Her breath hitched. “Excuse me?”
“You’ll receive the written confirmation of your termination following today’s performance.”
Gemma’s heart raced. She shook her head in disbelief. “You’re firing me? With less than three weeks remaining on my contract?”
“Indeed, we are. Unfortunately, you’re a liability. You’ve disregarded the company’s rules. Dreams on Ice takes the health and safety of its employees seriously. This is for your own good.”
She clenched her fists. “I’m sorry, but are you even qualified to judge how I skated today? Do you have any knowledge about skating?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Ms. Wilcox’s eyes narrowed. “It’s clear to anyone with eyes that you struggled today. I have video proof as my evidence. My decisions haveneverbeen questioned by my superiors.”
Gemma crossed her arms. “The only thing I didn’t do in the opening number is the throw double Salchow. How does that constitute struggling?”
“Paragraph eight of section nine, line seven, states that a figure skater employed by Dreams on Ice must perform the choreography as was intended. We can’t have our skaters alter the opening number as they see fit. We have certain standards, not to mention brand integrity, to maintain.”
She has the contract lines and paragraph numbers memorized? Who does that? How does she even know what was supposed to be performed? She just admitted she doesn’t know a thing about skating. Has somebody put her up to this on purpose?
Gemma’s nostrils flared. “This is all bullocks. I demand to file an inquiry into your findings.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. MacLeod. It doesn’t work that way. My decision is final. You are no longer able to do your job to the standards we require. Dreams on Ice doesn’t employ second-rate skaters past their prime.”
“I’ve been with Dreams on Ice for eight seasons. The least you could do is let me finish.”
“No. That would be too risky with your injury.” Ms. Wilcox walked to the door. “I’ll have your final paycheck cut for you as you leave the building. Your medical insurance, as of the end of the day, is also terminated.”
Gemma sank down into her makeup chair. “What about the hotel and transportation to the airport?”
Ms. Wilcox flashed her a greasy smile. “As a gesture of goodwill, we’ll allow you to stay at the hotel tonight on us. However, you’re responsible for providing your own transportation wherever it is you wish to go. Have a good day.” The woman saw herself out.
Gemma slammed her fist against the makeup table, and the contents clattered to the ground. She held her head in her hands. “What a bloody mess.” Scrubbing her forehead, she searched the ground for her wig cap and shoved it back on. “I don’t want to work for this rotten company anyway. Good riddance.”
Locating her mobile, she opened a text message and started to type to Tim.
Gemma: I know we agreed not to talk today since you’re flying home and have work first thing tomorrow, but if you see this, can you ring me? Anytime is fine. If I don’t pick up, I’ll return your call as soon as I can. I need to hear your calming voice.
Chapter 23
“They did what?!” Fernando and Mel exclaimed simultaneously.
Other skaters stared at the pair quizzically as they dashed to their rooms to change. Stage technicians rushed to pack sets, props, and other pieces of equipment away into their appropriate wooden crates. The next show would be in less than twenty-four hours in a different city.
“I was made redundant. Fired. Let go. Terminated. Whatever you want to call it,” Gemma covered her skate blade with a plastic skate guard. “I’m apparently too beat-up and too much of a liability to DOI. Plus, I also wasn’t supposed to see a doctor outside the company network.”
“That’s BS. The company hasneveractually enforced that rule. Not to mention, I wrote in the report that your body had made a better-than-expected recovery from the three weeks of rest you took. Did they even bother to read it?”
“I doubt it.”
“Gemma, you have to fight this,” Fernando urged. His face was covered in uneven red splotches. “I can’t lose you.”
Gemma’s shoulders sagged. “It’s too late. The HR worker already gave me this”—she held up a manila envelope—“the moment I stepped backstage. She didn’t even wait for me to return to my dressing room to change.”
“May I see that?” Mel asked.
She passed it over to the PT. Fernando wrapped an arm protectively around her. “If you’re going, I am too. I’m tired of skating the same crap anyway. Time to try to move to coaching full-time.”
“Fernando, I appreciate you saying that, but you might as well finish your contract. Earn the money while you can. Besides, didn’t you just book your parents on an around-the-world cruise for their Christmas gift?”
“I did.”
