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“Or my playground,” I add, smirking.
“Even better,” Wayne laughs. “Now go, don’t keep your hot date waiting. We’ll talk details soon.”
We part ways, and as I step back out into the bustling city, I feel like I’m on the brink of something monumental.
I have a dinner date I don’t want to miss, and as I head toward the restaurant, I can’t shake the feeling that tonight could be a turning point in more ways than one.
* * *
Sliding into the leather booth across from Emma, I’m still riding high. I can’t wait to see her reaction when I give her the good news.
“You’re in an awfully chipper mood this evening,” Emma says, one eyebrow arched. “Good interview today?”
“Oh yes, it was fine, but even better, I just had a meeting with Pulse Athletic. You know, that huge athletic wear company?” I quickly lay out the details of the sponsorship offer, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice.
But instead of matching my enthusiasm, Emma bites her lip, looking uncertain. “That’s quite an opportunity, Xavier. But have you thought about their business practices at all? Companies like Pulse Athletic are notorious for cutting corners with ethics and sustainability.”
I hesitate. To be honest, I’ve been so focused on the dollar figures, I haven’t considered much else. But Emma’s brows are knitted with concern, so I wave for her to go on.
“It’s just—an industry based on endlessly churning out cheap products, pushing reckless overconsumption—there are consequences.” Emma adjusts her posture, like she’s shifting into teaching mode. “The waste, the carbon footprint, the exploitation along the supply chain...”
As she lays out the not-so-glamorous underbelly of the fast fashion machine, I feel my excitement fizzling. The high I was riding sinks beneath a creeping sense of doubt.
Because she’s right. I let myself get so blinded by the money, I didn’t stop to think about the harm a brand with this kind of business model can cause. And attaching my name, my reputation to that—maybe not the smartest move if I want to keep looking at myself in the mirror. Be a spokesperson for generations to come.
Emma reaches across the table and gives my hand a squeeze, a soft sort of smile on her face. “I know you’re excited about this. I just want you to make sure you’re fully informed before signing anything. There’s a lot more at stake here than a paycheck.”
I nod slowly. My head is spinning now for a whole different reason, and I almost feel sick. I have to force myself to keep a smile on my face through the rest of the meal so Emma doesn’t feel guilty for bursting my bubble.
After dinner, I step outside and call Wayne. He answers on the first ring. “Xavier! So, you ready to make it official?”
I take a deep breath. “About that. I can’t sign the deal, Wayne.”
“You...what?” I can picture Wayne’s grin sliding right off his tanned face. “Why the hell not? This is a no brainer!”
“I know what we talked about, but I can’t attach my name to something that’s doing so much harm. Ethically, environmentally—”
Wayne cuts me off with a harsh laugh. “Don’t tell me this is about your girl. Yeah, I know you went out with Emma. Stop fucking with me, Xavier. You’ve only got a few more years to capitalize on your pro status. You really wanna let your less than a month-old relationship dictate your business moves?”
I bristle at his dismissive tone, but I don’t know if it’s because of how he’s being with me or his attitude toward Emma. “It’s not just her, man. I have to think about the impact of these choices. My legacy.”
“Impact,” Wayne scoffs. “You need to think about your own damn future! Deals like this don’t grow on trees.”
I open my mouth to respond, but he barrels on. “You’re at the peak of your career. If you don’t cash in now, you’ll regret it.” He lets out an exaggerated sigh, voice dripping with condescension. “But hey, it’s your mistake to make. Don’t come crying to me when you’re sitting there in a couple of years watching the big bucks go to younger players.”
The line goes dead before I can get another word in. I stare down at my silent phone. What the fuck! Wayne’s warnings ringing in my ears.
He’s not wrong, though. Chances like these are fleeting in the world of pro sports for athletes my age. In five years, I could struggle to make a fraction of what Pulse Athletic is offering today. And I’ve only known Emma for a few weeks, really. Should I let her influence my career decisions?
I care for her, yes. I think there’s a chance I could fall in love with her. Hell, I think I’m partway there, if I’m being honest. But I’m not there yet. And I don’t know if she feels the same, if she sees a future with us.
Except her words hang in the air too, a reminder that most choices have consequences I can’t ignore. This is my legacy. Whatever I decide will send ripples far beyond my career and bank account.
As I hail a cab to head home, one question pounds through my head, drowning out the blaring horns and screeching brakes of the city.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
SEVENTEEN
