Page 8 of (La)Crosse My Heart

“Who else have you worked with?” I ask. This sounds like more of an interrogation on my part than it should be. But it would be nice to know I’m not a total loss. If one of the more well-known athletes in any sport had problems like I do, I’d know there’s hope for me.

She glances away and says, “I worked with a lot of track and field athletes.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Track and field? That’s not even close to lacrosse.”

She stares at me and lets out a slow breath before answering. “I’m not teaching you on-field skills. I’m giving you tips to help you talk to the cameras or perform for your endorsement deals.You may be an expert in your sport, but from everyone I’ve talked to since I got here, you need help in other areas.”

I don’t know whether to laugh or be offended. It’s almost refreshing to have her blunt delivery back in my life. For a very short time, hopefully. “What title do you give people when they ask?”

“I’m an Athlete Image and Engagement Manager. The company was hesitant to hire me.”

I shake my head. “That’s not something I want to hear from you.”

“Well, I don’t have several dozen referrals as others in my position. I’ve worked with college teams in the past but never professionals. Where do I get experience if no one gives me that opportunity?”

Groaning, I say, “So you want to make me your test rat?”

“Your words, not mine,” she says, holding her hands in the air. She laughs a little, and I’m surprised by how beautiful she is when she smiles.

Whoa, I need to stop that line of thought before it goes too far. This is Brock’s older sister, for crying out loud. There’s no way a relationship with her would ever work. Not that I should even jump to that kind of thinking.

The elevator doors open and Jessa walks out first. I watch as she gracefully strolls toward the conference room down the left hallway. Has she been here for a while? I’ve been with this club for the last three years and I’ve barely ever been up here.

She opens the door and waves me inside. “Okay, let’s talk through some things.”

I take a seat, leaning back in it so I’m balancing on two legs. The distraction of keeping my balance helps ease the anxiety a bit, like if I have something else to focus on, I won’t have to worry about what questions are coming.

“What are you feeling when you go into media interviews?” she asks, grabbing a tablet from the chair next to her. Where did that come from?

“Like I’d rather just shower and go home than talk to reporters.”

She stops tapping on the tablet screen and glances up at me. “You don’t want the limelight of people telling you how great you played?”

I frown and shake my head. “I play this sport because I love it. Because deep down, I don’t know what my life would be like without it. It’s not about recognition. It’s about survival.”

Have I ever put all of those words together when describing my lacrosse life? No. But maybe they’d been bubbling to the surface. Or maybe it’s being with Jessa.

As much as I don’t want to go through whatever mental hoops I need to be cured, maybe it’s a good thing I’m working with her. She knows a lot about me, although a few things have changed from when I was a little hellion.

She nods and taps away at the keyboard some more. “Do you get nervous when you know you’ll have to speak to reporters?”

“Not really. It’s more a combination of the whole thing. The dozens of questions and the cameras.” Admitting this seems way too vulnerable for me, but I’ve got to get it out if I can make things different. I don’t want to waste another weekend like the one I just went through for the endorsements.

Jessa nods and types on the tablet again. “What about your personal brand? What are you hoping it will look like?”

I frown, not sure what she’s talking about.

“I’m a Salt Lake Lancer. Isn’t that my brand?”

She gives me a slight eye roll and says, “No, that’s the team’s brand. You need to come up with something so people know immediately it’s you.”

“Are we talking about clothing or my signature?” I ask, still more confused than ever. “I thought we’d be going over the ways to talk to people or something. Not that I can’t talk to people...” I say, trailing off.

Jessa nods. “We’ll get to that point. I’m not going to just help you in one part and send you on your way. I’m here to help with the total transformation.”

I frown. “You want me to be a robot?”

“No,” she says with a groan. “Most people are content to work with me on this. Of course, you have to be difficult.”

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