Oh, how naive I was to actually believe that making it through my work day would be the easy part. After only an hour at work, I have to close — and lock — my office door to keep nosy coworkers out. My cell phone is still blowing up with messages and phone calls to the point I think I need to figure out how to make my number unlisted.
No matter how hard I try to focus, it’s not happening. My email inbox is filling up with messages from all kinds of people, some sharing more headlines and some asking if it’s all true. I want so badly to respond with a resounding NO, but something is holding me back. A futile hope that this Maverick King guy will fix everything, or maybe an even more futile hope that this is all just a horribly bad dream I’m going to wake up from.
But when the phone on my desk rings, I have to answer it, praying these awful reporters haven’t tracked down this number yet. Just another reason why we need call display on these antiquated phones.
“Hello, Sadie speaking,” I say, impressed with how I manage to keep my tone professional.
“Do you really expect me to believe Maverick King is datingyou?” Dirk’s condescension comes through loud and clear, and I grip the phone tighter.
“Excuse me? My personal life is none of your damn business,” I hiss, grateful my office door is already closed. My eyes flutter closed as the sick feeling that took root in my stomach this morning grows. “Just leave me alone, Dirk.”
“Knock it off, Sadie,” he scoffs. “I don’t know what that was last night, but your stunt failed. You’re not dating him. There’s no way. Honestly, I’m surprised. I didn’t think you had it in you to lie like that. So if you’re trying to make me jealous, just give up. It’s not going to work.”
For the second time today, my mouth falls open in disbelief as my eyes fly open. “Are you… Are you serious? You think this is about me wanting to make you jealous?” My voice rises near the end, even as a wild desire to shove it to Dirk and lie, and say it absolutely is real, crosses my mind. God, the look on his face would be priceless if he actually believed I moved on from him to one of his baseball idols.
But I can’t drag this out just to possibly get Dirk to leave me alone… Can I? What would happen if I went to Maverick’s people and asked them… No. It’s crazy. Dirk’s an ass, but he’s not wrong. A guy like Maverick won’t want anything to dowith me. He’s probably already sent his statement refuting this madness to the press, meaning it’s only a matter of time before Dirk’s phoning me back to rub it in my face.
“Goodbye Dirk,” I say, hanging the phone up before I lose it completely.
What a flipping mess. The very fact that I entertained the idea of trying to get a professional athlete to pretend to be with me just to make my cheating ex-boyfriend go away is absurd and proof of how low I’ve sunk.
My hands reach out blindly, grabbing papers and shuffling them into a pile. Anything to try and bring some order into this mess. But it’s a lost cause.
Dropping my head to the desk with a groan, I give in to my personal pity party. For someone who thrives on an organized, controlled life, I’ve never before felt so totally out of control. My head is spinning, the room closing in on me. There’s not enough oxygen in the air, and I start to gasp, desperate for a full breath.
Pressure in my chest builds and builds, and I force myself to stand, somehow knowing I need to move and snap out of this panic spiral. As I pace closer to my office door, I can hear muffled voices outside. Focusing in on them, I’m relieved to hear they’re not talking about me or the photo. Words filter through about budgets and equipment requests from various departments. Typical topics for the foundation office. The pacing and focusing on the innocuous chatter outside helps calm my racing heart. Not everyone is gossiping about me and this insanity about Maverick King, even if my cell phone’s call log and email inbox say otherwise.
Moving back to my desk, I sit down and perform a few breathing exercises. I just need to get through the next few hours. Then I can go home, take a long hot bath in the small but at least functional bathtub, and call Willow. I need to beg her to help me figure out a way to clear this all up.
My mind always feels better with a plan in place, so I turn my attention to the list of charitable donors I still need to reach out to for our upcoming gala.
The rest of my day passes with me ignoring phone calls and focusing on sending emails and letters to our donors. But as I push back from my computer, ready to go home and bring this insane day to a close, a knock on my door stops me.
“Come in,” I say, pulling on my cardigan over the sleeveless blouse I wore today. My boss, the chair of the foundation, steps in, a perturbed look on his face.
“Sadie, I realize the situation may be beyond your control, and far be it for me to participate in any interoffice gossip. But you need to know that hospital security has had to escort multiple members of the press off the hospital premises today, all of whom were trying to get to you.”
“What?” I gasp, sinking back down in my chair, any calm I’d managed to pull together gone in an instant. “I’m so sorry, Gus.”
His lined face softens to resemble the likable man he normally is. “I’m guessing you and your” — he clears his throat — “frienddidn’t anticipate this type of response to this morning’s news. Perhaps you should start your weekend early, and consider working from home next week. At least until the excitement dies down.”
I nod robotically. Working from my crappy apartment? Sure. That’ll be fun… I suppress a shudder. But he’s got a point. The patients and families don’t need to be wading through a sea of ravenous reporters just to get here.
Gus shifts on his feet, and I know he has more he wants to say.
“Can I do anything else for you today, Gus?” I ask, hoping he says no and leaves me alone.
“Actually, it’s more a suggestion than anything. But perhaps you could ask your friend to lend his influence to the gala? Maybe a donation to the silent auction or some publicity to boost ticket sales?”
Part of me is stunned Gus is asking me this. It’s not much better than when dirtbag Dirk tried to get me to ask Willow for Tridents’ tickets. But he’s my boss, not my ex, so I can’t tell him no quite as easily.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I say hoarsely. Thankfully, Gus seems to accept that answer.
“Right. Well. Take care getting out of here, and we’ll see you back in a few days when the excitement dies down.” He moves to the door, and all I can think is that once he’s gone I can get out of here and give in to the tears that are trying to build behind my eyes.Keep it together, Sadie, just until you’re home.
Then there’s another knock on my office door. Gus is closest, so he opens it. And when I look up to see who it is, I have to accept it’s going to be a while before I can go home and give in to the breakdown I desperately want to have.
Chapter five
