Page 160 of What are the Risks
She rushed over and wrapped me up in a warm hug. Then it was Stefan’s turn. And then my sister’s. Then Brady’s. And on and on it went until Ruby was the last person in line.
Standing face-to-face, she peered up at me, her eyes gentle yet wary behind her glasses. “Hey, Wheels.”
I set aside our last conversation for a moment and pulled her close. And just like that, she was back where she belonged.
I held on tightly, my nose brushing against her neck as I breathed in her familiar perfume. If anybody else noticed this hug was longer than all the rest, they kept quiet.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” I whispered so only she could hear.
“Our parents would have thought it was weird if I didn’t.”
I edged back, studying her. “Is that the only reason you’re here?”
“No. I...” She trailed off, peering around the busy lobby. “I don’t want to make this day about me, but do we have time to talk?”
Before I could respond, my driver tapped my shoulder. I felt like a conceited dick admitting I had one, but he’d told me his solepurpose this week was to get me to and from the hotel for Draft events – I wasn’t about to ignore him and make his job harder.
“It’s time to go,” he said.
Ruby frowned. “Already?”
“I have to be there early,” I explained. “There’s a schedule of things beforehand.”
“Oh.” She dejectedly stepped back. “Okay.”
“We’ll talk after. I promise.”
Her lip tugged up, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “When you’re a big NFL star.”
“I–”
“Mr Richardson?” the driver prompted.
Ruby put more effort into her smile as she waved me away. “Get out of here, Wheels.”
*
This morning had dragged, but now that I was here, it was passing by so fast. Soon it would all be decided – the city I’d be moving to, the players that would become my teammates, and the coach I’d play under.
A producer guided the top fifteen prospects into a large, staged room – the place where I would learn my fate. It had been divided into sections, giving each player their own space with their families.
They’d brought us through here earlier in the week to explain how today would play out. As a quarterback, I prided myself on absorbing information – plays, instructions, tactics and code words – but off the field, keeping up with today’s details was another story.
I was relieved I wasn’t the number one pick. Somebody else had to figure it out first – where to walk, when to pause for a photo, whose hand to shake.
I recognised the majority of the other prospects in the room, not only from spending the past few days together, but also from having played against them at some stage in either high school or college.
The quarterback who’d eliminated Phil-U from the national championship was set up in the section next to mine. He was currently projected to go after me, which, I’ll admit, made me feel alittle smug. It was almost as satisfying as watching him lose the championship game... not that I was carrying any grudges or anything.
Each section had three velvet lounges, all facing a large screen like we were in our living rooms at home. But no matter what they tried to manufacture, I couldn’t forget the fact there were thousands of people in this building, not to mention millions more watching the broadcast.
It was almost go-time, and honestly, I was ready to get it over with.
Right on schedule, the doors opened for the family members to enter. I heard mine before I saw them. Mum and Cherie were gossiping about someone they’d just passed – something about the ex-wife of the current husband of a billionaire who starred in a reality TV show they loved.
Ruby was a few steps behind them, awe plain across her face as she took it all in. We’d watched the Draft every year since we were kids, but seeing it in person was on a whole other level. The sheer scale of it was daunting – the screens, the set-up, the building.
She was dressed in loose white pants, paired with a matching buttoned top, looking beautiful as always. I wished I could tell her that... I wished I could tell her a lot of things.
