When Michael had introduced Kat to Kristen, he’d left rather rapidly. After Kat had told the assistant she needed a cab, Kristen had immediately asked if she wanted to stay for lunch, as Aileen was also coming in to work on schedules for interviews. They’d welcome the company, she swore.
Let’s see… eating lunch alone in my boring apartment in a city where I know almost nobody or make new friends and have some company?
No brainer.
Kat had the feeling Kristen was about ten years older than her twenty-six but had no problem relating to her. Aileen was closer in age, in her estimation, though she’d achieved a lot in the last few years in her career. Despite the differences, they had immediately fallen into an easy conversation.
“Who likes working out?” Aileen sighed and dipped a fry into some ranch dressing. “I mean, Killian runs, which is obviously for his job and stuff. But I don’t get it.”
“Neither do I,” Kristen said with a smile. “Though I wouldn’t mind the perks of having a nice body from working out. Why can’t I have it both ways?”
“Laziness and rock-hard abs?” Aileen ducked the grape Kristen flicked at her.
“It’s a release. I’ve always done better with the physical than the mental. I was never a heavy lifter when it came to academics,” Kat admitted. “Some subjects were fine, but I struggled in a few other areas in high school. I always passed, thanks to the power of athletics, but it didn’t encourage me to reach higher up the academic ladder.”
“It’s a problem, passing athletes just so they stay eligible for competition. It really does them a disservice,” Aileen murmured, then looked stricken. “Sorry, that totally came out wrong. I—”
“It’s a problem,” Kat agreed, smiling sadly. “Not that I think I’ll ever need to know the Pythagorean theorem by heart, but sometimes I wish my teachers had pushed me harder rather than just letting me skate by. As a high schooler, though, it always felt like a stroke of luck.”
Both other ladies made sounds of quiet understanding as they continued to eat in the small conference room.
“So what story are you working on now, Aileen?” Kat asked after a moment.
“Doing a little sociological digging on the difference in experience from players who come from middle-and upper-middle-class families to those who come from disadvantaged ones.” Aileen took a bite of her club sandwich, chewed, then sipped her soda. “You’d think that once they get here, having signed million-dollar contracts, they’d all be on even ground again. Right? I mean, nobody’s poor once you get to the NFL. There are salary requirements, after all.”
“Doesn’t help those who don’t know what to do with it,” Kristen said, sounding sad.
“Exactly. Money is not the great equalizer.” Aileen toasted Kristen with her cup. “So I’m doing a story on several guys who come from varied backgrounds and how that shaped their current experience playing football, as well as their plans for the future post-NFL. Not everyone will be a Bobcat, of course. I’ll have to do some traveling and such. But it’s such an interesting piece to dig into.”
Kat nodded. “I totally get it. I’m curious to see it.”
“You know,” Aileen said after a moment, propping her chin on her hand, “I’ve never done anything about tennis players. I barely know anything about the sport. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t know about you at all until Kristen introduced us.”
She started to give the safe response—the response she’d been conditioned to give since she went pro—but stopped. And went for honest. “Most people don’t know about me. And that sucks, because I’m good.”
Aileen blinked, then burst out laughing. Kristen snickered into her soup.
“Oh my God, that was great.” Aileen laughed more and wiped at the corners of her eyes. Her soft red hair fluttered like feathers around her chin as she shook her head. “Priceless. You’re so right. I love it.”
Kristen started to add something, but both her and Aileen’s phones pinged with a notification at the same time. They each looked down at their cells, then both swiped almost in sync with each other.
“Wow, someone left me out of the group text,” Kat joked, taking a bite of the pickle spear Aileen had given her from her sandwich platter.
“It’s a Bobcat news alert,” Kristen explained. “Basically just like a Google alert, but it sends push notifications to our phone whenever… whoops.” She grinned, then turned her phone screen to show Kat. “Not just Bobcats this time.”
Kat squinted at the tiny print of the phone while Aileen read out loud, “Tennis player trounces Bobcats’ center in fitness competition.”
“What?” Kat asked, reaching for Kristen’s phone before she thought twice about grabbing a cell phone out of the hands of a woman whom she barely knew. “That was nothing! We were just doing burpees, for fun, as just a silly competition. This makes it sound… this is stupid.”