She seemed to mull over my words for a moment. “Do you think he feels the same way?”
I looked up to meet her eyes. “I think so, but I’ve been trying to keep things professional, so we haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“I see.” She pushed away from her desk. “Here’s the thing. I trust you, Becca, or I wouldn’t have given you this assignment. With that being said, I can’t compromise the story.”
“I know,” I said, looking down at my lap. “And I’m sorry for putting you in a bad position, and I would understand if you were disappointed in me.”
“I’m not disappointed. I’m relieved that you came to me. You are good at what you do. You’ve earned the trust you’ve been given.”
“I appreciate you saying that.” I shifted in my seat, feeling undeserving of her words. “Here is what has me concerned. I know there is nothing in my contract stating I can’t date an athlete I’m covering, but I’m struggling with where this would fall ethically. I don’t want people to question my integrity.”
She tilted her head slightly. “There would definitely be a conflict of interest. It’s not whether you could date him. It’s about whether you could keep dating him while doing the story.”
I smiled faintly. “I understand, and I would never want to compromise this assignment or my reputation.”
She steepled her fingers under her chin as she stared at me. “You’re not the first reporter this has ever happened to, and you won’t be the last. You’re human, and we can’t simply shut our feelings off because we think it’s the right thing to do.”
I held her gaze, feeling heat crawl up my neck. I knew there wasn’t anything unique or special about this. I hated thatwomen got judged, while the men were held to a different set of standards. I didn’t spend years digging my way through locker rooms and press conferences to be reduced to whispers and gossip. By the same token, I wasn’t immune either. I wanted to argue, explain, and justify, but Daphene wasn’t the one judging me. She was only trying to give me perspective.
“So, what are my options?”
“First, has your relationship affected the story?”
I thought that over for a minute. The draft I’d been working on was sitting on my computer. During our interviews, I’d been careful and deliberate. I asked him the same questions I would have asked anyone else.
“I don’t believe so,” I said, giving her the most honest answer I could.
“Okay.” She tapped her fingers against her desk. “Well, option one. You keep things professional until the article is finished. No personal contact. No blurred lines. You would treat this like every other story. Once that portion of the assignment is complete. You step away and hand it over to the editor. You would then remove yourself completely from covering him. The assignment on your end would be wrapped up. No more follow-up questions and no more involvement in the project whatsoever.” She met my gaze and softened her tone with a smile. “This is not a punishment. It’s a safeguard.”
Not pursuing anything with him until the article was finished was probably the safest option. I could move some things around to wrap it ahead of schedule if I had to.
“Option two. You step away, and I reassign the article to someone else.”
My stomach knotted because that was my least favorite, even though that would protect me the most.
Emotion swelled unexpectedly. Hot tears formed in the back of my eyes. I had so much riding on this. I wanted to make the right decision.
“I’m concerned that even if I do excuse myself, that people will still speculate.”
“That’s a valid concern. Anything personal that happened after that would be your business. But I would suggest thinking long and hard and figuring out what you can live with and what your limits are.”
I thought about the timeline and the self-control it would take. But then I thought about how hard I worked to get here and how hard I fought to be taken seriously.
I couldn’t risk it. Not for anything.
I wanted to finish this from start to finish, but I wasn’t naive. I needed to be honest with myself.
I stood and moved over to the window. “If you were me, which one would you choose?”
“I can’t make that decision for you. Only you can answer that, but I will tell you this. You are a damn good reporter, and I would hate to see you lose yourself to this.”
I nodded while glancing out at the city. “That’s why I’m so torn, because I don’t want that either.”
“I trust whatever decision you make. And I’m not worried about you making the wrong one. I’m more worried that you won’t give yourself the time to make the right one.”
I blew out a breath. This assignment mattered, but my feelings deserved to be acknowledged too.
I cleared my throat and turned to face her. “Can I sleep on it and give you an answer tomorrow?”
