emmy

“Is this dress cute or do I look like I’m trying to be a Love Island contestant?” She holds up a two piece, an olive green top with a matching mini skirt that could make her look like she’s about to deliver an incredible recoupling speech.

You hold back a laugh. “Okay it is a little ‘can I pull you for a chat’ coded but, it’s a trip to the Caribbean. Please wear it. And…” you step around her to grab a long aqua blue dress that always made her look like a mermaid. “…you should definitely bring this one for dinner to ring in the new year.” No pun intended.

“Are you sure? You don’t think it’ll be too much?”

“Definitely not,” you smiled, taking the hanger off the rack in her closet. “It’s cute and fun and perfect for Seafire. I heard it was one of the nicest steakhouses in the area so this is a good choice.”

Nia stares at the dress and looks at her suitcase. She grabs a garment bag and tucks the dress and a pair of platform heels, sticking with the beach vibe and you can see the moment so clearly. Brandon on one knee, Nia completely caught off guard and the rest is history. You’re just happy to be a small part of this. And when Brandon texted you at 7PM on New Years Eve that he and Nia were heading to dinner, there was a small lump in your throat that you swallowed heading into the Olsen home. Luke looked over at you before ringing the doorbell. “Everything okay?”

You nodded, eyes slightly welled up with tears. “He’s really doing it.”

“That’s amazing,” he beams back, genuinely excited. You’d let him in on the plans last week before they left and you were pretty sure you heard him on the phone with the hotel concierge at the place they were staying at, discussing their champagne options. “I know Brandon’s probably shitting himself right about now.”

“He definitely is. But it’s gonna be good night, great way to start off the year I think.”

Luke hums in agreement, knocking on the door twice before his best friend comes into view, arms open. “Hey! You guys made it.” He hugs Luke like he hasn’t seen him in a year when in reality they had lunch together two days ago. You only know that because when Greg came with him to a Hornets game a while back, he made sure to tell you they have weekly lunch dates. “How are you, buddy?”

“Great,” Luke responds calmly, waiting for your welcome hug to be over so he can step into the home after you, “where’s uh—where’s my guy?”

“Oh, you mean Tucker? No worries he’s at Kara’s parents’ lake house with the kids. Won’t be anybody pinning you to the wall tonight, unless you guys are into that I mean it’s your business.” The last part was more said in your direction and you just laughed as Luke held your hand through the Olsen home. Kara had been a friend for the last year, you ran in similar circles so you saw each other often and now with your…arrangement with Luke, you felt comfortable reigning in the end of the year with Kara especially now that Nia was in a different time zone.

And besides, you’d already shared a bed and exchanged Christmas presents with the guy, you could survive a dinner party, drinks and some dancing with his friends for one night.

Some of the other guests have already gathered in the dining room, a few people you recognize, a sports psychologist Michael, who Luke worked with a lot after his concussions, and Michael’s wife Cori who shoots you a warm smile. “Well if it isn’t one of my favorite faces of Charlotte sports,” she stands, “tough loss today.”

“God I know,” you scoffed, taking a seat next to her. “Two game losing streak heading into a three game road trip is less than ideal.”

Kara materializes seemingly out of nowhere with a drink in her hand. “Today’s game is exactly why we have a martini bar,” she nods over to the kitchen counter where the hired bartender for the night is already mixing drinks for an older married couple Kara befriended at a charity event.

“You’re a genius,” you muse, heading for the bar.

Between that and the shrimp cocktails, honey lemon chicken scampi, prosciutto wrapped asparagus, the Caesar salad and the two dessert options—Biscoff crumble cheesecake or death by chocolate cake. You got the chocolate cake and Luke got the tiramisu so you could share both of them. The best part wasn’t even the cakes, although both were incredible, it was seeing Luke in such a relaxed element. Seeing his friendship with Greg in person was even better now that you’d gotten to know him and appreciate his humor and carefree nature. Kara even moved away from Greg at one point to sit with you because Luke and Greg would not stop giggling.

“I’m so glad you’re here, it’s been hell third wheeling with these two.” She sighs.

“I can tell,” you affirmed her, glancing over with a laugh as you watched them talk like no one else was in the room. It was honestly cute.

