Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
She looked sweet enough, but Jeremy knew what sort of people Coach Wymack recruited for his line. More than that he remembered Jean saying Renee was the one who’d taken him from Edgar Allan after Riko beat Jean within an inch of his life. Jeremy wasn’t sure how literally he meant it, but he finally hit play to hear her answers.
She existed in jarring opposition to her teammates, reflecting on the upcoming match with caution and a gentle concern for the Ravens’ questionable wellbeing. Since Andrew refused to say a word, no matter how often the interviewer tried to include him, she was forced to handle the entire bit with unflagging patience.
“One last thing, before you go,” the reporter said, “though I’m not sure you can help me with it. Neil mentioned a rumor we haven’t heard yet, that Jean might have sustained additional injuries last spring that weren’t reported. Perhaps he’s said the same to you?” Renee’s smile faded, and she studied the man with serene calm. The reporter allowed her a few seconds to respond before trying, “We’re just trying to sort out where this gossip might be stemming from.”
Renee chose her side with an easy, “Insider knowledge. Jean spent time with us before moving to California, but that is as much as I can tell you. Even if it wasn’t inappropriate for me to discuss Jean’s injuries without his consent, we promised President Andritch our discretion on the matter.” Jeremy didn’t hear what Andrew said, but Renee laughed. He tried replaying the part twice with the volume turned up, but Andrew’s muttered interjection was for Renee’s ears only. Jeremy gave up and let it play.
Renee smiled at the reporter, but this time it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sorry, but our hands are tied. You will have to ask Edgar Allan for the rest of the story.”
“They are notoriously hard to get a comment from,” the reporter said dryly.
“Sometimes they are,” she agreed. “Perhaps you are trying the wrong Ravens.”
It was obvious he wouldn’t get better out of her, so he wrapped it up with quick thanks and sent the pair on their way. The last few minutes of the video cut back to the studio, where two men dissected the Foxes’ answers. Jeremy didn’t need to listen to the wrap up, so he closed the video and pushed his laptop to the back corner of his desk.
A few minutes later he picked his phone up and started a new message to Laila: “She’s pretty, right?” He studied it for a moment, thumb hovering the button that would send it, and erased the last bit. A second later he deleted the rest. Cat had already weighed in on Renee’s favorable looks, and it was irrelevant either way. Saying such a thing unprompted would only get Laila thinking, and Jeremy didn’t want her asking questions when he genuinely didn’t mean anything by it in the first place.
He was saved by a knock, and he looked over to see William in his bedroom doorway. Jeremy checked the time and said, “Late for you to be working, isn’t it?”
“Just wrapping up a few items before I call it a night.”
William followed Jeremy’s beckon into the room and offered a manila envelope. “This is the preliminary list of French instructors who speak with the Marseille accent. The most experienced is overseas and arranges lessons over... Skype?” William leaned forward to check his notes over Jeremy’s shoulder. “The one in San Francisco has eight years of experience and is also willing to teach you over the phone.
“The last has no teaching experience but is both local and a native speaker, if you prefer a more informal setting face-to-face. I’ve attached copies of their profiles and, for the certified instructors, select reviews from other students. If none of them are to your satisfaction I will continue the search.”
“No, this is great, thank you,” Jeremy said, lingering over the last. “Chances of Mom challenging the charges when she sees Leslie’s spreadsheet?”
William gave it some thought before saying, “Middling. For obvious reasons she would prefer you study Latin again.” He answered Jeremy’s grimace with a wan smile that was quick to fade. William studied him with such a serious look Jeremy felt eight years old again. He realized too late he was fidgeting with the folder and forced himself to stillness. “French has its uses and appeal of course, but this is very specific dialect. It is public knowledge your newest teammate hails from Marseille. You know your mother does not approve of him.”
“She doesn’t even know him. She’s been taken in by a smear campaign.”
“You deny his criminal affiliations, then,” William said.
“No,” Jeremy admitted, “but why is he responsible for his parents’ crimes? He’s been dealt a rotten hand in life, but he’s made it this far because he refuses to give up. Every single day he puts in the work to get better and be better, and no one seems to care because healing journeys don’t sell as many newspapers.”