I supposed, for now, I could just focus on work. I could get this Nick Ferrari to Fresno State, get him all set up, and see what transpired from there.
But as for what would happen after that, I had no idea. I had a terrible feeling it would take something dramatic, something violently aggressive, for Malcolm to stop haunting my life.
Chapter 3: Nick
One Week Later
The alarm clock went off at five a.m., just like it did every day of the week.
Unlike most people, though, I had already risen before my alarm. The alarm wasn’t what woke me up; the alarm was like my mother as a child, making sure that I wasn’t slacking for any given reason on a particular day. I already had my workout clothes on, in fact; the only thing I needed to do before I got to my basement gym was throw some shoes on.
After I did that, I grabbed my phone and checked my email as I walked down. I didn’t have anything of particular notice in the inbox; a couple of requests for endorsement, some notices from my agent, and one from my grandfather saying he’d love to see me perform on opening day. I smiled at my grandfather’s email; for one, I knew that he hadn’t actually sent the email, and for another, he always saw me perform on opening day. My family didn’t make every game—all the grandkids had their own lives—well, sans Leo—but opening day and any postseason runs were mandatory viewing.
Just before I plugged my phone into the stereo system so I could start blaring some rock while I worked out, I took a look at my calendar. I had a radio interview to do at eight in the morning, and…
Oh, look at that. The Fresno State presentation.
In the week since, my initial infatuation with Izzy Saunders had faded a bit in favor of the fact that I was going back to campus. I thought about how I wanted to phrase my sentences, what points I would strike, and what parting messages I wanted to give. I swapped over to my notes app and read through the three biggest things I’d said to say: “Preparation, Discipline, Passion.” PDP, I called it.
Catchy, easy to remember, and hopefully the kind of thing that captivated students. And maybe some of the people setting up this event…
I laughed to myself as I plugged the phone in, and Metallica blared over the speakers. If there was one thing I was damn good at, it was not getting distracted by the pitfalls of women and other nightlife adventures. Maybe it was because I already came from money, but I never felt the need to flaunt what I had, nor did I feel the need to chase what I hadn’t had before.
Admittedly because I’d never struggled in the romance department.
But, given that I was still single, maybe I’d struggled in “finding the right one” department.
Maybe, just maybe, I was on the verge of finally getting that department right.
But if I was just going to keep living life as I was, alternating between games, training, endorsements, and the occasional high-end date, did I really expect something unexpected to happen?
* * *
I arrived at Fresno State’s campus about half an hour later wearing sunglasses and a hat with the San Francisco 49ers logo on it. The disguise was minimal, and the accessories so cliché that the very act of me dressing like this would have marked me as someone worth trailing to most eyes. But I had nothing to fear—those who would attend the job fair were probably in their dorms or apartments, dressing up as well as they could, and those not attending the fair had their necks craned forward, their eyes to their smartphones.
I reread Izzy’s email telling me to call her number when I arrived so that she could escort me in. When I got to the entrance of the auditorium, I did just that, a little curious to see if the person in real life would match the Google image.
“Rachel Winters, how can I help you?”
Wait, uh…
“Sorry, I must have—”
“You’re trying to reach Izzy Saunders? I’m her assistant. Izzy is working to get an event set up. How may I help you?”
“Oh, OK,” I said, unsure if I should have felt relief Izzy was still in the area or disappointment it would not be her coming to help me. “I’m Nick Ferrari. I was told to give you a call when I arrived—”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Ferrari, of course. Wait one moment, and I will come get you outside.”
“Perfect. I’m…wearing sunglasses and a 49ers hat.”
I hesitated to tell her only because I realized that nine a.m. on a college campus might as well have been five a.m. in the world at large. I didn’t need to give any identifying features because I was quite literally the only person standing outside the auditorium this early.
“Great, one moment.”
Rachel disconnected the phone. She seemed friendly enough. And, as I reminded myself, I had come to give back to Fresno State before the season kicked into gear and I got far too busy to so much as make a cameo on campus, even though it was within an afternoon’s drive from both my home and even our home stadium.
Less than a
