Page 13 of Brick Wall
“True.” He gives me a small smile in return.
“So, this is a co-ed basketball league,” I say, more as a statement than a question.
“I don’t know.” He reaches to the back of his neck with his hand and scratches it. “I just show up, but there’s at least one girl here now that I think of it.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Also, true, but not nearly as much as these other guys.”
Chapter Six
Sebastian
“We lost a sponsor, but I’m on it,” my sister says as I walk through the office doors.
Shit. Not the way I wanted to start my day.
I own a nonprofit foundation, Good WIN, which focuses on women in need (hence the WIN) in the community. We run a women’s shelter in a large brick building in the South End of Boston, and our foundation office is on the top floor.
My oldest sister, Scarlett, runs the day-to-day operations of the foundation year-round, whereas I’m typically only in the office during the off-season.
We are originally from Northern California, but she moved out here five years ago for a fresh start. We started the foundation together a few months later, but she is basically the brains of the foundation, and I’m the face. We make a good team.
She is the main reason we’ve been able to expand and grow exponentially over the last few years. She is a godsend, and I’mso lucky we get to work on something we are both passionate about.
Our initial and most notable project is the women’s shelter, but we are also branching out to new projects. Our largest fundraiser is a gala that happens soon, before training camp begins, and we recently lost a sponsor of it.
“Shit. Which one?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m on it.”
That would be our biggest sponsor, then. I can cover the financial aspect, but getting community support and resources is helpful. My sister has been networking frequently lately, so I trust she’s on it.
Not even half an hour later, she comes into my desolate office. There’s a bare desk and chair here and a filing cabinet—nothing on the wall and no personal touches either. I don’t spend too much time here, so it’s only the basics.
“Tomorrow at ten, you have a meeting with Ryan and Tristan Moore. I sent the info to your email.”
“You’re the best sister! Thank you!”
“Careful with that praise, or next thing you know, I’ll make you put on that shirt and wear it in front of Livvy,” she teases.
Livvy, also strictly called Olivia by our mother, is our youngest sister. She is closer to me in age, and truthfully, I’ve always been closer to her. Scarlett is four years older than me and seven years older than Olivia. Growing up, Scarlett seemed so much older than us. She was so mature and less fun, but she was never a mother figure to us either, since she wasn’t really that much older than us.
However, I’ve gotten much closer to my big sister in the last few years, especially since I see her every day during the off-season and a good amount during the in-season, too. I’mgrateful that I get to work with her and make a difference in our community.
“If that meeting goes well tomorrow, I’ll buy you the shirt.”
I open the email she sent me and start reading the details.
“Wait, Moore?”
“Yes…” she says hesitantly, like I’m going to drop terrible news on her or kick her puppy.
“Am I meeting with the Moore boys?”
The Moore boys are a group of brothers that are well known in the Boston area. We share a few of the same friends and contacts, but I have never met them. They own an elite fitness and training center in Boston and on the South Shore and are also known for their family nonprofit and positive community impact.
“Yes,” she says with a little more confidence. “Well, the two oldest.”
