Something inside me snaps. It’s possible I didn’t hydrate enough during practice today, or maybe I’m having an early midlife crisis, but suddenly, I feel like taking a big chance. Not thinking first, just jumping.
“Bree?” I ask, and my tone clearly says something big is about to go down.
Her eyes widen. “Yeah?”
I step closer. You’d think I would be at a loss for words, but I’ve rehearsed this in my head so many times that I know word for word what to say. “Listen, about what you said in the video—”
I’m interrupted by a loud knock on my front door.
Bree looks immediately relieved, and she practically bounces on her toes as she says, “Oh! Someone’s at the door! I’ll get it!”
Great. Just great.
I open the front door, and Nathan’s agent, Nicole, sweeps in wearing a fabulous grey power suit, a large leather bag draped over her shoulder and a large foam board under her arm.
“Oh, good. You’re already here,” she says to me as she passes.
Her five-inch black stilettos click over the hardwood floor, and I have no idea how she manages to move so fast in those things. I would hardcore eat it on this slick surface if I tried to move like she does in those beauties. Not Nicole. She glides. Floats. A woman who dares you to mess with her. I think I have a girl crush.
Nicole has been Nathan’s agent since the start of his career, and she’s incredible. This woman is a no-nonsense powerhouse, and she’s notorious for negotiating the most ruthless contracts in the NFL. Nicole has taken Nathan’s career by the reins and steered it to incredible heights.
I want a Nicole. I’ve offered to pay her in lots of hugs and words of affirmation to guide my career in the right direction too, but oddly, she said no then went back to scheduling stuff on her phone for Nathan. Loyal—I can respect that. Besides, I’m doing okay on my own. Well, except for the part where Nathan has been monetarily floating me all this time without me knowing it. And I still can’t bring myself to send in the application to The Good Factory that I’ve filled out five different times. Yep, doing good.
Just as Nicole is setting down what I can only imagine is a foam board presentation of some kind （I hope there is glitter involved）， Nathan surfaces from his bedroom. I don’t even want to think about whatever it was he was getting ready to say to me back there in his room. I’ve never been more thrilled about an interruption in all my life. The way it sounded, he was about to let me down easy. Listen, Bree, about what you said in the video…I’m really flattered, but I just want to make sure we’re on the same page and you know we will only ever be friends.
I shiver and turn my attention to Nathan and Nicole.
“Hi Nathan, I’m sorry to bother you at night like this. I tried calling but you didn’t answer. Clearly, you were busy.” Her grey eyes shift mischievously toward me and then back to him.
We both start spouting babbling nonsense.
“Oh, we were just…”
“Lasagna!”
“And then a stain on my shirt.”
“An apology meal, and then straight home for me!”
Nicole holds up a hand like she’s silencing a kindergarten class. “Let me spare you both. I don’t care.” She then smiles and tightens her immaculate blonde high ponytail. It has that adorable flip at the end like Barbie. “I’m here because of a time-sensitive deal I need to discuss with both of you.”
“Both of us?” Nathan and I say in unison, and I want to kick us for being so annoyingly in tune.
Nathan shifts closer to me as Nicole adjusts her foam board into an upright position on the coffee table then opens both of the flaps. This time, Nathan and I both gasp in horror. Oh, Nicole. Poor woman. Clearly the pressure of this job has taken a toll on her brain.