“Get the fuck out of the way!” he roars. “Touch her and we’re going to have problems.”
That only makes things worse.
Now they know I’m someone important and the questions come faster and more furious.
“Do you have an anger problem, Dak?”
“Did you knock out Hunt McCall on purpose?”
By this point we’ve made it to Dak’s car, but he can’t, or rather won’t, let the last comment by the reporter go. He rolls down his window to address it with a venomous tone.
“What did you just say to me?”
But the reporter doesn’t flinch.
“There was a lot of tension between Philly and the Hawks the entire week leading up to the game, so I’m asking you if you hurt McCall on purpose.”
“Don’t ever ask me any stupid shit like that again and stop with the photos or I’ll break every last one of those cameras,” he says to all three of the men.
“Dak–” I warn calmly. “Let’s just go.”
By the next day, my picture was splattered on every gossip blog interested in Dak’s love life, and I know that because my sister sends me an early morning text.
Pat: Never mind. I know exactly where you got that mark on your neck. And while I understand the temptation, you and Mr. Six are playing with fire. Call me.
katrina
Fatima hasa shit-eating grin on her face when I exit the elevator. The kind of “I knew it” look I was hoping to avoid, especially from the sassy nineteen-year-old.
“John’s in his office,” she says with an ominous tone to her voice.
“Thanks.”
“Good luck, girl. He’s wearing the brown slacks.”
Fatima’s well wishes are hollow. I know she is reveling in the drama of my life and one of these days I’m going to unpack that with her, but today isn’t that day. Today I have to do everything in my power to save my job.
The sleek wooden door creaks open as I steel myself, stepping into the cool, sunlit office of Dr. John Staples. A towering pile of documents obscures his face, but his authoritarian voice cuts through the room, the very sound of it inducing a nervous twitch in my heart.
“Kat, have a seat,” he gestures to the chair opposite his mahogany desk. The dread is palpable in my stomach. I nod, placing myself tentatively in the chair.
“Dr. John,” I start, my voice trembling a little. “About the Warner case...”
He sighs, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “Why were you in Mr. Warner’s car at his apartment building last night, Kat?”
My first inclination is to confess and tell John the truth about the developing relationship between Dak and I. After all, we’re two consenting adults, and sometimes you can’t control how you meet the person you fall for.
The man…I love?
But I don’t, because one of my most tragic human flaws is that I don’t want to disappoint people, and I’m frightened that the truth will disappoint John in a way that will crush me.
“The office setting is a bit intimidating for Mr. Warner, so we’ve been having some sessions outside of the office.”
“Some sessions?”
“Like, I took him to the Nighthawks stadium for a visit. I figured he’d be more comfortable in a space not as sterile as my office.”
“And some of these sessions were after normal office hours?”