Kara asked you and Cori if you wanted to head out to the living room which had been turned into her version of disco. Silver balloons shaped like disco balls, a photobooth, a dancefloor, champagne flutes and fun 2026 themed glasses, hats and those ridiculous headbands, one you’d be going home with, with no memory of how it ended up in your possession. Somewhere between the photobooth and the karaoke machine, you lost Cori and it was just you and Kara again.

“So…how’s it going with your golden retriever?”

You let out a laugh, not denying her sentiment one bit. “It still kills me that your German Sheppard had him pinned against the wall. He said that’s the only time he’s been overpowered like that.”

“Tucker’s funny.”

“And he’s apparently got a thing against human golden retrievers.” You note, still as amused now as you were when Luke told you the story the first time. “But…he’s better than I thought. I know you’ve been calling him the perfect bachelor or whatever but he’s one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met—”

“Hey, there you are.” Luke says, looking relieved. “Thought I lost you there for a second.”

“You were talking to your BFF, I didn’t wanna interrupt,” you tease.

“You can always interrupt,” he says, his smooth voice sends goosebumps all over your arms and you’re so glad the long sleeves of your shirt keep you from telling on yourself. “I don’t mind.” His lips curve into a soft smile and you can’t help but get lost in his gaze for just a second before you hear Greg say that he and Luke are doing a duet of Don’t Stop Believin’. Of course two former jocks would select the most cliche song to woo the crowd. Greg also probably chose it to entice everyone to sing along rather than focus on their nonexistent vocals.

Kara had previously joked about feeling like a third wheel around Luke and Greg but whatever she just witnessed was about a million times worse. “Luke I think you better get up there.”

“Duty calls,” you echo and he laughs before giving you one more tender glance. It was almost as if he was trying to say something important, you just couldn’t tell what.

Then the opening chords of the song echoed through the speakers and you wondered how strong those drinks were at dinner or if the guys were just old and it was harder to keep up with their past liquor intake. The scene in front of you was oddly funny, people quickly joined in, knowing the words to the classic anthem and a small part of you wondered how often they’d actually done this. It wasn’t like him to be the center of attention, as long as you’d known him he shied away from compliments and praise but with Greg by his side he allowed himself to be more carefree, more silly. Not in a childish way, he just seemed comfortable.

You locked eyes with him and helped belt out the chorus to end the song, ironically also holding onto this feeling that you were doing something right, something way outside the parameters of your little date pact but then again if you were being honest with yourself, the rules had gone out the window weeks ago.

If this bubble you’d been in with him was going to expire eventually, why not make the most of all the time you had left?

A round of lemon drop shots came out on a silver platter after the guys stepped off their makeshift stage and you cheers-ed to their performance.

“It was a once in a lifetime show, that’s for damn sure,” you said setting your shot glass down.

“Meaning we hope to never see it again,” Kara adds in with a smile, one of her hands finding Greg’s back. She doesn’t look at all surprised that he’s sweaty, having put his all into the song.

Luke, prone to perspiration actually looks a lot better than his friend does. “I know myself. And my limits, had to take it easy today.”

Greg heads upstairs to change while you and Luke play a few rounds of Uno with Michael, Cori, Kara and a few others. Then there’s another round of lemon drops for everyone and by 11:20, people are dancing. On the muted tv is the Times Square New Year’s Eve celebration with the time displayed in the corner of the screen while Uptown Funk plays.

A mini Bruno Mars binge takes pretty much all of your energy and you realize that not only is it warm with all these bodies in the house but you’re slightly buzzed and need some fresh air before your head starts pounding. You carefully slip through the crowd and step out to the terrace. Not even five minutes later you hear the sliding door open and close. You don’t even need to turn around to know who followed you out here.

“You need a water?” Luke’s voice is quiet compared to the background noises from the music and the city. You nod and he twists open the cap before handing it to you.

“Thanks.” He nods and watches you take a few sips before handing it back, leaning over the railing.

“Everything okay?”

You nod, a smile forming against your will. “Five minutes!” You hear someone yell from inside. Neither of you had noticed it was already that late.

“I’m good, I just needed space from…the mosh pit.”

He laughs, stepping towards you to look at the city lights and really take in the subtle peace that’s overtaken everything else.

“Tonight’s been fun,” you tell him cutting into the silence. “I’m glad you brought me.”

“And I’m glad you said yes. Wouldn’t want you to miss an exclusive performance. We rehearsed for weeks.”

