Before the rest of the question—father’s firm involved—can fully leave my mouth, Kevin lets out a low chuckle, waving off my tension. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk.
“Campbell, are you coming in here to tell me you’ve gota new job offer and you’re leaving us for greener pastures? Or infields, rather?”
I halt and my breath stills. His words befuddle me, completely throwing me off balance.
“What?”
Kevin smiles warmly, clearly enjoying my shock. His expression reminds me of my mom’s when she hands me an expensive gift for my birthday. It’s usually not a gift I asked for, and often her taste rather than mine.
“Listen, since you brought it up, I might as well tell you. The parent organization in Texas? They are incredibly impressed with what you’ve done here. Our regional exposure, the attendance spike, the narrative branding—you’ve put this tiny market on the map in just a month. They’re finalizing a restructuring package, Campbell. They’re going to offer you a VP position in Arlington.”
My jaw goes slack.A VP position. In Arlington.
My dream.
It’s the major leagues. Exactly what I have been sweating, bleeding, and sacrificing for since the day I graduated. For a split second, a thrilling wave of pride and validation rushes through my veins. But just as quickly as the high hits, a cold, skeptical voice whispers in the back of my mind.
The timing. The land deal. My father.
Before I can dig deeper, Kevin checks his watch and abruptly stands, grabbing his portfolio and a sport coat from the back of his chair.
“Look, I have to run up and meet some of the minority owners in the suite before the gates open. Think about it, Campbell. You’ve earned this. I sure would hate to lose you around here, but hey . . . I won’t be here much longer anyhow.”
He chuckles, the glee of a man nearing retirement on full display.
“Thank you, Kevin,” I manage to utter, my voice sounding hollow to my own ears.
I excuse myself and walk back to my office like a zombie. I sink into my chair, my mind spinning at a million miles an hour, and when I look down at my phone, the screen is lit up with a missed call.
Dad. One minute ago.
My stomach drops. Every instinct tells me to let it go to voicemail, to bury my head in my work. But the nagging, burning curiosity in my chest is too loud to ignore. I swipe the screen and call him back.
He answers on the second ring.
“Campbell. I was just about to try you again. Congratulations, sweetheart.”
I grip the edge of my desk, my pulse hammering.
“Congratulations on what, Dad?”
This is what my instincts feared. He’s behind this somehow. I just know it. I feel it in my bones.
Goddammit.
“Oh, I just heard something through the old rumor mill, you know how it goes.”
“No, Dad. How does that go? How are we operating in the same rumor mill?”
I have a feeling I know how, but I’d rather hear him say it.
A heavy sigh echoes over the line, followed by the rustle of papers.
“Because I’m handling the buyer’s side for the new ownership acquisition of the Mavericks,” he admits, entirely nonchalant. “I pushed the narrative of your talent to theexecutive board. It’s a clean transition for everyone. And with you in Texas, there’s no bad looks . . .”
A hot fire kindles in my chest, burning away the shock.
“I’m sorry, but . . .bad looks?Because I had a job I loved, I was here first, and you . . . you what? Came in and fucked everything up?” I laugh out, the sound a bit manic. Ifeelmanic. My heart is pounding so hard I fear it might burn out, leaving my body a deflated shell of a human once I fall to the floor.
