Page 10 of A Shot at Love
He chuckles a little. “I saw you play a bit at Stanford. You and Annie.” I’m basically hiding behind Allyson at the end, but even I hear the warmth when he says my name. What does it mean? Does he feel guilty for the abrupt ending to our relationship? Is he just trying to move on and be polite?
He shakes everyone’s hand as he walks down the line, sincerely responding with a “nice to meet you” or “it’s an honor”. He sounds professional, but kind. As he gets closer, I feel a little relieved. I can manage a conversation with the tone he’s setting. He recognizes Lynn, too, as she’s a veteran of the league, but otherwise, he practices saying everyone’s names, repeating them each time.
When he steps up to me, I open my mouth, ready to repeat the script I created in my head. Ready to pretend. Instead, Daniel’s warm, familiar hand engulfs mine. I look at him, startled at the intimate contact. We’re basically eye-to-eye, both of us being six feet tall. “Annie Larger.” I must look like a deer in headlights. What will he say? Will he spill our secret history? Will he say the reason he left me? Definitely not that last one. His eyes are sparkling dangerously, long lashes surrounding his dark gaze. “I’m a big fan.”
He’s trying to shake my hand, but I’m of no help. He said he was a big fan. Of me. His ex.
He stole my line.
Someone starts snickering, probably Olabisi or Jadea, and I realize I’m still holding his hand. I haven’tsaid anything in response either, totally frozen. How long have we been standing this way?
He’s leaning in a bit towards me, as though waiting for a response. I drop his hand quickly, taking a half step back. My heartbeat is too loud in my ears, but I manage a shaky smile. “Thank you. It’s so nice tomeet you.” I wonder if he hears the spark of defiance in my voice, the warning. For a brief moment, I think I see disappointment flash across his face, but it’s gone so quickly I blame my paranoid brain.
He thanks all of us, smiling again, and gestures to Iris. Our line relaxes, everyone sitting down or leaning against the table as we listen to her go over our schedule for the next two weeks. I can barely hear what she’s saying as I try desperately not to look at Daniel. He stands a few paces away, next to Iris.
Jadea covertly comes to stand by me, nudging me with her elbow.
I raise a brow in question.
“Oh my God!” she mouths, tilting her head toward Daniel.
“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” I whisper, turning my head stubbornly.
Jadea continues to look at me as if it’s the first time she’s ever seen me. “Sure. Sure, you don’t.”
I try to focus on Iris again, but eventually I give in and peek at Daniel. I almost fall out of my chair when I find his dark gaze already on me. There’s one electric second where we stare at each other, and the roaring in my ears gets louder. I find myself wishing I could go over and talkto him, hear more of his passion and intensity, watch that mole on his chin move as he smiles.
Instead, I snap my gaze away, flushed. Daniel left me. He’s acting like his old self—kind, and hardworking, and intense—but that doesn’t mean we should fall into our old habits. I’ll be the one who ends up hurt and alone. From my peripheral vision, I notice Daniel’s lips settle into a firm line. Fortunately, Jadea didn’t seem to notice our exchange.
This will be a long two weeks.
6
Daniel sticks to his word when it comes to Coach Rembert’s rule. He’s unobtrusive, always on the outskirts, a flash I see hovering just beyond reach. He watches our individual workouts, frequently typing on his phone or talking to Iris. He always has a slight smile on his face, a kindness to his expression. He has no camera crew with him, and if I remember anything from Iris’ speech, it’s that today is only observational for them. Maybe sniffing out a story or an angle or building their plan for the next week. There’s been no subtle way to pull him aside and clear the air, so I’ve just ignored him instead.
When it’s time for my individual workout, I’m focusing on passing drills. As the team’s starting point guard, it’s my job to get the play started and keep the ball moving. Today, Coach Zak whips out the giant tire, rolling it towards me. One of our practice players, Patrick, stands in front of me to act as a fake defender. I have to keep passing the ball through the hole of the rolling tire while Patrick is all in my face. It’s designed to improve my passing accuracy under pressure from my defender.
I nervously peek around just as we’re about to start the drill, but to my relief, I don’t see Daniel. I’d like to say I’m cool enough to do this drill perfectly with himwatching, but it’s more likely I would embarrass myself. Putting his handsome face firmly out of my mind, I perform the drill. I keep pushing Patrick back, shoving him with my shoulder and throwing the ball through the tire pushed along by Zak. The first ball hits the side of the tire and bounces off. Patrick, who shoots me an apologetic glance, blocks the second ball. I grit my teeth and catch the third ball. Zak nods at me encouragingly, and I focus past Patrick’s bulky shoulder and towards the moving target. The next ball rockets through. And the next. And the next.
By the end of my individual workout, I’m sweating and grinning. Basketball has so much rhythm and getting in the groove made my body hum happily in response. I turn to the bench, looking for Jadea. Instead, I see my entire team huddled around Daniel and something he’s showing them on his phone.
Daniel and Jadea both look up at me at the same time. Jadea is clearly furious, her lips set in a grimace. Daniel’s expression is softer and unsure.
Surprisingly, Daniel speaks first. “Annie? I think you should come take a look at this.” How do they not hear the familiarity in his words? The easy way he says my name?
Now Taherah, Lynn, Olabisi, and Allyson are looking at me too. Everyone is, even Coach Rembert and Iris Langley. The heaviness of their gazes weighs me down, making the walk over to them seem slow and painful. When I finally reach their huddle, Allyson steps aside soI can stand next to Daniel and see the video he’s playing on his phone.
His volume is turned all the way up, and I catch the ESPN analyst’s words mid-sentence. “…information about the Jack Smith and Annie Larger controversy. Inside sources at the Archers/Arrows front office say that Jack Smith has been tracking Annie’s trajectory ever since she went to Stanford. The source says Jack Smith paid several journalists in the Stanford area to write articles about Annie when she was in season. The source also confirms the suspected mismanagement surrounding the draft, saying there was an explosive argument between executives over Annie being picked early in the second round by the Arrows. Many other executives on the team disagreed with Smith’s choice, and the source says many felt Jack was able to sneak Annie in because of the change in coaches from Jim Stance to Candace Rembert.”
“Besides the anonymous source, this story has been corroborated by the Arrows’ old GM and three of its board members. They confirm the mismanagement and admit their part in looking the other way. A lesser investigation will be opened on them as well…”
Every part of me that felt like it was singing moments ago has now gone icy cold. My breath is tight as I listen to the analyst finish their report. “The NBA and WNBA are launching a full investigation into Jack Smith and his front office. While there are no current legal issues surrounding the case, the NBA and WNBA would like to guarantee Mr. Smith did not break or bend any rulesrelating to league policy. Even if he managed to work through loopholes, the nepotism and manipulation of the draft will not go unnoticed by the world of sports. Moving on to the world of NASCAR…”
Daniel closes the video, quiet. So are the rest of my teammates, watching me carefully. Jadea reacts first. “This is bullshit!” She paces violently, breaking up the huddle that surrounded the phone. I watch her meltdown numbly. “Annie got coverage at Stanford because she was great! She was drafted because she was great! Who is this source they keep referring to? Has anyone even verified their accusations?”
I find my voice, trying to speak calmly. “They said the statements were verified by some of the board and our old GM. It can’t all be lies.” Jadea stops her pacing, looking at me with a furrowed brow. It feels like every word that comes out of my mouth is being said by a stranger, far away from me. “Excuse me, everyone, I need a minute.”
I don’t know how I walk away so calmly when it feels like my skin has been plunged into an ice bath. “Shit.” Jadea swears. “Annie, I’m sorry. Come back!”
