Page 61 of Best Year Ever
I smile at the memories that flood in, prompted by his question. “So many. Singapore is such a beautiful place and a very interesting blend of different cultures. And then I got to see some of the Australian Open tennis tournament, that was fun.”
Be careful, Landon, my inner voice says.
“I’ve always wanted to go down under,” Terry says, nodding.
“How about those young American tennis players?” Justin adds. “Malcolm Solomon was a surprise result at Paris, and this year Rori Reilly’s winning so often. Did you see either of them at the Australian tournament?”
Careful.“I didn’t see Malcolm play, just practice on one of the side courts. But I did see Rori, yes. We actually have an ad campaign coming out together.”
I think my voice pitched up a little on that last sentence. Shit.Red alert, caution, say less,the inner voice says more loudly.
“That’s cool,” Terry says. “What’s she like?”
Double shit. I can’t not answer.
“She’s obviously a killer on the court, but she’s also really fun and genuine. We had a great time.”
DON’T SAY MORE, that pesky inner voice shouts.
God, I think I might be blushing. Mercifully, Terry seems to accept that answer.
“Okay, man, well, we wish you the best for the new season. Maybe come back mid-season so we can break down how it’s going,” Terry says.
I sign off, and Molly, who has been watching off camera, takes care of disconnecting all the tech.
“That went well,” Molly said, smiling. “I was watching the comments in the chat room, and they were generally positive.”
“Generally,” I respond with a laugh. “That’s sports fans for you.”
I walk out of the office and head downstairs to see who is in the linebacker room. Each position has a space where we can gather as a group, which is a nice way to create a community vibe as a leader. Finding the room empty, I step out and run into Johnson in the hallway.
“Hey, you looking for your guys?” Johnson asks.
“I was just seeing who was around,” I explain. “I was on The Bros Know just now and I don’t have any agenda for the day, other than getting a lifting session in.”
“And maybe watch some tennis?” Johnson says, wearing a smirk as he lightly slaps my arm.
“Nope,” I snap back, looking around to make sure no one is listening. “With the time difference, all the matches are over now.”
“Yeah, the fact that you knew that and I didn’t says it all,” Johnson replies. “There’s always replay.” He walks away laughing.
I’m glad he didn’t stick around to make me reply.
Because watching Rori’s first round match on replay is exactly what I plan to do.
When I get home, true to our pattern, I FaceTime Rori after I stuff down some dinner. It’s right before she’ll go to sleep because of the time difference.
When I connect the call, she’s under the covers, makeup free and ready for bed, which somehow makes it feel more intimate.
“How was your team stuff today?” she asks with a yawn after we’ve been talking for a few minutes.
I tell her about dodging and weaving during the podcast interview and then, happily, make her laugh with some of the hilarious crap that went on at the gym.
“Everyone was so punchy today. They kept doing ridiculous positions with the weights, and it kept getting stupider, but we couldn’t stop laughing. Like one guy had his leg twisted around a rope pull, then wrapped it around his arm.”
“OMG,” she says, cracking up.
“Then we convinced one of the rookies that whipped cream and peanut butter sandwiches were the secret go-to meal for all the top players,” I add, unable to stop chuckling.
