Page 163 of ClickBack

Giselle leans over to see the screen. “Please don’t encourage him. He has been sending that to everybody since yesterday.”

“Because nobody called it.”

“Nobody in that video is waiting for our ruling.”

I send, You saw it right. Now send me a clip of you making that left-hand layup we worked on.

She reads over my arm and laughs. “That should quiet him down.”

“He can make it.”

“Then perhaps you’ll hear from him.”

I put the phone away. She goes back to the window, looking at a city she is beginning to recognize. When she points out the street we took to dinner, Graves tells her she has it right. I like hearing that more than I liked anything anybody told me at the facility.

Jawn is closed to the public. Through the front glass I can see a camera being moved, Nina holding the door to let a crew member bring in a case, and Ronan talking with both hands while somebody tries to clip a microphone to his shirt.

“He’s not even hosting,” Graves says.

“Tell him.”

“I have somewhere else to be.”

Inside, Nina pulls me into a hug, then looks at Giselle.

“You must be the reason this one came back smiling.”

“He saw the weight room,” Giselle says.

“Don’t give the equipment credit.” Nina hugs her before I can make the introduction. “I’m Nina. Welcome.”

Giselle thanks her and looks toward the photographs along the wall. She stops at one of Broad Street in the rain.

“That could be a block from my old office.”

“You were downtown?” Nina asks.

They get into streets, stores, and a bakery Nina still misses. Giselle knows the bakery. She also knows it changed owners, which Nina takes personally until Giselle assures her the pound cake survived.

I leave them to it. Cole comes out of the rear hall carrying an equipment case. I wait until he has almost passed me to ask whether he needs a hand.

“Now you ask,” he says.

“You had it.”

He sets the case down and daps me up. “Next time check with your hands instead of your mouth.”

“You charging for all this work?”

“I’m married to production.”

Bellamy hears him from the host table. “Production can hear you.”

“Good. Production owes me lunch.”

Her father is adjusting his microphone. She catches his hand without interrupting what she is saying to Cole, then turns back to Terrence.

“Daddy. They set that.”