“Oh I could tell, you guys really put your backs into it.”

“Exactly,” he notes, reaching for his shoulder. “I’m gonna be sore tomorrow.”

You reach up and squeeze his trap muscle, “right there? Yeah that is pretty tight.”

Another voice yells “2 minutes!” but you don’t want to head back inside, your other hand settled on the other shoulder, gently squeezing the firmness through his t-shirt as people shuffle around inside. His hands gently settle around your waist.

“There’s this tradition…” you start, suddenly feeling a weight sitting on your chest. “…this thing couples do at midnight.”

“And what does this tradition entail?”

You look up at him, one hand sliding over so your thumb can trace the line of his jaw. “I think we’re supposed to kiss?”

“Really? Hm.” He’s doing his best impression of someone who’s confused, until a look of satisfaction blooms all over his facial features. “We don’t wanna break tradition, do we?”

The ten…nine…eight…seven…is both the fastest and slowest countdown you’ve ever heard. Luke is smiling and when he hears one he leans down, one hand on your waist the other resting at your neck helping your tilt your head up and his lips are on yours. He tastes like a lemon drop and a little bit of leftover whiskey from whatever drinks he and Greg ordered before dinner. The kiss is both gentle and firm like he’s been thinking about this for a while and is savoring the moment as best as he can without getting ahead of himself. Your hand that was on his jaw hooks around your other arm and you’re subconsciously pulling him in closer to deepen the kiss, and he lets out a satisfied hum, mouth still moving in tandem with yours as if you’ve done this a million times. It’s almost scary how quickly you’ve found your groove.

You give him another peck before detaching just a touch. “Happy New Year,” you whisper against his lips.

Luke leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips, then another against the corner of your mouth before smiling. “Yeah it is. A happy new year. A really happy one.”

“Oh my god let’s go back inside.” He heads in behind you, a hand on your back and a permanent grin on his face.

The two of you are hit with a wave of warmth from entering the house and immediately being handed a champagne flute and a wave of hugs and excited chants from anyone you crossed paths with.

“Hey man.” Greg practically sings, patting Luke on the back. “Happy New Year, buddy.”

His friend’s eyes are gleaming, this weirdly comforting twinkle there that he doesn’t think he’s ever seen. Not in the 14 years he’d known him. But, he decided not to say anything and maybe ask when the room wasn’t filled with half drunk parents who would certainly regret these decisions in the morning when their kids burst into their rooms at 7AM. And he loved Tate, TJ and Talbot more than anything in the world but he was glad they weren’t coming home until tomorrow afternoon so he could sleep in. Surely Kara had the same idea because he saw her knock back another glass of champagne and pull you and Luke towards the photobooth, immediately calling for him.

“Get in! We’re taking pictures. First day of the year, I wanna remember this with some of the best people I know.”

You all squeezed in tight, talking through poses during the first set of pictures, eventually settling for funny faces, those ridiculous silver 2026 glasses. Then there was a peace sign picture because…of course. And you turned around and kissed Luke again as the camera flashed to round out your photo strip. This kiss was much softer than the last, just as good. You would’ve kept going if you weren’t back to back with Kara and the last thing you wanted tonight was more questions. “Stop doing that.” You told Luke once it was just you and him in the booth.

“What am I doing?” He said it easily, thinking you were talking about the way he was caressing your thigh.

“That thing you’re doing with your face, stop it.”

He smirks, resting his head on your shoulder. “I’m a really happy guy celebrating the start of the year. Sue me.”

“If you keep looking like you’ve been drinking straight Everclear for the last hour, I might have to.”

“Everclear?”

“It was the first thing that had the most alcohol content I could think off so yeah…stand up Everclear, you’re drunk off one kiss.”

“Two.” He holds up his index and middle finger. Luke sighs, tapping your leg so you can get out of his lap, fingers laced in yours as you stand. “Are you good if we head out? I’m kind of tired of mingling.”

“Yes please my head needs to see a pillow. You’re lucky I lasted until midnight.” You step out of the photo booth and hold the curtain open for him to duck out behind you with his phone in hand and the Uber app already open.

“I am lucky,” he emphasizes. “Think I may have mentioned that.”

“Oh you did. Several times.”

Thankfully, most of the guests had already gone home so you thanked Greg and Kara for the incredible party and slid into the back seat of your waiting car, already half asleep when you got to Luke’s house.

