bone deep.

“He and his brother both have carried so much sadness these past few years. I just want them both to find some peace.”

This much I’d gathered already, but it was how Jordan fell apart that I was still in the dark on.

The how I knew was connected to that night in the hotel in Seattle with Jamil yelling into his phone or the nervousness whenever a text from Jordan came through with me around.

I was beginning to wonder if Jamil’s hesitation of being in the limelight was due to trying to keep any extra prying eyes away from his brother, protecting him no matter what.

Denise didn’t move to expand on what she’d said, leaving me with more questions than answers.

“Harper!” I glanced up to see my boss, Terry Wilson, looming over me.

“Mr. Wilson.” I’d never stood up out of my seat faster, nearly tumbling down the steps in the process. “You’re in Chicago?”

Terry typed away on his phone, which was always glued to his hand for the constant stream of calls and texts that came in.

“I’m here for some business for the network.

I had some meetings today, but I thought I’d stop by the game once I was done to see how you were doing.

I also wanted to check in on how that story is going. ”

The blood drained from my face as I rushed to stop him from saying anything further in front of Denise. “Terry, this is Jamil Edman’s mother, Denise. Denise, this is my boss, Terry Wilson.”

Terry gave me a curious look before he reached out to offer his hand to Jamil’s mother. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Edman. You have a very talented son. He seems to be all the media wants to focus on nowadays.”

Denise, still completely oblivious to the way I was nervously glancing between her and Terry, grasped my boss’s hand. “I try to take as little credit as I can for his success. He earned that all on his own. I’m just lucky enough to claim him as my son.”

“We’re actually hoping to feature him on our network by the end of the season,” Terry continued, and I wanted nothing more than to disappear as Denise looked at me with surprise. “Harper is going to cover a story on him.”

“Is she?” Denise’s gaze felt like it was looking straight into my head and seeing exactly what kind of story Terry wanted me to cover. “Between the charity work that Jamil does and his success on the field, there is plenty to highlight.”

Terry reached over to clasp me on the shoulder, jostling me in the process and nearly sending me down the stadium stairs for a second time. “Harper has been gathering as much information as she can to do the story justice.”

I startled once more when I felt Denise’s hand wrap around my arm. “I know she will.”

Another phone call came in for Terry, taking his attention away from me and Jamil’s mother. “I’ll talk to you soon, Harper. Hopefully about this story on Jamil so we can also discuss other business matters, along the lines of that promotion?”

Without another word, Terry walked back up the stadium stairs, his suit standing out in a sea of blue and gold memorabilia.

I used to think that suit was a sign of success.

But now as I watched it disappear into the crowd, it reminded me of a snake looking for the perfect moment to strike.

This exchange felt more like a predator toying with its prey than a boss checking in on their employee.

I was caught in the middle of a dream I’d had for years and a desire that had only just started to bloom over the past month.

“Harper, we may not have enough time for a pregame interview,” my camera guy leaned forward to inform me.

I waved him off. “We will just do two postgame interviews then. Let’s settle in for the game.”

Denise offered me some of her nachos as I slid back into my seat. “Promotion?” she asked.

My heart was nearly in my throat as I debated on what to say to her. Her eyes were sharp, and I was certain she hadn’t missed a single moment of my exchange with Terry.

“I’ve been hoping for a job as a host for the network,” I told Denise. Her warm gaze made it nearly impossible for me to keep anything from her. “The traveling life has taken a toll on me.”

The crowd roared as the Cougars ran to take the field. Denise curved her hands around her mouth and yelled out Jamil’s name before clapping enthusiastically for the team.

“Life on the road is difficult, no matter if you have to bear it alone or if you have someone at home waiting for you.” Denise settled back in her chair. “Would you have to move for that job?”

“It would be in New York City,” I told her, not missing the intent behind Denise’s pointed question.

“And that would be at the end of this season?” Denise kept her gaze forward as she watched Tommy turn a double play to end the top of the first inning.

“That is what I’m hoping for.” The ultimatum my mother gave me before I moved to Chicago rang in my mind.

If I didn’t succeed in getting that promotion, I would very well be stuck back in Washington DC in a life that I didn’t want.

“I have a lot riding on making sure it happens this year. I’m not sure I’ll be here next season either way. ”

Jamil walked up to the plate to lead off the Cougars’ lineup. The crowd went wild at a simple tip of his helmet. His megawatt smile was visible from nearly every corner of the stadium as he settled into the box to await the first pitch.

“I have a good feeling about this game,” Denise whispered as she watched the pitcher wind up.

Call it mother’s intuition—a crack sounded as Jamil made contact with the ball and sent it flying in the opposite direction. The first pitch to the Cougars, to Jamil, ended up over the right field fence.

“How did you know?” We both jumped to our feet as we cheered on Jamil. As he rounded third base, he looked up to the two of us. He raised a finger to point in our direction and I had to remind myself that his mother was standing next to me. That couldn’t possibly have been for me.

“I can see it in his step today. There’s something lighter about him. I noticed it this morning when you two came out for breakfast.”

I coughed and glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone had heard her.

My cameraman, Neil, was too busy trying not to make eye contact with me for me to believe he hadn’t heard Denise.

Luckily no one else appeared to have caught it.

I enjoyed being the one in control of the spotlight and deciding who to direct it to.

The last thing I wanted was the spotlight to be on me.