Still, a sudden wave of apprehension washed over her. “Where is Wendell now?” she asked.
Marcus mumbled the answer.
“What did you say?”
“You’re going to be mad at me.”
“Just tell me.” She clenched her fists, already knowing the answer.
“I gave him my extra guest pass.”
“Okay, we need to get you examined by a doctor, and then if you can’t play, it will be done officially.”
She texted Dylan. Found him. Problem. He’s sick.
Her phone buzzed, and she scanned Dylan’s reply. On my way.
She texted back. Meet at entrance to pavilions.
“Come on.” She stood and pulled on Marcus’s arm.
He sluggishly walked with her to the entrance to the tent. “Are you okay?” she asked him.
“I’m nauseous and—”
“There you are!” Wendell called out.
Olivia glanced in the direction of the other man’s voice. Unlike his cousin, Wendell wasn’t dressed for a VIP event. He wore cut-off jean shorts and an ill-fitting football jersey, too big on his lean frame. He wasn’t good-looking like Marcus nor was he mild-mannered. Even if Marcus’s clothes were disheveled, he knew he was supposed to be properly attired. He represented the team. Wendell represented Marcus and, by extension, the Thunder.
One look at Wendell and Olivia could see the leashed anger beneath the surface. She’d thought it the first time they’d met at a Thunder practice he’d attended, and she noticed it again now.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, cuz.” Wendell slapped Marcus on the back.
Marcus shook his head at the sight of the other man. “You promised to walk around, check things out, and go.” He glanced at Olivia. “He swore this was the last time he’d be around. He’s going home tomorrow, aren’t you, Wendell?”
The mean gleam in the other man’s eyes said otherwise.
“Where are you two off to?” Wendell asked, ignoring the question.
Olivia stepped up to answer. “I’m taking him to see a doctor. And you need to get out of here too.”
Wendell’s eyes narrowed. “Who do you think you are, telling me to leave?” he asked in a loud voice.
Olivia winced as people around them turned to look.
“Marcus is my family. You have no right to tell me what to do!” Wendell continued ranting.
“Come on, man. Don’t do this here.” Marcus put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder.
Wendell shrugged it off, pushing at Marcus so the drugged player stumbled. He caught himself and stood up straighter, staring at his relative, surprise and hurt in his gaze.
Poor Marcus, Olivia thought. He was too naïve to be in this world, let alone deal one-on-one with a man like Wendell.
“Hey.” Dylan walked over, stepping between the two men. “What’s going on?”
“That bitch thinks she can tell me what to do.” Wendell pointed a finger at Olivia.
“As the executive director of the team, she can,” Dylan informed him.