Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
That calms me. I know fashion. I give good fashion tips. I’ll keep doing this and building my name, and I’ll move on from the Simone and Xander fiasco. I’ll use their wedding to grow my name, that’s all.
I quickly check my email and speak of the devil. There’s one from Xander, and one from Simone. Their wedding is key to my career goals. With a pit in my stomach, I open his first.
Simone told me you’re covering our wedding. I’m seriously proud of you! What an opportunity! You’ll do great!
I stare at it like it’s a message from a Martian. Who says those things? With so many exclamation points too. He’s proud of me for landing this prestige assignment by quitting?
I keep reading.
Maybe we can meet up soon, and I can tell you about some of my new business ventures?
Ohhhh. Of course. His email makes sense now. He wants me to mention his new ventures in their wedding coverage.
And the ick gets ickier. While I’m crawling with it, I click on a reply from Simone to my dress code query. Dress code is festive, she writes. Can’t wait to share more details when we meet soon!
I don’t actually want to read more about my ex-boss and my ex-boyfriend right now. I’ll come back to these later. I’m about to close out and get ready to head to the Sabers arena when I spot a new email.
Oh! It’s from one of the editors I wrote to.
The editor.
It’s from Birdie Michaels. She runs Your Runway, a popular site about adapting fashion trends and making them work for you. Holding my breath, I open it.
Dear Ivy,
Your pieces are sharp. Can you get me a story about the top five new looks in sustainable fashion by Wednesday?
Birdie
I light up like a neon sign on the Strip as I reply with a most enthusiastic yes. I text Trina and Aubrey and tell them the good news. I’ve been obsessed with her site for months. Their replies are bursting with exclamation points. I’m in the best of moods when I change and head to the Las Vegas Sabers arena.
Several hours later, the Avengers are winning, and I am tripping. And falling. And flailing.
All on purpose.
Good thing I wore knee pads under Blob. As circus music plays, I crawl along the ice in my purple costume, heart pounding as the Vegas tiger mascot skates circles around me on one leg, his other furry leg sticking out behind him.
The tiger looks all tough and tiger smooth while I look like, well, like a bulky letter A about to get demolished. But at the last minute, I comically—or so I hope—scramble to my feet and awkwardly—also on cue—rush off the ice with the tiger chasing me like I’m his last meal.
I finally make it to the tunnel, arms flapping, the crowd booing me off. Then, their mascot thrusts his orange and black striped arms in the air and glides around the oval, whipping up the home crowd.
I’m panting as I “escape,” finding Oliver, who high-fives me, palm to paw. “Good job,” he says.
The crowd loves it.
But it doesn’t do the trick of riling up the home team, since we destroy them.
Ha! Take that, tiger.
One of the guys I sat next to on the plane scored a goal. So did the other. I’m especially ecstatic for Hayes, since he wants to prove himself, but I’m thrilled for Stefan too, which is a new feeling. I’ve been to countless Avengers games over the last few years, rooting for my brother’s team, and I’ve witnessed plenty of Stefan’s goals. But the goal the captain scored tonight gave me a little zing, especially since it came right after Hayes’s goal, and I was already on a high. It became a double high.
Or maybe a triple high since I’m still giddy about the Your Runway assignment. But there’s nothing to do with these feelings but bottle them up.
After the media session, I’ve packed up my costume and given it to the equipment manager, and I’m ready to flop down on my big bed in my hotel room. On my way down the corridor to the exit, I spot Hayes and Stefan.
They’re huddling by the corner, dressed impeccably in their suits once again, and I wish Hayes and Stefan didn’t look so good.
But…suits.
They aren’t alone. They’re with Dev and Brady. A woman with sleek black hair stands next to Brady. She’s sporting a matching ring.
“It’s Blob!” Dev calls out, even though I’m two feet in front of him. “We’re taking New Guy out to celebrate.”
He grips Hayes’s shoulder, like atta boy.
This is promising. I glance at Hayes. “New nickname?”
My wedding date shrugs, like it’s no big deal. But there’s the start of a smile on his face because it is a big deal. He’s moving beyond his first nickname, and that’s huge. He doesn’t answer, though, and I understand not wanting to jeopardize the fragile shift in status with the team.