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“Babe?” I side up next to her and pull her to me.
“It’s okay, I’m okay,” she defends herself.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“I had a meeting with Mr. Lyons today and he presented me with some new companies to consult for, and well I’m sure they’re great - but I feel that the companies are just not up to par with the Hornets. Like I’m being demoted, because the Hornets went with another company, as if it’s my fault that they switched.”
“You don’t believe that do you?” I ask, hoping that she doesn’t.
“I don’t know. The accounts are bullshit. A dog walking company, a coffee shop - that’s far from the high status of the Hornets accounts,” she replies. “It’s mini ponies in a huge whatever grand show that those stupid horses prance around and do stunts in. Then they get those freaking huge flower necklaces or whatever those are.
“Maybe these companies are looking for someone of your caliber to bring their company into the public eye that they haven’t had previously. Maybe you are just what these companies need to succeed and become something great.” I tell her, hoping that she hears my words as my hand around her waist traces her curves lightly.
“Do you really think so?” She asks her voice unsure and seeking confirmation as she looks at me.
“Babe. You revamped up the Hornets team with making the players personable. We did more community events that made us human and not just celebrities. That was you! When management hired you it was because of you and not because of me.”
“The Hornets has always been a great franchise, nothing about your previous branding or anything was bad, I just changed it up a bit,” she hiccups.
“I can go on and on about how much you’ve done for the team. However, babe, you are awesome at what you do. I would just write this off as a new opportunity and that’s it.”
“I’m scared Gun. I am scared of failing, of starting over. I mean, shit… there is so much happening right now. You… you are going to… oh my God - your meetings today. I’m so sorry, what happened? What do we know?” She asks looking up to me.
“A lot. A lot happened today, but we can wait until later to talk about everything.”
“No, I want to know. It was eating at me all day, amongst my crap,” her hands grasp onto my shirt.
“You sure?” I ask for confirmation.
She nods her head and angles her head to the couch.
“The trade rumors are true. I’m a free agent right now and other teams are asking for me to play for them. San Diego flat out said that they’re not going to keep me. They’re aiming for players for each team and if the money’s right, I don’t know – we’ll see what happens.”
“Who is interested?” She asks eagerly.
“Boston. Arizona. And Seattle.” I run my palm over my face as I gauge her reactions.
“It snows in Boston. It’s hot as sweaty balls in Arizona and it rains in Seattle,” she replies.
“Thank you for the weather report Ms. Rotham.” I joke. “What’s on the forecast for tonight?”
“How long do we have to choose?”
“This is my final year with the Hornets. Next season, we may be in another city. Whatever I choose, I want you to be with me. I want this decision to be our decision, something that we make together.” I didn’t let go of the fact that she said ‘we’.
“Do you know where you want to go?” She hiccups.
“Where we want to go, you mean? We will have to weigh each option carefully. But we’re not in any rush. Each team is aware that it’s not a simple decision- so I have time. But in the meantime, I will have the teams likely romancing me and judging my performances during this season until I choose.”
“So today was a bunch of crazy for the both of us,” she observes as she sits back against the couch cushions.
“It appears so.” I agree with her.
“Should we drink to our choices?”
“Our choices?” I ask.
“You know, of where we’re going to live next year.”
