Which is honestly a unique circumstance because unless someone follows professional basketball closely and knows the sport, I’m not as recognizable as my players are, even with all the news media coverage the past two years.
This woman, however, does a double-take, searching my face for clues, but doesn’t seem to identify me.
She wiggles her cup between us. “But I think I spilled most of my coffee like a klutz. Could I interest you in joining me?”
She peers around me at the coffee shop on the corner, two doors down.
I follow her gaze, glancing behind me.
“I really wish I could. Maybe another time. Unfortunately, I have a meeting to get to.”
She looks disappointed and something about her expression has me almost, for the first time in a very long time, yearning to sit down and get to know this woman. To spend time with her, even if it’s just over coffee.
“Oh, that’s a shame. Because I would have liked to talk basketball with you.”
I quirk my eyebrow skyward. “So, you do recognize me.”
“Yeah,” she adds sheepishly. “You’re Marek Talbert, the GM of the Pilots. Right?”
“Yes, I am. And you are?” I reach out my hand to introduce myself. She accepts it and our palms meet, and I swear lightning strikes at my feet.
“My name is Harper.”
She doesn’t offer me a last name which is just as well, I guess. Although she’s utterly captivating, there’s no reason to prolong this conversation any further.
“Nice to meet you, Harper. It sounds like you’re a fan of the Pilots. If you’d like, I could put you on the list for two VIP tickets at one of our home games later this fall when the new season starts up.”
Harper’s head jerks back. “You’d do that for me?”
I chuckle. “I guess that’s a perk of accidentally bumping into the GM of the team.”
She laughs. “Well, now I really will need to buy you coffee as thanks.”
“That’d be nice. I hope we can run into each other again in the near future. But again, I’m happy to have tickets for you. Here’s my office line.” I hand her a generic business card we use for the front offices. It lists just our main number and general email box. “Just contact my admin when the time comes.”
I check my watch and I have ten minutes to get to the arena from here. Possible, but I’ll have to sprint to my car.
“Well, I really do need to get going…my meeting starts at eight.”
She waves her hand in a flourish. “Of course. I, uh…well…”
She hesitates and averts her eyes as if she wants to say something more but doesn’t. Maybe she wants an autograph. Not many fans care about getting my signature. I’m not the crowd-pleaser. It’s the players that are on tap for those occasions.
I wait for a second, wondering if she’ll say anything more, but she doesn’t.
“Okay, then. Take care of yourself, Harper. Go get out of the rain and grab yourself some more coffee.”