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"Yeah."
"We'll go meet her there."
Kris nods again and then winks at Jamie. "Chin up, sweetheart. Everything is going to be okay."
She smiles back, and for the first time all damn day, it reflects in her eyes.
"Hey," Kelsey says, smiling at the two of us when we reach her office fifteen minutes later. Despite the fact that she was probably up late dealing with this, her eyes are bright and clear. If she's tired, it doesn't show. "I was just about to come looking for you."
"Kris sent us."
I lead Jamie inside, not even bothering to pull the door closed behind us. It's not like the damn thing would shut even if I tried. Kelsey seriously needs to clean some of this shit out of her office. I don't even know what half of it is even used for. On second thought, I don't think I want to know what she uses half of it for. It's probably files that cover every single moment of our lives from the instant of our births, including every misdeed and minor transgression. She never forgets those.
"Is it done?" I ask.
"It's done," she says.
I exhale a sigh, a weight falling off my shoulders. Darren Smith is out of a job. He won't have the opportunity to do what he did to Jamie to another hopeful reporter. His sorry ass will spend the rest of his life regretting the way he treated her and living with the consequences.
"I feel like I should know what this is about," Jamie says, glancing between the two of us.
"You should," I say, pulling her into my arms. "Darren Smith was fired this morning."
"What?" Her mouth falls open in shock. "Why?How?What?"
"He doesn't get to get away with the way he treated you, angel." I brush her hair back from her face, cupping her face between my palms. "He doesn't get the chance to do it to another reporter. So we made sure he paid for it."
"What did you do?" she whispers.
"Made sure the network knew what they were risking if they didn't deal with him," I say, not in the least sorry for it. I won't ever apologize for defending her.
"What did you do, Jonas?"
"The guys threatened a media blackout if they didn't fire him," Kelsey answers when I don't. "No interviews, no exclusives, and no advertisements or programming on the network."
"Jonas," Jamie breathes, tears welling in her eyes.
"It wasn't just me, angel. The whole team backed the move." I brush tears off her cheeks. "We won't tolerate sexual harassment and discrimination against women. We stand with women. We stand withyou. Always."
She throws her arms around me, choking on a sob. I hold her to me, resting my head against hers as she fights to get her emotions under control.
Kelsey was right when she pointed out that our world doesn't work the way the rest of the world works. We can't fix it for everyone, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try to make adifference when and where we can. We're role models for a reason. We have influence and power for a purpose. I'll use my privilege to fight for this woman any fucking day of the week.
But it shouldn't stop there, and it won't. One way or another, I'm going to make sure that women in this field are safe from motherfuckers like him. They won't go to work dreading their jobs every damn day like she did for a year. They deserve a safe place here, and I'll help carve one out for them, even if it means strongarming every motherfucker like Darren Smith out of the door to do it.
"There's more," Kelsey says when Jamie finally pulls back, her composure firmly in place.
She's fucking strong. Christ, I don't think she even realizes how strong she is or how much I admire her. Nothing keeps her down for long. She picks herself right back up and keeps fighting. She's been doing it all damn year, and she's been doing it alone. Never again. I didn't protect her well enough. I won't make that mistake again.
"What?" I growl to Kelsey.
"They want her back, and so does ESPN," she says, her voice soft.
Jamie flinches.
"The head of the network said the job is hers if she wants it. They're offering a raise if she'll come back." Kelsey's poker face gives nothing away, but I already know the offer is impressive. It's the only way they have a shot in hell of getting her back, and they know it. "It's almost six figures a year."
"Jesus," I mutter.
