f i f t e e n

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"Miss Kiara, why do I gotta go to this stupid dinner?" Malcolm fiddled with the tie that seemed was wrapped too tightly around his neck.

I waved his hands away, and mine quickly swooped in and stole their place, my fingers working at the knot. "Because Seattle always throws a Thanksgiving dinner and invites influential people in the community." Once it appeared that his tie was resting more comfortably, I retreated my hands back to my body. "There's grown men who would die to have our seats at the table. Be grateful."

Malcolm Simmons was a gifted shooting guard for sure, the way he's able to work the court making it look like he's been playing for a lifetime. That also distracts people—me included—from the fact that he was only sixteen years old at the end of the day. The one thing that always pulls me back to reality is speaking with him on car rides like these, where we're off to an event that he doesn't want to go to because he'd rather ball with his friends or be on the game.

"I'm grateful for every opportunity that God has given me to let me be where I am today, Miss Kiara." He took a beat to release a sigh and suck his teeth. "Sometimes I just wanna spend time with my family, though. It's the night before Thanksgiving, and I'm going to some dumbass dinner!"

"I know you think this dinner is stupid, and I wish that I could let you sit this one out, but we have to get your face out there, Malcolm. My agency assigned me to you so I could do that and help you land a manager."

"Do I even need a manager?" he grumbled. His frame sunk into the backseat of the limo as best it could, seeing as his legs didn't leave much room for movement.

"Yes, you need a manager," I responded. Air blew from my nose in amusement as I looked at him, his demeanor right now reminding me of Jevon. "You like Puma, right?" He side-eyed me yet nodded in confirmation. "If you had a manager, they might be able to spin you a deal with Puma."

His posture straightened almost immediately as I piqued his interest. "That could happen?"

The driver rolled down the partition, interrupting what I was going to say to inform us that it was nearly our turn to walk the red carpet.

"It could happen." I snapped up my phone from the seat next to me and grabbed up my clutch, tucking my phone away inside. I ran my hand over the slick of my bun, assuring that there were no bumps, the car door being pulled open from the outside by the driver, Liam.

As the once muted flashes of light struck my vision with intensity, I felt my heart rate speed up only slightly. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth to calm the nerves that crept up. It was going to take some getting used to to be the one to reassure another at these events, rather than be the person who needs the reassurance.

"If we keep you looking sharp and you keep making yourself look good, Puma will be begging for you," I spoke after stepping out of the car after Malcolm. I gently adjusted his navy blue button-down collar as I requested he tuck in the ducktail sticking out from the back of his pants. "Now, let's eat this free food and get you home to your family."

It was the few weeks after the Thanksgiving dinner that were the most peaceful. Work had died down substantially as the holiday season kicked into full swing, it also meaning finals time for Malcolm. Instead of getting him heaps of exposure by going to event after event, I suggested he buckle down and focus his efforts on his upcoming finals and spending time with his family and friends. It was not without a surprising effort of pushback from Malcolm, however, seeing as he wanted to get his face out there so he could get that Puma deal. When I realized that those were his worries, I laughed and told him to keep going on live for his ten thousand followers to see.

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