Page 100 of Scoring Chance

“What’s creepy AF is that Des enlisted his friend Tanner Chance to be his husband, and forced his kids to lie for him. Tanner and Des played hockey together in high school. They play on a hockey league today. They’ve been friends for a while. And we’re supposed to believe that they are suddenly in love?” Kyle scoffs. He prowls around my office, strengthening his grip on the upper hand. “And there’s more! Because this isn’t just a lie to get a promotion. This is insurance fraud.”

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit.

The team looks at me, as does Stan. His forehead creases with concern. Kyle’s never been this convincing in a pitch, but I guess there’s a first for everything.

“I checked with Tanner’s old employer. He was recently laid off. And a week later, he and Des are getting married. One week later,” Kyle stresses, his head shading into a strawberry. “Hmmm…a single dad with four kids who’s about to lose his employee insurance plan out of nowhere marries his friend, whose company has great benefits? I don’t know about you, Stan, but that smells like insurance fraud to me.”

Kyle sits on my desk. I want to punch the smirk off his face. I still can’t move. I thought Tanner and I were being smart, but we were the dumbest fucking guys thinking this scheme would work.

“We have two friends who hatched a plan. You give me insurance, and I’ll give you an instant family to impress your boss.” Kyle shakes his head in disgust. “Am I getting all this correct, Des?”

“Fuck you,” I spit out. How long has he had this figured out? He naturally waited until today to make sure I bombed the pitch.

Kyle softens his stance and walks up to Stan. He puts a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “Stan, I am so sorry I had to bring this bad news. I know my timing isn’t great, but as soon as I discovered this web of lies and deceit, I had to tell you. You are a man of honor. If Des will go to these lengths to secure a promotion for himself, what else is he capable of?”

Nobody speaks. My office goes dead silent. People have gathered from the hall to rubberneck.

Stan looks to me, but I can barely keep eye contact. I stare at the rug like a fucking chump.

“Thank you for making me aware of this,” Stan tells Kyle. He claps him on the shoulder.

“Anything for you, Stan.” Kyle puts his hand over his heart.

“I had been struggling with who to promote to creative director. But after hearing this, you’ve made it remarkably easy to choose Des.”

I whip my head up. Craig and Lisa’s eyes go wide. Huh?

“What?” Kyle asks, all the wind leaving his body.

“The fact that you would concoct this gross, hateful story just to knock Des out of the running for creative director shows me that you are not a team player. Maybe if you’d spent less time searching for Des’s marriage license, you would’ve had more time to land a big fish like Silq.”

“S–Stan, you can’t be serious. I’m not the one who’s lying!” Kyle’s voice short circuits into a high-pitched yelp. “Des and Tanner are in a fake marriage. They’ve pulled the wool over your eyes, over all of our eyes!”

“Let me tell you something, Kyle,” Stan says, adding some old school spice. “I went to their house. I spent time with them, before your kids decided to act like demon spawn. I saw two men who are madly in love with each other, and a stepdad who is crazy about his kids. You can’t fake the love that was in that house. I’ve been on this earth for over seventy years. It takes a lot to fool me.” He steps closer to Kyle. “And you know who hasn’t fooled me? You. I’ve had your number since the day you started here. An entitled, smarmy individual. A nepo baby asswipe.”

Craig guffaws a nervous laugh. My sentiments exactly. Like Tanner, Stan’s use of profanity is scant. When he drops an expletive, he’s either ecstatic or you’re fucked.

“Kyle, as one of my last duties as the boss…you’re fired.”

Kyle stands there like a chump, mouth agape. For once, no comeback.

I put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “And as one of my first duties as boss, it gives me great pleasure to tell you to get the fuck out of my office.”

My comforting hand turns into a forceful one, shoving him into the hall.

“Fine! I’m going to start my own agency then. You better be scared,” he says.

“Oh, Kyle. To quote my youngest: you are so delusional.”

I slam the door shut.

29

DES

Celebrations for me used to mean steakhouses and lounges with sleek pianos and gorgeous views.

But now I prefer Caroline’s, the greasy spoon diner in downtown Sourwood.