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“And how exactly does the integrity of the game get compromised based on the answer to my question?” I ask. I can’t help but sneer at the man. He looks and seems oily as he smiles at me.
“Well, you were filmed having sex with multiple people on your team, and the ensuing firestorm did end up costing you several games,” he says.
Now this, I’m ready for.
“I’ll admit, we did have a few bumps along the road,” I say. “But I’m not going to dignify that statement by elaborating on it. I will say that it is a private affair and it should remain private. Should any of it factor into how the team plays, that’s something that I believe I’m enough of a professional to prevent.”
“I wonder though, Ms. Heaton,” AJ continues without sitting down. “If you are aware that you may have violated the law in this regard?”
Now that stops me short. Fuck. I had no preparation for anything like that. I stare at AJ.
“Isn’t it true that the combined salaries of both Colt Stackford and Ethan Blake surpass the salary cap for the New York Nailers as stipulated by the NFL?” he asks.
I nod my head. “We are planning on making an announcement on that matter at a later date,” I say. I’m not going to get caught up on a discussion about Colt and Ethan and which one of them to keep or cut. Mostly because I don’t know. And everything that I’ve seen, or that Karl has told me about would suggest he doesn't have much of an idea either. It’s like the two were meant for each other. They’re perfectly joined. They’re perfect together. But I turn back to finish of AJ’s line of questioning. “However, league rules do specify that we have till the end of the season to make a formal decision as to which direction to go with.”
AJ seems to smile, as if he’s got me in a trap. “Based on that, Ms. Heaton,” he says with a smirk, “I believe that you being at a center of power that directly affects the economic wellbeing of both the players in question raises some serious issues with your judgment. Do you disagree?”
Oh shit. I see where he’s going for. “No,” I snap and people turn their heads. They’ve noticed. I need to keep it together. “What transpired between certain individuals and myself was a private affair that had no basis or bearing on what happens on the field…”
But AJ doesn’t let me finish. He goes for the jugular. “Actually, I believe it does, Ms. Heaton, because you placed two de facto employees of yours in a situation where they were unable to deny you consent for sexual intercourse,” AJ says.
Is he seriously accusing me of what I think he is? “In fact I posit that you used your power and influence to coerce two NFL players to have sexual relations with you. And that you forced them to engage in sexual practices that they would normally not have consented to,” AJ says with a triumphant stare. “That what you have is reluctant or dubious consent at best, but rape at the worst.”
I gulp inwardly. I never anticipated nor thought about this line of questioning. I can see cameras start to flash at this point. As soon as the word ‘rape’ started getting thrown around.
“Everything that occurred in my life with other people has always been of a consensual nature,” I say flatly. “To try to paint it in another light is reaching at best, and malicious defamation at worst.”
Let’s see if AJ has anything to say to that.
“I beg to differ, Ms. Heaton,” he says and his eyes tell me that he's coming in for the kill at this point. “I have it on good authority that the players in question that have been filmed with you do in fact believe that they were coerced into actions with you, and with each other.”
This is when the room starts to murmur even louder. People begin talking to each other and wondering if it’s true. Could I have forced two grown men to have sex with me? Could I have forced them to fuck each other?
On the face of it, I know this is completely bogus.
I mean, Ethan hasn’t been speaking to me outside of in an official capacity because he’s feeling unsure about what happened between the three of us, right?
It has to be.
Because the only other option is that he’s holding himself away because he feels violated.
It shakes me. Because I realize just how much I love Ethan Blake and Colt Stackford at that point that I feel physically ill at the suggestion that I coerced them.
And AJ sees this.
“Are we feeling a bit contrite at our actions there, Ms. Heaton?” he asks with a chuckle. “Are we thinking that we may indeed be supremely unqualified to lead an NFL team?”
I look at the Commissioner. He’s frowning. Most likely at the thoughts of the headlines tomorrow. “New York Nailers Owners Rape Players”.
All of a sudden, I wish I hadn’t scheduled the television stations.
And then there’s another voice that comes from the back.
“Why don't you just leave Julianna the fuck alone?” a male voice calls out.
People turn in their seats and I look past them to the door.
Colt’s standing there dressed in the pre-game suit and tie. He's got a smirk on his face as if this whole thing is just a big game. At that point, I could just kiss him.