Life did not slow down one bit after the 1st. The Hornets beat the defending champs 4 days later, in OKC which was probably the highlight of the season so far. They then immediately lost by one point to the Raptors at home and the 13-24 record and the tunnel fits and Tiktok trends seemed a bit futile. At least for the time being you could distract yourself from all things work related because the Panthers were in the playoffs for the first time in eight years and hosting the game. The city was basically one huge party.

They were calling pregame events the tailgate of the century.

Fans had been waiting for this day since the team clinched a playoff berth in their win against the Saints on the 4th, many had probably camped out waiting for the festivities to start. You on the other hand were giving yourself a pep talk to bite your tongue when you had to meet ‘you know who.’

“Superman and Clark Kent in the building man. I mean shit, we’re in the presence of real greatness.” Will shakes his head, adjusting his windbreaker even though there was absolutely nothing wrong with it.

Salem rolls her eyes, “why are you acting like you’re gonna meet your girlfriend’s parents for the first time.”

“I mean this with all due respect,” Brandon starts, looking in your sister’s direction, “he’s probably more nervous now than he was meeting your family.”

“Oh definitely,” she says, not even pretending to be offended.

You sighed, trying not to roll your eyes. You’d promised Luke you’d be civil as long as he kept the interaction brief.

Cam walked on stage and the crowd roared, reminiscing on the good ol days when he was the MVP of the league leading them to the promised land with his seemingly superhuman strength and refusal to be brought down easily. Too bad they never actually won the big game. He probably would’ve been an even worse person if he dove on that fumble.

“Did you help him with this fit?” Nia asked as the crowd got even louder when Luke was announced and pulled Cam in for a hug.

“I didn’t,” you tell her looking over, “can’t say I mind the pants though.”

You look at her and Salem and burst into laughter as the guys drooled over the former Panthers who solidified their lifetime to black, silver and process blue. All you could think of was your conversation with Luke from a few days ago when he told you the Saturday plans.

“Right so, you’d rather I don’t mention anything about him saying women should know how to cook. Or know when to be quiet.” You said with disdain coating every word.

Luke winced, running his hand down his face. “It would be really nice if you didn’t.”

“What if I just mention my favorite part? What was it exactly…”

“Women should allow a man to lead.” He whispered. “Okay, I know its bad. It’s really bad. And he’s an ass for saying it.”

“No,” you interrupt, still sitting calmly in your seat. That was scarier to him than anything. “What’s bad is him laughing at a reporter doing her job saying it was ‘funny to hear a woman talking about routes.’ The rest of it is deplorable. Vile. Embarrassing. Especially for someone speaking like he’s high and mighty when he has nine children out of wedlock, with three different women.”

“I agree.”

“You better. I don’t like him, Luke. At all. But…I will bite my tongue for this stupid little trip down nostalgia lane. Only because I want to hang out and watch the game in the suite and focus all of my energy on the real enemy, Puka.”

Luke smiles, kissing your forehead. “Thank you. I owe you.”

“Yes, you definitely do. And don’t think I’m gonna forget about this.”

Cam was a lot bigger in person, which would’ve been really attractive maybe five years ago before he started opening his mouth. You knew Nia and Salem felt the same because they both shook his hand and stepped off to the side visibly uninterested in any further interaction. Because he was smart and read the room, Luke kept the interaction brief and led your group up the elevator to the suite.

A full spread was waiting, a perfect view of the field where both teams were ready to go.

“Do you want me to grab you anything? The steak bites are really good.” Luke asks placing a hand on your shoulder, Brandon, Nia, Will and Salem were already grabbing food as you watched the Jumbotron, the words “Keep Pounding” flashed across the screen in preparation for the player intros.

“I’m fine, you can grab whatever you want. I’m not hungry right now.” The truth was that playoff nerves were eating away at you and the thought of food right now did not sound appealing. You wanted your team to play well, not take a bite of a piece of meat doused in garlic and butter.

Of course, you were right to be nervous. The last three minutes of the game were an emotional rollercoaster and you had no clue how Luke was so steady. “They’ve got it, they’ll score here.” It sounded like a promise, with a hint of a plea. Someway somehow the football gods heard everyone in the suite’s cries and the Panthers scored a touchdown with 2:39 left in the fourth, taking the lead, 31-27.

