pleased.
Savani leaned in. “You know, there’s not much about you online.”
Nolan chuckled. “No, I don’t do a lot of interviews.”
“So why this one?”
“My team thought it’d be a good move.”
Savani quickly surveyed him before looking down at her plate.
“What do you think gave you your drive to succeed?”
Nolan didn’t answer. Finally, he sighed. “This part of the night isn’t making it into the article right?”
“Not if you don’t want it to.”
“I don’t. When the recorder’s on, that part’s for the article. Right now, I’d prefer if we just got to know each another.”
Normally, red flags would go up in Savani’s head. She always drew a line between herself and anyone she interviewed, no matter how friendly she wanted to come across. But she wasn’t sure about Nolan.
So she nodded.
“I’m not sure if you read an article where I talked about how I grew up? My mom was on welfare.”
Savani nodded. She remembered the story.
“Well, it just unleashed this curiosity about me. A reporter even showed up on my mother’s doorstep. How they got her address, I don’t know. But it made me uncomfortable. It’s like you open yourself up just an inch and people want to tug at you.”
“I get what you mean. It’s the nature of the industry.”
Nolan shrugged. “But, to answer your question. My drive to succeed comes from wanting to make my family proud. And to help my mother. My father passed away when I was eleven.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Savani sat back. Nolan was opening up to her.
“Yep. We were a paycheck to paycheck family from then on. After he was gone, things just went downhill for a while. I took it hard, being the only boy. I’d looked up to my dad.”
Savani shifted in her seat. “How did he die?”
Nolan avoided eye contact.
She squirmed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
He sighed.
“About the basketball,” Savani said quickly.
“Right.” Nolan paused. “I’d always been a tall kid and had an interest in basketball. I went to sports camps every summer. Things just progressed from there, slowly at first, until I got a scholarship for Notre Dame.”
Savani smiled. She could tell Nolan was passionate about his experiences. That he knew they’d shaped his life.
“Then the draft pick for the NBA came along and the rest, as they say, is history. The commercials, the endorsements,” he opened his palm toward Savani, “the magazine interviews.”
As he spoke, Savani envisioned what Nolan’s life must’ve been like. It was her empathy—to put herself in the place of whoever was being interviewed—that her boss had praised. He’d said it was like Savani really was able to capture their inner life; that readers felt they understood the people they read about.
“Sometimes we need something outside ourselves to motivate us,” Savani said and scraped her plate, and then abruptly dropped her fork. She often scraped her plate at home, but never in public.
Nolan chuckled. “I see you don’t like to waste food.”
She felt her cheeks reddened. She was comfortable with him, though she couldn’t put her finger on why.
“It’s okay. I don’t like to waste things either.” Nolan’s face got serious. “Including my time.”
Savani glanced down at the white cloth napkin in her lap.
“I like you.” Nolan sounded earnest. “I just wanted to put it out there.” He leaned his chest into the table. “I think the interview’s basically over.”
Savani nodded. “I just had three more questions.” Their eyes met. “More personal questions like−what’s your favorite color?” She winked.
Nolan laughed. “Sure.”
“That kind of thing.” Savani admired his dimple, which was more pronounced when he laughed.
“Okay. I’m game.” He sat back. “Only, if you’ll agree to see me after tonight.”
Savani smiled. “Sure.” She took a sip of wine, her eyes still on Nolan.
Chapter Five
Savani leaned
Savani leaned in. “You know, there’s not much about you online.”
Nolan chuckled. “No, I don’t do a lot of interviews.”
“So why this one?”
“My team thought it’d be a good move.”
Savani quickly surveyed him before looking down at her plate.
“What do you think gave you your drive to succeed?”
Nolan didn’t answer. Finally, he sighed. “This part of the night isn’t making it into the article right?”
“Not if you don’t want it to.”
“I don’t. When the recorder’s on, that part’s for the article. Right now, I’d prefer if we just got to know each another.”
Normally, red flags would go up in Savani’s head. She always drew a line between herself and anyone she interviewed, no matter how friendly she wanted to come across. But she wasn’t sure about Nolan.
So she nodded.
“I’m not sure if you read an article where I talked about how I grew up? My mom was on welfare.”
Savani nodded. She remembered the story.
“Well, it just unleashed this curiosity about me. A reporter even showed up on my mother’s doorstep. How they got her address, I don’t know. But it made me uncomfortable. It’s like you open yourself up just an inch and people want to tug at you.”
“I get what you mean. It’s the nature of the industry.”
Nolan shrugged. “But, to answer your question. My drive to succeed comes from wanting to make my family proud. And to help my mother. My father passed away when I was eleven.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Savani sat back. Nolan was opening up to her.
“Yep. We were a paycheck to paycheck family from then on. After he was gone, things just went downhill for a while. I took it hard, being the only boy. I’d looked up to my dad.”
Savani shifted in her seat. “How did he die?”
Nolan avoided eye contact.
She squirmed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
He sighed.
“About the basketball,” Savani said quickly.
“Right.” Nolan paused. “I’d always been a tall kid and had an interest in basketball. I went to sports camps every summer. Things just progressed from there, slowly at first, until I got a scholarship for Notre Dame.”
Savani smiled. She could tell Nolan was passionate about his experiences. That he knew they’d shaped his life.
“Then the draft pick for the NBA came along and the rest, as they say, is history. The commercials, the endorsements,” he opened his palm toward Savani, “the magazine interviews.”
As he spoke, Savani envisioned what Nolan’s life must’ve been like. It was her empathy—to put herself in the place of whoever was being interviewed—that her boss had praised. He’d said it was like Savani really was able to capture their inner life; that readers felt they understood the people they read about.
“Sometimes we need something outside ourselves to motivate us,” Savani said and scraped her plate, and then abruptly dropped her fork. She often scraped her plate at home, but never in public.
Nolan chuckled. “I see you don’t like to waste food.”
She felt her cheeks reddened. She was comfortable with him, though she couldn’t put her finger on why.
“It’s okay. I don’t like to waste things either.” Nolan’s face got serious. “Including my time.”
Savani glanced down at the white cloth napkin in her lap.
“I like you.” Nolan sounded earnest. “I just wanted to put it out there.” He leaned his chest into the table. “I think the interview’s basically over.”
Savani nodded. “I just had three more questions.” Their eyes met. “More personal questions like−what’s your favorite color?” She winked.
Nolan laughed. “Sure.”
“That kind of thing.” Savani admired his dimple, which was more pronounced when he laughed.
“Okay. I’m game.” He sat back. “Only, if you’ll agree to see me after tonight.”
Savani smiled. “Sure.” She took a sip of wine, her eyes still on Nolan.
Chapter Five
Savani leaned
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