Page 1 of Rookie Season
1
SIERRA
TWO DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS
“Turn it off! It’s evil!”
“Mariah Carey is not evil.” Nova’s aghast voice comes from the passenger seat of the Volvo as she turns to look at me. Her round blue eyes and pink-tipped blond hair do nothing to make her intimidating.
“Then why do we have to defrost her each December?” I shudder. “She cursed us with this song back in the nineties, and every year, it rears its ugly head. Like one of the four horsemen of the holiday apocalypse.”
I lunge forward and hit the skip button on the car’s entertainment system. “All I Want for Christmas Is You” cuts out, replaced by “Blue Christmas.”
That’s more like it.
I shift to get comfortable in the back seat I share with the stack of luggage that didn’t fit in the trunk.
“What are the other three?” Brooke asks from the driver’s seat.
“Three what?”
“Horsemen.”
I hold up my fingers. “Mistletoe. Candy canes. Christmas lights, Clark Griswold style.”
Out the window, we pass growing piles of snow lining I-70 on our drive out of Denver. The mountains rise sharply in the distance, the sky a crisp, cold blue thanks to the altitude. It’s a paradise so many vacationers flock to. For me, it’s home.
“I never knew you were such a Christmas grinch.” Brooke’s wearing a bright-orange sweater with fur lining the cuffs, her makeup and skin perfect and hair curly and shiny even though we’re on our way to the middle of nowhere.
“Not a grinch. The season is overrated. It’s a huge commercial push to spend money and go to parties and?—”
“Listen to Mariah?” Nova finishes.
“Exactly.” She’s getting it now.
Brooke rolls her eyes at me in the rearview mirror.
The three of us are friends. We’ve spent lots of nights out together, and I lean on and trust both of them. But in one important way, I’m the odd one out.
Nova’s married to one of the starting Kodiaks, and Brooke’s engaged to another.
That’s right—the Denver Kodiaks. World champion basketball team.
Me? I’m the team’s unofficial bartender.
Because of the “purveyor of alcohol” thing, I’m one of the more popular people who’s not employed by the franchise. And sure, I’m friends with the guys and their WAGs. I give them credit for being down to earth, considering the guys on the team make more in forty-eight minutes on the floor than I do in tips the entire year.
I was still surprised to score an invite to this top-secret holiday weekend.
But the girls must have decided I’m close enough to being a member of this unofficial club to warrant sharing two days and nights of snowy adventures.
“I swear I didn’t pack enough clothes.” Brooke drums her manicured nails on the steering wheel.
“You have that massive suitcase in the trunk,” Nova points out.
“If that was your suitcase, what’s this?!” I nod toward another pink bag occupying an entire seat in the back.
“A few shoes and bathing suits.”
