“I thought you’d never ask.” No smile crosses his face, but he pushes his shoulders back and any shadows of irritation still lingering on his face are replaced by pure determination.

And I can work with that.

Seven

In the two weeks since our first meeting at Quinton’s house, the probability that I will become the newest hostess at HERS has decreased exponentially.

Whereas when I was first assigned this “project,” I was one hundred percent certain I’d be heading to the unemployment office at the end of our four months together, now I’m only ninety percent sure.

But hey, progress is progress! Am I right?

I mean, yeah, Quinton is still covering the League’s logo on his jersey as soon as his cleats touch the field and is definitely still kneeling. And fans are starting to become restless, so their reactions are growing before every game. Plus Glenn Chandler, who is now in full-on campaign mode, has made Quinton a crucial part of his speeches. Every single night, my phone starts to go crazy with alerts showing me the newest YouTube video of Glenn Chandler standing behind a podium in whatever new city he’s traveled to, attacking Quinton. I especially like when he looked directly into the camera and said, “This spoiled child has the audacity to go out on a football field, in stadiums that taxes funded, and disrespect our flag, our troops, and our men and women in blue!”

Those are fun.

And his supporters are eating it up. As soon as he’s finished speaking, there’s an endless influx of tweets about Quinton’s disrespect to our country and how he needs to learn his place. Apparently, if you have a job in sports, it doesn’t matter if you’re an American citizen or not, you are not allowed to have an opinion. #ShutUpAndPlay has been trending all week long. And while I still don’t know where exactly I belong in this movement, I get pissed every time I see the way they twist his motives into something else completely.

On the bright side, we have made a ton of progress on his foundation and the launch party is shaping up to be pretty phenomenal if I may say so myself.

“I’m thinking balloons. Lots and lots of balloons.” I look at Quinton over the top of my computer, the screen filled with balloon displays by a local company.

“Balloons?” Quinton quirks his left eyebrow up, something I’ve noticed he always does when he thinks I’m being absurd. “Like a kid’s birthday party?”