I’d just gotten so … livid about Renee and her stupid kid and then Kean and his … whole fucking attitude. I just couldn’t let the socials thing go. It’d help his careersomuch and all he’d have to do was talk to me a little. That’s it. Just fucking talk to his assistant for a few minutes a week. He literally said he didn’twantto talk to me. How the hell was I supposed to work with him like that?
“Look, I know Kean can be a pain in the ass, but harassing him on the field is out of the fucking question.”
Shit, this was bad. So fucking bad. I got the impression that Mr. Hansen doesn’t curse a lot. So the fact that he was doing it now was a bad sign.
“I’m sorry, sir. I promise it won’t happen again,” I said, head low, shoulders closing in.
“You’re damn right it won’t happen again,” Hansen said, running his hands through short gray hair. He sighed and looked back at me, shoulders softening. And there was something in his eyes, something empathetic, that hit a nerve.
He was going to treat this as an inexperienced kid acting out. But I wasn’t a kid, I wasn’t inexperienced. Which made that look hurt all the worse.
“Look, Ms. Davey, the owners aren’t looking to take any risks. Problems will get cut quickly, quicker than I can cover for. I know you want that social media position but … maybe forget about it for now and focus on being a good PA. I’ve seen your wrap-ups over the past few days, you’re doing well. Just … focus on that.”
“But, sir, I —” I tried to say, tears stinging in the corners of my eyes. But Hansen put a gentle hand on my shoulder and I went quiet.
“I know it’s not what you want. But sometimes we have to settle for things as they are.” He patted my shoulder twice. “No more fighting with Kean, all right?”
“Uh-huh,” I choked out and Hansen gave me a sad smile before walking off.
Once I couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, I went a little farther down the hall, leaned up against the wall of the laundry room, and sank down to the floor into a little ball. I had just enough sense to reschedule Kean’s internet setup before fully breaking down.
It was so fucking stupid to get worked up the way I did. To let Renee’s comments rile me up, to let Kean’s behavior egg me further into lunacy. What the hell was I thinking? There was no way I’d get that position now. Fuck, it’d be a miracle if I kept this job. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kean sent me an email after practice saying I was fired.
Fuck him. I hope Lunez does get him benched. The Dastards need somebody with a following to boost ticket sales, somebody who’d raise viewership.
I really wanted to be that somebody. But I just had to go and flash my tits five years ago and ruin my future.
Was this some sort of bad karma? Did me flashing some folks when I was drunk mentally scar somebody and now I was punished to never know happiness? Were my titsthatbad? That was probably the best they’d ever looked, minus the soccer ball paint.
Honestly, with the paint, nobody could even see my nipples. So what was caught on camera wasn’t all that graphic. It was a victimless crime, if you really think about it. So why was I being punished?
Fuck, my crying had turned to hiccups, which echoed down the hall. I needed to get up, wipe away my tears, and get back to work. Otherwise, I was bound to be caught like this, crying in a dark hallway like a kid who’d just been scolded.
I’ll give myself just a few more minutes. A few more minutes of wallowing in self-pity and then I’ll get up and do my job.
If I still had a job.
Fucking damn it.
“Kodi?” a soft, hesitant voice called.
“I’m fine,” I said, voice muffled by my knees. Whoever it was, they didn’t need to see my mascara-streaked face. I was doing them a favor.
But apparently, they didn’t see the blessing I tried to give them and instead knelt in front of me.
“What happened?” they asked, fingertips brushing over my knees before they pulled away. Not wanting to be a dick to this concerned citizen, I finally lifted my head up, prepared to brush this all off as a bad day or PMS or a sick grandma.
But those lies died on my lips when I realized who it was.
Kean.
Kean crouched down, looking at me like I was an abandoned puppy on the side of the road, soaked from the rain. His face was wrinkled with concern and his hand still out stretched like he wanted to comfort me but knew better.
“What happened?” I choked, sitting up straight to press my back against the wall and get farther away from him. “I got caught yelling at my boss and management chewed me out. What the hell do you think happened? Hansen just yelled my name for fun?”
He winced, pulling his hand back.
“I’m sorry. I’ll explain to Hansen that … it was my fault.” He shifted his feet to sit on the ground and pushed back so he could lean against the wall. I watched him closely, vision still blurry from the tears. Kean looked so unnatural in this moment, hunched over, shoulders slumped, limbs folded in to make himself small.
