number one draft pick
Claire Humphrey
Reshma didn’t find out who her client was until the third interview. She came to a different office for this one, downtown in a mirrored tower. Reshma had dressed Zuzu in her newest service-dog harness and herself in a coral blazer, but it was always a gamble trying to make a good impression when you didn’t know who you were meeting.
Sayed, who’d conducted the previous interview, led her into a conference room. A young guy sat alone by the window, one leg pistoning.
He sprang to his feet at their entrance. Dark-skinned, with dimples and brown eyes and hair fuzzed close to his skull. He strode over and knelt down on the floor, careless of his suit, putting his face up to Zuzu’s.
“Ty,” Sayed said. “Get up and meet Reshma.”
“Who’s a good pup?” Ty wa
