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“Well, you’ll have the perfect chance to catch up,” Leilani says brightly. “Because they want to have a player on her show, and we think you’re just the man for the job.”
“Me?” My nose wrinkles. “I don’t know shit about baking.”
Coach laughs. “That’s the whole point, son. It’ll be endearing.”
“Endearing,” I scoff. It seems ridiculous, but I suppose in my situation, I don’t really have room to be picky. “And Lila is okay with this?”
“It was her idea,” Leilani says.
That takes me by surprise. Lila wanted me on her show? I mean, I’m grateful that she’d be willing to help me out, but I can’t say that I’m not thrown by it. Given that we haven’t had a real conversation since I got drafted—it seems like a stretch.
But then again…Lila was always a fucking saint.
I turn to Molly, her expression cool and her lips wrinkling slightly with the way she has them pressed together. “Molly? What do you think?”
“It’s a good idea,” she admits. “If you’re still against making a public statement—”
“I am,” I interrupt firmly.
Molly nods. “This is a good alternative. Give the internet some cute shit to talk about. What’s cuter than a ginger giant in an apron?”
I have to force myself not to wince at the image. I’m going to look ridiculous. But…I guess it’s better than the alternative. Besides, what choice do I have?
“All right,” I tell them, seeing little other choice even if I were opposed. “I’m cool with it.”
“Great,” Coach says, slapping his hands together. “We’ll have other things lined up for you, but this is a great kickoff.”
I nod aimlessly, still feeling nerves flutter through me at the thought of being in front of a camera working with flour and sugar and God knows what else. Definitely not how I imagined reconnecting with Lila again.
I can’t help but smile. At least there’ll be one good thing to come from all this shit.
I’ve definitely missed the kid.
Three
DELILAH
“I can’t believe you didn’t consult me first,” Theo hisses beside me at the conference table the team is gathered around. “Hockey players are brutes. What if they say something stupid?”
I cock an eyebrow. “Brutes? You never seem to mind Olsson being a brute when you’re lusting over him while we watch the games.”
“That’s different,” he mumbles, his pale cheeks darkening. “I can appreciate their brutish form aesthetically without asking them to knock bowls off your counter or take out their teeth on camera.”
“I don’t actually know that many players who are missing their teeth,” I tell him. “And I have met most of the players on the Druids at some point or another.”
“Whatever,” he huffs. “I just wish you’d have run it by me first.”
“I panicked! You weren’t there.”
“I know. We should have rescheduled.”
“It’s fine,” I assure him. “Really. I think people are going to love this.”
The network’s PR rep, Ben Carter, raps his knuckles on the table. His watery eyes always make him seem like he’s either suffering from perpetual allergies or on the verge of tears—but you learn to focus on other things after a while when he has your attention. “Hey, Delilah, still good? Did you have a chance to look at the proposal?”
“Yeah, it looks good to me,” I tell him. “Pretty straightforward. I’m glad we went with just one hour-long special for now. I’d hate to be contracted for more if this ends up being a disaster.”
“I thought the same,” he says with a nod. He glances at Theo, biting his lip. “Hello, Mr. King.”