38 seconds later, the Rams scored a touchdown and sucked all the air and life, out of the stadium. Everyone knew it was over.

The walk down to the parking garage was pretty quiet, mood clearly down when Brandon pipes up and says “we may have lost the game but I’m still on cloud nine cause I won at life.”

You and Salem both fake gag at the same time. Then Nia kisses him and grabs his hand, telling him she loves him which makes you and your sister gag even more.

“Here are thing one and thing two are being haters, snickering about true love.”

“We’re happy for you, we’re just mourning.”

“Sorry I just can’t help it. I’m sad about the season being over but I get to spend every season, for the rest of my life, with my favorite person.” Brandon says with a shrug. “Every day is a good day.”

The grin he couldn’t keep off his face looked familiar, but you didn’t wanna compare Brandon’s face after gushing over his fiancée to Luke’s after your first kiss but admittedly your mind did go there. Just for a minute. Only for a minute. And after those scary 60 seconds you realized you really needed to come back down to Earth and lock into your real life for a while.

“Two priorities for the next few weeks,” you said, setting your coffee down. “The All-Star push for Melo and a Rookie of the Year campaign for Kon.”

You stood, iPad in hand as everyone’s attention shifted toward the front of the conference room.

“Melo’s numbers speak for themselves. We don’t need to convince people he’s good at basketball. We need to remind people why fans love watching him and he needs to be in LA next month. I want a great highlight reel first, clips from the entire first half of the season, then personality content. Make it impossible to ignore him.”

A few heads nodded around the room as notes were jotted down. Some had their laptops out looking to clip together jaw dropping game footage to post on every social media platform.

“For Kon, we’re building a narrative, highlighting his brand as the future of the franchise. The production is there. One of the league leaders in three-pointers made, not just rookies. That needs more exposure.”

You swiped to the next slide.

“Let’s look at successful award campaigns across all sports. What’s working versus what isn’t? I also want to explore a feature with The Athletic. Let people get to know Kon beyond basketball, make him human with a normal personality not one of those NIL robots please. His family, his journey, the fact that he was somehow both a lottery pick and an underdog who has exceeded expectations.”

“Puppies?” your social media manager suggested. “We partner with Tranquility Sanctuary, bring adoptable dogs in, get content with the guys and promote adopt don’t shop.”

You thought about it for half a second before nodding. “I love it. It’s good community outreach and good content. See if they have availability during the homestand.” The you glanced around the room. “Take an hour to brainstorm independently. Email me your ideas by this afternoon. And remember, I want actionable concepts, not just clickbait.”

Ideas came across your laptop screen longer than a wedding guest list, some were useful, most were redundant or boring or just plain confusing. You wanted to say stupid but that was unprofessional so you just said it in your head.

“Let’s go through the mic’d up content first since practice just ended. We’ll go through Melo’s first, he probably, most likely, has more stuff we’ll need to cut out. More perfect basketball cinnamon roll less…gooning.”

Your assistant tries and fails to stifle a laugh before clearing her throat seeing you glare at her. “At least Kon might actually be a cinnamon roll?”

“For now.” You sigh, thinking about the atrocities that go on in a locker room, especially after hearing a few horror stories from Luke. “Let’s just look at the All star numbers to start. We’ll listen to these clips and look at these mock graphics. And we need to talk to operations about player availability.”

“Got it. Merch is also coming in to meet with you in an hour, they have ideas for Dell Curry’s jersey retirement.” She doesn’t look up from her computer, sorting through tunnel fits from the digital marketing. “So much to do, so little time.”

You wanted to crawl under your desk at the honesty because you knew it was true and you knew those coffee orders were just the beginning. And the worst part about loving your job and being good at it is that, time seemed to both stand still and move at a speed that should be illegal. To be honest, you didn’t really know how many days you’d been in and out of the office, approving and disapproving of countless ideas and looking at engagement numbers on Tiktok, Instagram saves and how this increased focus has impacted ticket sales.

Spreadsheet cells were blending together, a mild stress headache was making you nauseous and your phone had been ringing on and off for the last hour despite being on do not disturb.

With a deep breath, you picked up your phone. “When someone doesn’t answer, that usually means they can’t talk.”

“Can’t? Or don’t want to?” Luke waited for a response he knew he wasn’t getting and he could hear you typing, picturing you locked in your home office at 9PM. He hated that image. “Question for you,” he continued.

