Ari started them off with a guided meditation. Georgia closed her eyes and tried to concentrate.
“You are sitting on the beach, on a warm, breezy day,” Ari began. “The waves are lapping onto the sand in a soothing, rhythmic way that matches your breathing. Focus on your breath. Allow your breath to find its natural, unhurried pace. Let the ocean sync with your body. There is peace between you and the world . . .”
Georgia’s eyes snapped open. Her father wasn’t in the room. She flicked her eyes back and forth, double-checking. Where was he? On the phone to Vancouver?
“When you breathe in, it is clean, salty air. When you exhale, you rid yourself of worry and anguish.”
No, Vancouver is three hours behind. It’s five in the morning there.
At this rate, she’d make herself insane before West Coast business hours. And she hadn’t breathed out a single breath of either worry or anguish, damn it. The hour passed slowly. Waiting on bad news was lonely work.
After class, Becca squeezed her elbow. “I’m going to Ohio with the team tonight. Nate is flying in from Silicon Valley to see the game.”
“Oh,” Georgia said, still too caught up in her own misery to really hear whatever Becca was saying.
“Look,” Becca said suddenly, grabbing Georgia by both shoulders. “I’m sorry to do this, buddy, but it’s time I staged an intervention. I’m calling an emergency meeting at noon today,” she said.
“Wait, really?” Georgia squeaked. “For who?”
Becca’s eyes grew round. “You and me! That’s who.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a freaking zombie and it’s driving me insane. Be at the usual meeting spot. Noon sharp.” Becca marched off to start her work day, leaving Georgia alone with her worries.
Three hours later, Georgia entered the nail salon and made her way to the back, where Becca waited in a pedicure chair. “Did you pick your color?” her roommate asked.
Georgia held up the random bottle of pink polish she’d chosen at the front desk. She didn’t care as much about nail polish as Becca. But in this neighborhood, there were very few places they could go at lunch without fear of being overheard by others in the organization. The nail salon was a safe place to gossip. None of the Brooklyn Bruisers would be caught dead in here.
“Remember—this is an intervention.” Becca took the bottle from her hand and set it down out of sight. Then she passed Georgia a different one.
Georgia squinted at it. “Purple?”
“It’s a subtle purple,” Becca argued. “You always choose the same shade of pink.”
“So?”
“It’s so safe. Be daring.”
“Wait. Did you just dare me to use purple?”
“I double dog dare you.”
“Uh-huh. Does this mean I can dare you to come along next time I go paragliding?”
Becca opened her mouth and then closed it again. “Would you like the pink polish back?”
Gotcha. “No. I’ll go with the purple. But I’m just saying—fearlessness comes in a few different colors.”
“Touché. I’m going with one of these two blues. What do you think?” Her roommate held up two awful shades.
Georgia kicked off her shoes and removed her socks. “I think you should choose whichever one makes you happy.”
“But they make me happy in different ways,” her friend said, staring at the bottles. “But enough about my issues. What the hell is on your mind? Because I know it isn’t nail polish.”
Georgia waited while the nail technician finished setting up her station. Then she climbed into the seat next to Becca and dropped her bare feet into the warm water. The nail technician gave her ankle a pat and then went to collect her tools. “Can I ask you a question?” Georgia said, dropping her voice. “If you heard that Leo was getting traded, would you tell me?”
Becca blinked. “Shit. Is that why Hugh has been on the phone with Vancouver?”
Georgia’s heart tumbled down a flight of stairs. “Damn it.”
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. Are you sure they’re looking at him? It could be anyone.”
Georgia nodded, miserable. “I overheard something I shouldn’t have.”
“No wonder you’re as jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” Becca patted her hand. “What does Leo say?”
“I haven’t told him! Publicists who leak trades? They get fired. And even worse—I haven’t dealt with it well. I told him we need to cool it off.”
“You are an idiot,” Becca said immediately.
“Tell me what you really think,” Georgia muttered, making the other nail technicians laugh.
“No, but you are. Because Leo has probably thought about this already. Maybe he has a contingency plan for this. Or maybe he’d like the opportunity to tell you how he feels.”
Georgia groaned. “But I can’t tell him. If I tell him, it endangers both our jobs. I wish I’d never overheard it in the first place. It’s eating me up. I look at him now and just think of how hard it would be to get over him a second time.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“He just RSVPed to the next team benefit. His date is someone named Honey Cove.”
“What?” Becca yelped. “That sounds like a prostitute.”
“I know. She’s going to be worse than the last one. I just know it.”
Becca giggled, then clamped a hand over her mouth, and the nail techs all clucked their tongues in sympathy. Becca wiped her eyes. “Karma is a bitch, Georgia.”
“Thanks for your unwavering support.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong. But the last time you pushed Leo away, you regretted it later.”
“Your point being . . . ?”
Her roommate leaned over and gave her shoulder a shove. “Don’t be thick. If Leo gets traded tomorrow, you’ll regret being cold. And if he doesn’t, you’re acting like a freak for no reason. Miss Honey Cove wouldn’t be on the guest list without your help.”
It was hard to argue with that logic. Except for one problem. “But every time I look at him, or let his mom hug me, I want to puke from nerves. And what if he survives these trade discussions, and then they start up again after the play-offs? It never ends.”
“So you just deal. The next team that’s interested could be the Rangers. They’re across the river. Don’t borrow problems when they’re falling from the sky like a springtime downpour.”