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I should’ve known this was coming. I’d been so naively living in a happy bubble after reconciling with Corey, I hadn’t been paying attention to social media. If I had, I would’ve seen the paparazzi photo from the Dallas airport and the accompanying article titled, “Johnson’s Mystery Woman” published on Channel Five’s website’s homepage. The reporter from the reopening of the local baseball park, Xavier, was listed as the author.
The picture wasn’t the best quality, but it’s obvious what Corey and I were doing, pressed up against the side of his Range Rover. The fact it was the middle of the night saved me from being recognizable, but given it was taken at the airport on the evening the team returned from Alabama made it easy for Patti, and anyone else in the organization, to deduce my identity.
I unplug my personal laptop charger from the power strip under my desk and wrap the cord tight before placing it in the box. Even though I’ve lost my job, I don’t regret reconciling with Corey. After our time apart and our recent conversation, I’ve never felt more confident that he and I can make things work. That we’remeantto make things work.
It might seem silly considering I’m a grown woman, but I truly believe Corey Johnson is my soulmate. So many things could have happened to keep us apart, but our lives’ paths brought us back together. And while losing my dream job sucks,I can find another one. Iwillfind another one. But I can’t find another Corey. He’s one in a million. And he’s mine.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Marks?” One of the interns pops their head in my office—myformeroffice. I don’t remember her name. She’s being trained to replace Claudia, the former Lonestar employee who was also fired for breaching the no-fraternization policy. I wonder who will replace me when I’m gone. Probably Chris. At least for a while. He’s the only other person on staff who understands social media marketing like I do.
“I’m busy, Katy,” Patti tells the young woman. “I’ll come find you when I’m done here.”
I wish she would just go speak with Katy. Clearing out my personal belongings is hard enough without an audience, even a well-meaning one.
“I-I’m sorry, Mrs. Marks,” Katy stammers. “But it’s Mr. Wilson.”
My boss—formerboss whirls around. “Mr. Wilson?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Katy fidgets. “His assistant called down to say he’d like you to speak with you in his office now. You, too, Miss Jones.”
I almost drop the stack of papers I retrieved from the file cabinet next to the desk. “Me?”
She nods.
I look at Patti, silently asking if she has any idea what this is about. She looks uneasy, but not surprised. “I suppose we should head upstairs.”
Not knowing what else to do, I follow her out of the office. Silence accompanies us on the ride up to the top floor where the owner’s office is located. I’m on edge.
Is the Lonestar’s owner going to reprimand me for breaking the policy to my face? What would be the point?
Doesn’t he have bigger things to worry about than the office worker who was caught dating his team’s starting pitcher?
The elevator dings and the doors slide open revealing an open foyer with glass walls, allowing sunlight to illuminate the massive space. Expensive leather chairs are situated in the fancy waiting area. A lone sleek desk sits to the right.
Mr. Wilson’s assistant stands when she sees us. “Ms. Jones. Welcome. They’re waiting for you in the conference room.”
My feet grind to a halt. “They’re waiting forme?” Doesn’t she mean Patti?
“Yes, ma’am.” The assistant rounds her desk and gestures for us to follow her down a nondescript hall. “This way.”
Again, I look at Patti for answers, but she avoids my gaze.
I follow the woman, fortifying myself for what’s about to come. Whatever it is, I vow I won’t lose my composure in front of the team’s owner. I’ll take my licks with a brave face and go cry alone in the luxury cabin I’m renting when this is over.
The assistant stops by an open door and motions us inside. The placard on the wall indicates it’s Mr. Wilson’s office. Patti walks in first. With a deep breath, I hold my head high and step inside. The air rushes out of my lungs in a shocked exhale when I see who else is in the room. “Corey?”
The handsome pitcher straightens in his seat, wearing a wrinkled white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants I recognize as the ones he usually sleeps in. Next to him is Avery Moreno. The stunning brunette looks fierce in an expensive pantsuit, sitting with one leg crossed over the other. She stares at Mr. Wilson and his son situated on the other side of the owner’s desk. Hearing my voice, however, she turns and shoots me a quick smile in greeting before returning her formidable glare to the father-son duo.
“Ms. Jones, thank you for joining us. Please, have a seat.” Mr. Wilson waves to the empty chair on the other side of Corey.
I don’t move. “What’s going on?” I look at Corey. “I thought you were in Houston.”
“I was,” he says. “But I’m here now. Have a seat, and I’ll explain.” His smile is meant to be reassuring, but the effort is lost on me.
I can’t help but feel like I walked into a situation I don’t want any part of. I’ve already signed the termination paperwork. At the moment, the only things keeping me here are my personal effects still sitting in my former office. I’m tempted to just walk out and let whatever is happening in this room continue without me.
A throat clears. I at Patti. She stands silently by the door. When I meet her gaze, she jerks her head towards the empty chair with an encouraging nod.
With a frown, I heed her silent command. I’m stiff as I walk across the massive office and sit down.