“Luke I can’t right now. I’m super busy, I have a bunch of work to get done and—”

“One question,” he says again like your sentiments didn’t phase him. “Did you eat today?”

“Luke August—”

“Did you…eat today?”

You let out a short laugh, not amused, even a little. “I had lunch.”

“What’d you eat?”

He really wasn’t taking the hint and you didn’t want to entertain this tonight and yet, you didn’t hang up. “I had coffee. And Cheez-Itz. A lot of them.”

His laugh almost successfully makes you stop working for the day. All you had to do was ask him where he is and you’d meet him there and that would be the end of it. “That’s not real food, at all. Open the door, I brought Nalan.”

“Did you bring garlic naan?”

He could hear your footsteps walking towards the door and Luke forced himself to stop smiling, reminding himself he hadn’t seen you in 8 days, not 8 months. He pushed his shoulders back and adjusted the bag in his hands as you opened the door. You let him and the food smell hit your nostrils and provided a borderline painful reminder that humans do in fact need sustenance.

“What are we working on?” He asked, walking into your kitchen and grabbing plates.

“We?”

“Yeah, I can help.”

You scoffed, heading back to your work station. “Okay fine. Tell me everything you can on potential designs for a Kon Knueppel bobbleheads,” you show her the mock models, “these three are awful. And any ideas about off the court games? What do you know about the Whisper Challenge? Or celebrating 20 years of the Spectrum Center?”

He makes eye contact with you after you finish half of your to-do list, immediately giggling like you just spoke a foreign language. “Yeah I got nothin’. I’ll leave it to the professionals. But…to be competitive, you gotta eat.” He slides the plate over to you, arms crossed until you take a bite.

“This is amazing, thank you. Seriously.”

“No problem,” he assures, digging into his own plate, feeling really good about his carefully thought out decision. The last thing he wanted was to interrupt you while you were working but he also didn’t want you working yourself into the ground because there was another question he wanted to ask but didn’t know how you’d react. Especially with The Athletic reaching out. And the bobbleheads. And whatever metrics and other techy stuff he didn’t understand but would listen because it made you happy.

“Right now I’m working on Black History Month stuff, merch options and we have a meet the team event in a few weeks so that really needs to go well. What have you been up to?”

He looks at your computer, taking a glance at the upcoming schedule. “Super Bowl week is coming up so I have a few work things to do there. NFL Honors, that kind of thing.” Luke rubs the back of his neck, clearing his throat nervously.

“Okay…what is it? You look like you’re about to say something bad.”

“It’s not bad. I just wanted to ask you something kind of crazy. But you can say no if it’s too much.”

You narrow your eyes at him, thoroughly lost. “I thought you already asked your question, about lunch slash dinner.”

“Linner?” He poses the question and you’re about to tell him to stop when he shakes his head, places a his hands on his hip and says “dunch?”

“You have to stop.” You were not going to give him the satisfaction of laughter, not about that. “First you asked if I ate. Now you have another question?”

Luke gives you a look you can’t quite name. “The food was just bonus points. I’m going to San Fran for Super Bowl stuff and was wondering if maybe…you wanted to join me? I know you’ll be in LA the next week for All Star so”

“You were thinking we’d spend two weeks in California together?”

He nods. “If you have a lot to do I get it. Just thought it’d be fun to get to away, maybe stomp on grapes with our feet or whatever people do in California for extended amounts of time.”

“They do make wine with their feet. And eat a lot of avocado toast.”

“I like avocadoes,” he says confidently.

“Can I think about it?”

Luke smiles. “Of course you can,” he packs up the food and places the containers in the fridge, “I’ll let you finish up.” He walks over and gives you a hug, placing a slow kiss to your lips. “Don’t work too hard?”

“No promises.”

The decision didn’t take much deliberation, you wanted to go. You wanted to spend time with him and work remote and maybe go to the beach. And see Super Bowl week in it’s controlled chaos. It was a perfect chance to network and be in really cool rooms with really cool people. One person you wanted to see more than others but that wasn’t really pertinent to the issue at hand. The good thing about your job was that anything could be done over Google Meet or via email. Time away from Charlotte would be nice to recharge, to not have to be “on” the week before your biggest networking weekend of the year.

You pulled out your phone and texted Luke, actually excited to go on this trip.