Page 4 of Playing to Win
Chapter 2
“That. Was. Brutal.” Callie rolled her shoulders, trying to rid them of the knots that had formed from holding a ridiculously stiff, pseudo-model pose for three hours. She rubbed her cheeks at the same time, sure they were frozen in the phony smile she had to give each time the camera flashed in front of her face. She would be seeing spots for days.
“You’d think after four years you’d get used to these things,” Aria said, not looking affected in the least. “All you have to do is smile for the camera for a few hours. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is I get tired of old men feeling like they’re entitled to grab my butt just because they hold box tickets to the games.”
“Girly, you’re an NBA cheerleader. That’s part of the game.”
“For one more semester. Then, I graduate, find a job, and never have to let another nasty old man grab my butt again.”
Aria burst out laughing. “Oh, honey, you are so naïve. You’re a broadcasting major. You want to work as a sportscaster, in a business run predominantly by chauvinistic men. Butt-grabbing will be the norm for you. They’ll probably expect you to sleep with them, too.”
Callie bit back a groan. She knew what she wanted to do with her life would be hard, but she couldn’t imagine doing anything else. She wanted to be the next Erin Andrews. Her mom had died when she was three, so she didn’t have much female influence growing up. All her days were spent on a field or a court of some kind with her dad. She had more sports knowledge in her pinky finger than most of the Thunder season ticket holders. She wanted her shot at being in the thick of all that sports action, proving she knew how to do it. Proving her worth in a world predominantly run by men. All her hard work and sacrifice in college would pay off, she knew it. She just hoped that this whole cheerleading thing would give her that elusive advantage to get her foot in the door of an already super competitive market. It was no Dancing With the Stars break like Andrews got, but maybe, just maybe, her shaking pom-poms were enough to get her at least a couple of interviews for her dream job.
“Well, they better be prepared to be disappointed,” Callie told her. “I’m getting a job on my outstanding broadcasting skills alone. And maybe a few pom-pom shaking ones.”
“By pom-poms, do you mean the ones you hold that are fluffy or the ones gifted to you by the Man upstairs?” Aria asked with a waggle of her eyebrows.
Callie laughed. “Aria, you are so bad! How did we ever become friends again?”
“Easy. No one can resist my charm.”
“That is true, girlfriend. Now, I gotta jet. Unfortunately, I have a textbook that’s calling my name.”
“Don’t study too hard. I read somewhere that too much studying makes you cross-eyed.”
With a laugh, Callie saluted her friend, grabbed her bag, hoisted it over her shoulder and walked out the door just as her phone began ringing. “Hey, Daddy,” she said, walking down the long corridor that led to the underground parking lot where all the players and cheerleaders got to park.
“Hey, Sunshine.” Her daddy said he called her Sunshine from the moment he saw her blonde head of hair when she was born because he knew she was going to be his ray of sunshine. “I watched the game on TV. Boys did pretty good.”
“Yeah, it was a pretty good game. Kelly stunk it up in the first half. It’s a good thing he has some good teammates to cover for him.”
“Now, don’t be so hard on the kid, Sunshine. Last time I checked, you had a bad game or two in your lifetime.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. You don’t need to remind me. There’s just something about him that rubs me the wrong way, that’s all.”
“There’s something about all professional athletes that rub you the wrong way, sister. That doesn’t mean they’re all like Matt.” Her daddy knew her too well.
“Okay, okay. Point taken. I gotta go, Daddy. I’ve got a big test I have to get home and study for.”
“All right, Sunshine. You coming over Friday night? I’m grilling my famous burgers.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Callie threw her phone into her purse and went scrounging for her keys, which apparently were not wanting to be found. “Come on, you stupid keys. Ugh. Where are you?”
She rounded the corner of the parking garage, slamming her bag against the brick wall as she simultaneously slammed her body against what felt like a brick wall. Bouncing back from the force, her shoulder rammed into the wall, knocking her bag loose, the contents spilling out all over the floor.
Well, at least this made finding my keys easier, she thought with a sigh.
Callie looked up to find the reason she found herself and the contents of her bag scattered across the parking garage floor. She had to look up. And up. And up. And wouldn’t you know her luck? It was the man of the proverbial hour.
The nightof schmoozing the big wigs had Kyle even more tired than the four quarters he had played before it. All thoughts of ramen noodles gone, he wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed with his cat, Garth, and sleep for two days.
He had just reached his cherry red BMW Z4, reached in his pocket for his wallet and phone to put in the door and realized he had left both of them in his locker. With a sigh, he pressed the lock button on his fob and headed back down the walkway to the locker room.
Muttering to himself about his dumb luck, Kyle turned the corner just in time to run right into a mop of white blonde curls. The curls bounced off his chest, sending the girl and the contents of her purse? Bag? Small piece of luggage? Flying all over the parking garage floor.
“Damn it, jerkface! You can’t just—” her voice trailed off as she looked up and saw the reason she was on the floor.
