Page 97 of The Game We Played

“What should I do? I’m not going to write an article about it or leak it to the paparazzi, obviously. But how do I handle this with Tanner? Do I tell him I know?”

He squeezes my shoulder. “It’s up to you, baby girl.”

“Ugh. I hate all this gossip.”

“For someone who hates gossip, you excel at writing theSiren’s Spillcolumn.”

“Excel? Yeah, right. I only have the job because of you.”

“Because of me?”

Crap on a mermaid cracker. I didn’t intend to discuss this with my dad. Not today. Not tomorrow. Never ever. I intended to take this to my grave with me. What good would discussing it do? Except potentially ruin our relationship?

I love my dad. Do I agree with what he did? No. But I don’t want it to put a wedge between us either.

I blow out a breath. “I know you got me the job at theSmuggler’s Gazette.”

“Got you the job?”

“Don’t deny it. I overheard Mike on my first day of work. He complained to the receptionist about being forced to hire me because of who my dad is.”

He growls. “Mike said he was forced to hire you because of who I am?”

“Uh, yeah. Because you used your influence to get me the job.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “That is not what happened.”

It’s not? A tiny spark of hope ignites in my stomach. “What did happen?”

“I contacted the owner of the newspaper. I’ve known Saint for years. I asked him to read a few of your articles and tell me what he thought. I never asked him to give you a job. I didn’t even realize there was a job opening at theGazette.”

It doesn’t sound as bad as blackmailing my editor-in-chief to give me the job. But my dad is still the person responsible for me getting the position.

“Still. Your influence got me the job. I’m not a good writer.”

“What?” His head whips back. “Not a good writer? What kind of bullshit is this?”

“I only got the job at theGazettebecause of you. The sports magazine didn’t want my article on Coach Knox.”

Dad clasps my hand. “Listen to me, baby girl. You are an excellent writer.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re legally obligated to believe in me because I’m your daughter.”

“I’m not lying. Saint is a friend but he’s also a cutthroat businessman. He never would have had Mike hire you if he didn’t think you were good enough. And I read your article on Coach Knox. It was good – well-written but yet witty and interesting. How you made an article about how to coach an offensive line interesting is amazing.”

“Then, why didn’t the magazine want to publish my article?”

He shrugs. “Who knows? Magazines and newspapers have reasons I’ve never been able to fathom. I’ve had somany of my articles rejected I could paint the outside of the house with the rejection letters.”

My nose wrinkles. “You have? You never said anything about rejections before.”

“Because no one enjoys discussing their failures. Even though I know those rejections had nothing to do with me and more to do with reader numbers and publishing planning, it’s not a fun subject.”

“Tell me about it,” I mutter.

“It’s one article, baby girl. You can’t quit now.”

I bristle. “I’m not quitting. But if theGazettecloses, my journalism career is over.”