Page 32 of Revenge Puck

Aware of him as he climbs into the Uber beside me, hands to himself but thighs touching. Aware of him as he holds the door for me when we arrive at our destination.

For a few seconds, I stand at the entrance of the ballroom, awestruck.

Glass chandeliers, marble floors, and ceilings that rise to impossible heights. I imagine it filled with tables and decorations and players dancing—and raising hundreds and thousands of dollars for the team’s charity.

Whitney is already twenty steps ahead of us, phone out, snapping photos, laser-focused as her heels click against the floors.

“Okay, imagine the registration tables here.” She gestures wildly. “Silent auction items along that wall there, stage at the front—oh! We could do a shrimp cocktail station near thecolumns?” My boss wanders off, frantically dictating notes to herself.

Aaron and Garrett loom beside me, the rookie player doing his best to capture my attention, whilemyattention is still fixated on Aaron.

“So, what’s your job here exactly?” Garrett asks.

I’m not allowed to date you, dude, dial down the flirting a notch…

“Player Engagement is my official title,” I tell him proudly, satisfied when he looks suitably impressed.

He perks up immediately. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m your social fairy godmother. You want to visit sick kids at a hospital? Done. Autograph signing at a sports expo? Scheduled. Charity appearances, photo ops, community events—I’m your girl. I make you look good when you get to where you’re going.”

He grins. “So, you control my public image.”

I nod. “Terrifying, right?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aaron leaning against one of the stately marble columns, arms crossed, expression unreadable. He hasn’t said much since we walked in, but I’m painfully conscious of him.

And the fact that he’s watching me instead of the room.

Nearby, Whitney stops to gesture near an exit. “Juliette, what do you think about placing sponsor signage here?”

My nose scrunches up. “Will signs get noticed there?”

Whitney hums, tapping on her cell. “Hmm, good point.” Then she brightens, clapping. “Oh! But this space over here isperfectfor couples. We’ll do a few couches, don’t you think? Champagne, dancing.”

Garrett lights up. “See? Romance.”

Whitney concurs. “Exactly! The fundraiser is basically a built-in excuse to bring a plus-one. Show your girlfriend a good time.”

Garrett turns toward me, clearly gearing up to say something smooth?—

“I had a bad breakup.” Aaron’s voice cuts in, flat and unapologetic.

He drops the unexpected confession like a wrecking ball.

Garrett slowly turns to him, disbelief etched across his face. “Wow. Way to kill the buzz, dude.”

I stare at them both, gazing back and forth between the two of them. “You couldn’t let us have the date night fantasy forfiveseconds?”

Aaron shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Stating facts.”

He’s as romantic as a funeral brochure.

Whitney clears her throat loudly to regain our attention. “Alright, moving on. I’m going to see what’s going on near the stage.” She gestures vaguely toward the far end of the ballroom, retreating, high heels echoing as she makes her escape.

I catch Garrett’s eye and he mouths, “He is no fun.”

I bite my lip.