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“Thank you.” I offer a friendly nod and head down, and I know it’s like I basically told on Rivera, but fuck him. This is all his fault, anyway.
I close the office door so I don’t have to face anyone, but the outside of the office is all windows and there aren’t any blinds, so I get the pleasure of watching everyone walk by with heads down since nobody wants to confront me today.
I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so alone.
I think about calling my mom to tell her what’s going on, but nope…she’s mad I chose Lincoln and I haven’t spoken to her in days.
Lincoln hasn’t picked up or called me since we fought about his brother, and I think Sam is mad at me for suggesting she come clean with Devin about her feelings.
I feel like I’m backed into a corner, and I’m scared what the outcome will be if I don’t find an outlet soon.
And no sooner does that thought cross my mind when an email comes through—a forward from Marcus to the entire sports team.
It’s a press release. I read the words across the top.
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
The Vegas Aces’ spokesperson’s contact information comes next, and then I read the headline.
Aces Tight End Asher Nash Suspended for Rest of Season following Gambling Violation.
Holy. Shit.
He came clean.
And I find out not from the team coach who I urged to tell the truth…but from a press release?
A fucking press release?
I just lost my job because I’m seeing the coach and he can’t give me the courtesy of telling me first?
Wow.
Even as I have the thought, a tiny, apparently rational part of my brain argues that I don’t deserve the exclusive on that, and I’m no longer the team correspondent anyway. It’s team policy to issue a press release for something like this, but it still manages to cut to the quick.
I try calling him again, but he doesn’t answer, and then I call Marcus.
“Hi Jolene,” he answers.
I don’t bother with a greeting. “Who did you put in as the new team correspondent?” I demand.
“Sanders.”
“Sanders?” I repeat. Fucking Sanders?
At least it’s not Rivera. I try to remind myself of that fact.
“Sanders,” he confirms. “I’m working as fast as I can to get my mother moved so I can come back to the station, Jolene. Please keep your temper in check until I return, and stay away from stories that Sanders is now to cover. Understand?”
I blow out a breath. “This is bullshit, Marcus.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but you’ve left me no choice. You’re getting emotional about a story, and that’s the very reason why I had to remove you from the assignment. Is there anything else?” he asks.
“No,” I mumble.
He’s right. I am getting emotional about this because this is so much more to me than just being reassigned.
I head home, and I just barely beat the boys back. Sam is sulking on the couch when I walk in, and she barely makes eye contact with me.
