Confessions of a Twenty-Something City Girl

A Birthday Surprise

I race down the hallway toward Conference Room B, my laptop clutched under one arm and my phone barely balanced in the other. It buzzes repeatedly, and I steal a glance at the screen. A text from Priya lights up.

GIRL. Is this your boss / secret lover guy!? Omg, he is hot! 🔥

My heart skips a beat, and I tap the TikTok link she sent. A sped-up version of Ariana Grande's "Dangerous Woman" blares from the video, and an edit with footage of Noah plays in front of me. I'm momentarily captivated by the montage, but I quickly snap out of it, frantically lowering the volume. My face heats up, and I pray no one notices my distracted flush while I type a rapid reply.

Short answer – yes. I need you to come with me to drinks for my editor's birthday tonight at Barney's Beanery. Everyone from the office will be there – including Westbrook. I have so much to fill you in on. Can you make it?

I hurry into the conference room, my eyes scanning for a seat. The only one available is right next to Breaker.

"Ah, Kingston. You've decided to join us," Conrad says, a teasing edge to his voice as he looks up from his notes.

"Thank you so much for your patience," I say, dropping my things on the table and sliding into my seat. I glance up and catch Breaker's piercing yet delighted gaze.

"Baby K!" Jamie, the Senior Sportswriter, interjects with a grin. "We were just going over next week's assignments. You've got some amazing opportunities lined up. You knocked it out of the park with that Russ article. Congrats!" He punctuates his praise with a fist bump.

"And the nickname lives on," I reply with a smile. "Thanks for believing in me, Jamie. That was all you!"

"We're a team, that's what we do here!" Jamie says, throwing an arm around Breaker in a playful gesture. "We can also thank Russ for bringing this stud into our headquarters."

"Hi again," Breaker says, his eyes twinkling as he flashes us a smile that's literally made for the cover of a magazine.

"Kingston, here's your list of assignments for next week," Conrad says, sliding a printed sheet across the table. "I think you'll be particularly pleased with the top one."

My eyes widen in disbelief as an uncontrollable grin spreads across my face. The paper in my hand trembles slightly as I read: "Interview with Shohei Ohtani." I blink, re-read the lines, and let out an incredulous laugh. "Shohei Ohtani! The pitcher who just signed with the Dodgers for $700 million? Shotime? This is the best day of my life!"

The room bursts into laughter, and I can barely contain my excitement. My cheeks flush with exhilaration, and a surge of energy courses through me as I picture the interview.

"Sorry, gentlemen, but an interview with Shotime takes precedence. I'm voting to shadow Kingston next week," Breaker remarks, his hand sweeping through his thick locks as his beanie makes its way from his head to his pocket.

"Touché, man," Wyatt laughs.

"Kingston, exchange info with Breaker for your ride-along on Monday," Conrad instructs.

My cheeks heat up again. A day alone with Breaker? Noah is going to flip.

"Ride-along?" I ask, my voice tinged with both intrigue and a hint of trepidation.

"Yes, you'll be interviewing Shohei at Dodger Stadium," Conrad says, a note of finality in his voice. "You can meet Breaker here first and show him the ropes." He then turns his attention back to the other sportswriters, who are engaged in side conversations about their assignments.

Breaker's thick accent carries a playful inflection as he slides his phone toward me, a provocative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Here you go. Enter your number."